awakening

by green-lights-n-rabbit-holes98

Something is rotten in the town of Riverdale. Sabrina must come to terms with her choices before the odds turn against new. The Uktena, once forgotten by the Serpents, makes a powerful resurgence, led by no other than a descendant of the founding members. And Alice has to decide once and for all - to let the guilt of her past swallow her or to embrace her roots as a witch.

7. Violent Ends

ALICE

Guilt. That's the one emotion overpowering my state. Extreme guilt. And petrification.

I've lost Sabrina. I let her fall down the rabbit hole, digging up the case on Hal. I kept the truth from her. All I have done is lie to her. And now, she's running away from it, to go find Veronica. She's running away from me. And no matter how many times I scream her name, I can't help but watch her disappear behind the line of the trees.

I choke out sobs. The cold stings. My injuries sting more. I never should have let her come here. I should have fought for Hilda and Zelda to let her stay with me at my apartment. I never should have let her wander off with the Jones's boy to the Sisters. But Joaquin….and Toni…..and Hiram….

Hiram….

A groan emerges from him as I turn my head. I stare, watching him slowly come back to life from….whatever Veronica did to him. What kind of magic was that? Why did she lash out so harshly at him? He said something about not wanting her to repeat her mistakes from New York. About people like them. What did he mean? I wound ponder more on it, but Hiram is…. A black blotch appears on the middle of his chest. It continues to grow larger. He's in pain.

No. He could be dying.

"HIRAM!" I sprint over to him and kneel down. I cradle his head and lower it down onto my lap. He release another groan, coughing up….oh, it's awful. It's identical to what I cough up, only much darker in color. What did Veronica do?

"Mi….mij…." he struggles to speak, he's wheezing practically. I shush him so he won't strain himself. He looks up at me with weak eyes. He takes time to glance around the school yard for any sign of his daughter. Then, he sees the footprints in the snow.

"Where…..where's my daughter?"

"We'll find her, Hiram." I tell him, trying not to choke up further. I stroke back some of the hair on his head. "It's going to be okay. We'll get her back." What I say is not enough to calm him down. He notices Jughead standing off to the side, looking all perplexed and confused. I almost forgot he was there. I'll admit, I am quite infuriated that he had the gaul to bring Sabrina with him to a nursery home, that eventually became a new graveyard. I'm pissed beyond relief. But I can't fully blame the boy, and I can't blame Sabrina either. We as the adults locked our mouths shut and threw away the only keys that could potentially end Hal's reign on Riverdale.

I'm so distracted glaring over at Jughead that I don't feel Hiram lift himself off of me. He sits upright and begins to crawl on his hands and knees. "Veronica…." he grumbles as he goes to get back up onto his feet. He makes it one step, then another.

Then he's back down to the ground, coughing up more of what Veronica magically forced into his system.

I'm back by his side, propelling him up without getting the substance on me. I throw one of his arms over my shoulders, the way he and FP did when I fell apart at the pep rally, and I turn to the boy. "JUGHEAD, HELP ME!" The eldest Jones child hesitates at first, but he eventually comes to my aid. He grabs on to the other side of Hiram, and he follows me as I lead up back to the car. We're all stumbling step by step. To my side, kids are running out of the school, screaming for help, yelling at one another, talking about posting some fight onto social media. I thought Veronica's issue was the only problem at the school. What could these kids possibly be referring to?

When we finally reach our car, I ask Jughead to get the passenger side door open and to lower the seat back for Hiram. I wait as Jughead follows my command, and we get him into the car together. I make sure to grab the car keys out of Hiram's coat pocket so I can drive us out of here.

Jughead asks me, "Will anyone at the hospital be able to cure him of that?" Behind me, Hiram continues to cough violently. The longer I watch, the more I realize Jughead has a valid concern. Will the hospital be able to cure Hiram? Or does it require a strong level of magic, like Blue, to get Veronica's plague out of his system? I'm afraid we might have to result to the latter.

I tell Jughead so, which he seems to take better than I assumed. He shoves the beanie on his head father back, messing up his hair. He huffs, "What else can I do to help? Is there anything I can do?"

My mind runs back to the anger I experienced. The shame I felt. Me not telling Sabrina about Hal. Her not telling me about Rose Blossom and this article of hers and Jughead's. And if hell just broke loose in that school, how can the two stay safe from the madness if they go forward and publish the article?

I step towards Jughead, about to place my hands on his shoulders but I stop myself. My hands rest at my sides, tight fists forming. My nails kiss my palms, pushing into the flesh. I have to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth to calm myself down. To keep myself from not breaking down over everything.

"Just….for the sake of your family, and for Sabrina…." I say, with a broken voice, "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't." he chokes out. He shoves his hands into his pockets as he is about to walk away. I watch him, only until a new thought hits me. What if Sabrina brings Veronica to the trailer park? What if Joaquin needs help, and FP and Gladys, and even Toni, can't do anything beyond what they've already provided? Jughead will have to be my eyes and ears.

"WAIT!" I call out to him, causing him to turn around and face me again. "If Sabrina comes back, and if Veronica….if she's-"

"I'll have my parents reach out." He answers. I sigh in relief, but tears still form in my eye sockets. He gives me a little smile out of sympathy, then he walks away.

The violent coughing increases from within the car. I need to get my ass in gear. I need to get Hiram help. I make a beeline for the driver's side and jump in. I use some magic to shut Hiram's door before I can get the car started. He's sweating profusely. He looks up at me with wounded eyes. I smooth down his hair. "Stay with me. We'll get you out of here." I throw the car into gear and go.

The scenery of this town zooms past me as I slam down on the gas. Downtown isn't too far from here, which is a relief. But with the rate of this dark spot growing on his chest….I can't guarantee how much time we have before it gets worse. Or before it kills him.

Hiram coughs. He mutters something to me, but it's so low, I can't hear him. I ask for him to repeat what he just said. "Get me….get me to Pembrooke." he wheezes. "I…I have medicine in my bag. I had it custom made….just in case I ever needed it again."

Needed it again? Hang on….did I just hear him correctly? The dark spot Veronica gave him is not a new happenstance? I glare down at him when I get to a red light. "THIS HAPPENED TO YOU BEFORE?"

He rolls his eyes up at me. "I'll explain when we get to Pembrooke. I…." He cannot get the rest of his sentence out. He coughs up more awful looking dark liquid. And I thought my condition was ugly.

The light goes green. My anxiety picks up to a new level. "I'm going as fast as I can! Hang on!" I shove my foot onto the gas pedal, speeding across the way. A car to the side of us has to stop due to my speed. It honks at me, making me yelp. But I keep going, despite the angry wave of traffic behind us. Pembrooke appears just a few blocks away. I pull over to the side of the curb and throw the car into park. I know I should do the right thing and put it in the parking garage nearby, but Hiram's life is literally at stake, and I need to get him that medicine. The whole thing still weirds me out – when did Veronica first attack him in this fashion? Who was he referring to when he said people like them? WHAT KIND OF WITCHCRAFT DOES VERONICA HAVE?

I get out of the car and run like lightning to get Hiram out from the other side. His feet collide down to the pavement when I get him upright, and he lets out a painful yelp. I guide him up the steps of Pembrooke, baby step by baby step. Should I get someone from the front desk, like Andre, to help me? Or is it better to leave them out of this mess? And if they ask questions, will that require me to…. Will I….

I haven't used the memory removal spell since I left. I try to avoid muttering the spell at all possible. It brings back too many horrid memories. It reminds me of why I had to leave Riverdale. It brings me back to him. And if I have to use the spell today, all it will do is please him. He'll know I have failed Sabrina, that I failed Toni and Joaquin, and the Joneses, and Hiram, and-

I shove a set of doors open, shoving the last of my thought out of my brain. No, I have to get Hiram back into good health. I have to bring Veronica back home to him safe and sound. Joaquin and Toni will need my assistance later. There's too many obligations in the present to stay worrying about what I messed up in the past. An older gentleman behind the front desk looks up at us just as we continue our little two step dance down the corridor. I've seen him around the few times I've been to Pembrooke. Hiram made an effort to introduce a handful of his staff at Pembrooke to me, if for whatever reason I was here and needed anything. Right now, I will need something from that older man if I can't get Hiram up to his place.

The older man comes around from behind the desk, studying Hiram's weakening appearance. "Mister Lodge? Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance-"

"We don't have time!" I cut the man off, struggling to keep Hiram up right. The weight of his arm around my shoulder weighs me down to the point where I'm walking with my legs bent. His breathing gets heavy. The spreading blotch on his chest worsens. I know it'd be better to keep the man, I think Hiram said his name is Smithers, out of harm's way. I might have to brace myself and do the damn spell. But Smithers has been nothing but kind to me and Sabrina. He cares about the Lodge Family. He wouldn't be the type to paint the Lodges out as villains, or to spread rumors on any weird behaviors they may exhibit. The worse Hiram gets, the more I need this man to provide his services. Spell or not.

I look at Smithers and ask, "Can you at least help me get him to the elevator?" I could explain more, but that would only jeopardize things even more. Luckily, Smithers asks no follow up questions. He moves around and throws more of Hiram's weight onto himself, equaling it out between us.

We're able to make it to the elevators in a timely manner. I prepare Hiram's keys in my free hand to grab out the right key when ready while Smithers prepares the elevator for us. He holds the doors open and presses the button to the correct floor while I walk Hiram into the elevator. I rest Hiram against the wall, telling him to hang on, that we're almost there. His feet give out. He slides down to the floor at an alarming rate. I panic and crouch down to keep his lower body from completely slamming to the ground. I cup his face in my hands. "Stay with me." I mutter to him before I return my gaze to Smithers. "I think I can take it over from here."

Smithers glares down at the floor, his expression neutral. Has he witnessed this between Hiram and Veronica before? He looks back at me, I see the sadness forming in his furrowed eyes. "It's a good thing you're around, Miss Smith." He removes his hand from the door, and he returns to his station at the front desk.

I stare at the wall for sometime when the elevator doors chime shut. I didn't think my presence around Pembrooke was that good of a thing. I only thought spending more time with Hiram was more something beneficial for my end of things. Everyone else seems to see the reverse of it. The Joneses. Tom Keller. Toni. Smithers.

Maybe Hiram is changing how he presents himself around Riverdale because of me. But he has no clue what he's done for me as well. And if I lose him now….all that progress I made disappears. I need him just as much as he needs me.

The numbers go up slowly on the button chart. I return my attention to Hiram, using the sleeve of my dress to wipe away forming sweat on the side of his face. I notice his fingers clawing at the collar of his button down. Is he trying to rip it off? He coughs up more of that horrible liquid, now taking on a more regular color. Like blood.

Hiram digs his nails into his shirt, right over the dark blotch. I pry his fingers away, holding onto them tight. "We're just a few floors away. We're almost there." I reassure him. The blotch bulbs out at me. I have to wonder if any kind of spell will stop the spread. Or if any will prevent it from killing him longer he goes without getting this medicine.

He tries to swallow, it's bringing him pain. Tears form in his eyes. His head bobs back to the elevator wall. "The….the pearls…." he chokes out. My mouth slightly opens. What reason does he have to bring up pearls? It wouldn't make sense to bring them up, unless he was thinking about Veronica….

Veronica. Before his infection, he chastised her over something. What needed to control her….

"There's a reason I ask her to wear those pearls." he coughs. I watch a tear trickle down his cheek. His voice breaks when he speaks to me. "This first happened to me when she was 6. Her witchcraft kicked in, she had these horrible outbursts. Plenty of which left me….." he coughs up more blood, "left me like this. I needed to help her. To protect her."

"So you gave her the pearls."

He nods, nibbling on his lip with a frown. "They were custom-made by an acquaintance of mine in the Church. I figured….if I could implant a calming spell, like Blue, and if she wore them….it could make her better." Another nasty cough. More blood and other substances. The numbers climb up slower. He sobs, "But I think I ruined her. I kept her so trapped….I never let her learn how to control it on her own. I failed her. I failed my daughter."

My heart crumbles to pieces hearing him talk this way. I already blame myself for so much that's happened in my life. But I haven't raised a child on my own. I haven't fully dealt with the wrath of the Church. Or lost a partner. And, and, and….. It's tragic. I'm hoping Hiram won't die from this, he survived Veronica's outbursts before. But I don't want him to believe he'll die thinking he failed his daughter, and his wife, and everyone else. Or me for that matter.

I cup his face into my hands. I wipe away those tears. "Listen to me. You did not fail Veronica. You didn't, Hiram." By now, I'm crying too, but not as heavily as him. The elevator chimes. We're on his floor. As the doors open, I tenderly throw his arm around my shoulder once more. "Can you stand?" His head hangs, his eyes droop. He looks back up at me and nods. It takes us a bit to get him back up to his feet. The elevator threatens to close, I use magic to force it back open as we head out.

We stumble down the hallway. The blood keeps coming up at a rapid rate. He tries to catch it in his hands, some dribbles onto the floor. It's difficult to help him walk upright, he's slouching badly now. The door is just at the end of the hallway. I'm really hoping Edgar is inside, or at least in Hiram's office. Maybe he could grab the medicine while I get Hiram somewhere comfortable. Somewhere that won't elevate the pain.

I don't have time to fiddle with the keys, so I just use magic to unlock the front door. I rotate us so Hiram is able to get through the doorway first. He leans up against the door, lifting some of his weight off of me. He braces his arm on the door. He mutters something, I can't tell what. I go to ask him again, but what happens flashes right before my eyes.

Hiram collapses to the floor of the entry way, leaving a bloody handprint on the door.

"NO!" I have to get down on my knees, grab his upper body, and bring him up to face me. The sweat production is worsening. His eyes are becoming bloodshot. The blotch is growing. "Alice…." he mumbles, "Just leave me. I trust Edgar to look after me." At the mentioning of his familiar's name, Edgar flies out of Hiram's office. He caws at us, then looks down at his owner. He hurries over to us, morphing into a larger shape. I keep my grip on Hiram, not ready to let him go.

"Come on." I mutter, assisting Edgar in getting Hiram out of the entry way. Edgar shapeshifts so he can get his body mass under Hiram's legs. I edge my arms under his armpits, hoisting the weight of his torso against my legs. With Edgar's help, we walk him over to the living room couch. When we reach the edge of the couch, I release my arms and position myself close by to Edgar. Together, we get Hiram up onto the cushioned area, propping him against the pillows. Hiram coughs again before he instructs Edgar in Spanish to go back into his office. From what I can make out, he's asking Edgar to get the medicine ready. Wait. He's going to do this on his own? With only his familiar hanging around for extra precautions?

I look down to find Hiram frantically undoing the buttons of his shirt. The blotch looks more horrifying against his skin without the shirt to cover it. "Alice….you can go." he winces. "It's okay."

"What? Hiram, no! I'm not leaving you! Not when you're like this!" I throw back at him, gesturing down to the injured area. From far away, Edgar caws, making a ruckus in the office.

Hiram looks up at me with wounded eyes. "You shouldn't have to see me like this. It's better if you leave now. I think the Joneses need you more…." He stops his sentence, coughing up more blood. The blotch starts to form veins. Exactly like the ones Veronica had on her face before she lashed out at her father. How can he tell me to go and trust he'll be alright if he's going through this? What purpose would it serve for him to toss me back to the Southside, to where I'll only be further reminded of my screw-ups? Where I'll have it right in front of my face that I'm alone?

FP has Gladys. They have their kids. Toni and Joaquin have one another. Sabrina….she's on her own, but she still has family and friends. And me?

Sabrina was right. I spent too much of my life running away. I turned people away, and if I dared to think I could get attached, people would move on. They'd act like I never existed, or they treat me like a pariah. Just like the Spellman Sisters. Just like everyone in high school.

No. Not again. I can't keep letting people get hurt because I left them behind. I can't let Veronica lose her only family.

I now understand why FP snapped at me the night of the pep rally. He was frightened of losing me. The way I am now for Hiram.

So, I say, with my eyes misting, "WELL, I NEED YOU." The power of my voice stuns us both to silence. It echoes across the room, bouncing off the walls. Hiram's lip wobbles. I cup his face, finally allowing myself to break. "Just let me stay." I plead, feeling his heartbeat pulse from his neck into my arm. "Let me help you." I rest my forehead against his, our breathing becoming more in sync. I want to say more, to tell him what's really going through my brain. But my weeping overpowers my ability to speak. I let the thoughts stay inward. Don't leave me like the rest of them. Don't leave me to walk this world alone.

Edgar comes out of the office. He drops something onto the coffee table in front of us. I don't see what he found until he uses his beak to tap on my shoulder. There, I find a good-sized syringe next to a small container of hazy blue liquid. I look back over at Hiram, his exposed chest. Oh….I get it now. He needs the injection to go straight into the blotch, and that can't happen if the blotch remains hidden.

I turn back to Edgar, reaching for the syringe and the medicine. "Gracias." I tell him, and I get to work. I plunge the syringe into the bottle, sucking up as much of this medicine as the syringe can hold. I haven't dealt with any kind of shots since grade school. I know I needed vaccines so I can attend school, much of which I had to use my father's drug money to pay for. As I got older, I stopped resorting to that practice, since it was mostly for mortals. My witch-side has at least spared me from dealing with the severities of human diseases. But in terms of unusual cases, like what Hiram is going through, like what I continue to go through thanks to Hal…. That requires more intense witchcraft to cure.

The syringe hits its capacity. Following in suit of most medical dramas on TV, I plink at the syringe with my first two fingers once I set the container down. I turn my attention back to Hiram. "This might hurt, so….I'm sorry if I get in too hard." I hear him try to mumble, I guess giving me last minute advice on how to use the syringe. I would appreciate it, but time is not on our side, and I would rather have a cured Hiram Lodge to help me find our girls later on.

I jab the needle straight into the blotch. His eyes bulge, he inhales sharply. I push down on the syringe, the blue liquid disappearing into the pound of his flesh. Hiram clings to me for dear life. He welps into my shoulder as I finish injecting this medicine into his wound. Once it's empty, I toss the syringe back onto the coffee table. I embrace him fully, gently stroking his back. "Shh….it's okay. It's over." I do my best to comfort him. I keep it up a few times, just until his grip on me softens. It softens to the point where he's no longer reaching for me. To the point where he's completely limp in my arms. The way I was the night I saw my name in the Book.

"HIRAM? HIRAM!" I lean him back against the couch. His eyes are drooping shut. The dark blotch swirls with the color of the medicine, battling for dominance. Oh no. Was that why he tried to advise me before injecting him? AM I KILLING HIM?

He gasps, making me jump in my seat. He blinks at me. "It'll take a few minutes to kick in." he breathes. "Just gotta…..just have to wait it out." He loses his ability to speak. He rests his head against a pillow, breathing heavy. The war inside his flesh continues to play out in a most violent fashion. My brain races. What if it doesn't kick in? What would be the other alternative? Come on, Alice. THINK!

One option lingers in the back of my head, coming into the forefront. One option that saved me that night, and the night of the pep rally. What has brought me comfort when my tattoo was destroyed. Wait, the spell is meant for him to do. Could it work if I did it? I don't know….but it might be the only choice I have.

My hand goes to the infected area. I spread my fingers wide, feeling his heart struggling to keep a consistent beat. I close my eyes, concentrating on the area in my head. I need a song, just something musical that will expedite this whole process. The only song that comes to me is the one that played when Hiram and I laid on the floor. I let the Bee Gees pound in my head, my eardrums, as I start to speak.

It's not as elegant or as calming when he usually speaks Blue. My voice is butchered and cracking from all my recent upset. But I keep my hindsight on the area, projecting the music and the meaning of these words towards it. I stumble on the pronunciation, but I get right back on track. I can't tell if it's working with my eyes closed. But the longer I keep up with the first round of my chanting, I feel his heartbeat start to level out. The movement of the blotch in combination with the medicine decreases. The Bee Gees sing louder in my head.

I open my eyes, staring down at him. The blotch is nowhere near gone, but its grueling domination of his chest has mitigated. Hiram glares down at the area, at my hand on his chest. He brings his gaze back up to me. Lone tears stream down his cheeks.

"¿Memorizaste mi hechizo?" You memorized my spell?

I laugh in between choking back tears. "How else do you think I've been trying to heal my thigh?" A grin forms. He chuckles low, just enough that it won't upset the infected area. Yet, with the downtime between me performing Blue and our current moment, its power begins to die down. Oh, this is not good.

I get going again, attempting to keep the same pace I used originally. My nervousness causes me to fumble on words. My distraction keeps me from amplifying the song I used. A new voice comes into the scene. At first, I think it's a new song, one I didn't anticipate on using. But as I listen to it, I realize it's not a new song. It's Hiram saying Blue with me. He whispers the words to guide me, he uses his finger to tap on my wrist. To keep a steady rhythm for us. A stronger haze of blue enters both my mind space and his, the music flows easily.

My eyes flutter open. The last of the medicine absorbs the substance that overtook his chest, leaving only a red spot from where it sat. Hiram stops coughing. His heartbeat mellows out. His state of being softens.

"Perhaps it was a good thing you stayed." he whispers. I can tell he's coming back to normal. His mischievous, flirty behavior has resurfaced. My forehead remains glued to his. I feel the trace of his fingers against my jawline.

I smirk. "Easy there, Manhattan. You're not at full capacity just yet." He gives me a look of What did you call me? before he bursts into a giggling fit. It causes me to giggle too. I'm just relieved that he didn't die on me. I'm relieved that he bounced back as strongly as he did. I can only hope now, for his sake and frankly for my own, that the girls came come back too.

I have to push away any negative thoughts of Sabrina and Veronica. It will only work me up to the point of fear and upset. It'll slow down my chances of aiding Hiram in his recovering. And I will need just as much energy for when I get back to the trailer park to help the Joneses and Toni with Joaquin.

I examine Hiram head to toe. He'll need a bath, or a shower. Whatever will bring him the most comfort and get him cleaned up the fastest. And what will give me enough time to recuperate from the insanity I just witnessed.

So, I set the thought into motion. "Why don't we get you cleaned up?"

XXXXXXXX

The bed feels firmer from the last time I sat on it. I'm half running my fingers along the comforter, half glaring down at this….

I was able to get Hiram into the bathroom and take a wet cloth to his face. Now that he has some energy to take care of himself without me, he decided to jump into the shower. I asked if he wanted me to bring him a spare change of clothes, he told me he could hold off and grab it himself when he got out. "In the meantime, if you wish," he pointed out towards the bedroom as he began to run the water, "I have reading materials in my side table drawer. It could help to explain…." His voice dropped there. I didn't really pick up on what he meant at first. Help to explain what? More of his family's history? More about Veronica?

The pearls. People like them.

I left him to shower up and wandered out into the bedroom, leading me to search his drawers. A manila folder sat on top of some loose leaf papers, old baby teeth that belonged to Veronica, more of that medicine.

Now, I'm sitting on his bed pouring through this folder, with the sound of the running water filling in the blank spaces of my silence. Reading through what Hiram has gathered over the years makes our current research look like a fourth grader's first book report. But considering that Veronica has behaved this way before, and the reasons why Hiram and his daughter reside in Riverdale…. Toni was right. Sabrina and I are lucky to go through our current situation. It pales in comparison to what Hiram had done over the years to protect Veronica.

She's had this condition since childhood, most likely after Hermione's passing. He confronted multiple sources within the Witches Council and with the Church of Night to figure out how to handle Veronica. But none had ever seen witchcraft that dark. That violent. The pearls he gifted her aren't a cure, but a treatment like he described. He's scribbled notes on the margins of these pages, tracking the success or failure of the pearls, her interactions with other witches, her want to attend mortal school.

I fear she may not be ready, he writes in one area. If she has another lash out, if anyone learns of what she has, it could jeopardize her life. I understand her need for social interaction. I held those feelings once at her age. Am I going to fast? Will letting her attend a mortal school reverse all the progress we made?

Eventually, he did deem her ready for an education amongst other mortals, like he once had when he met me. He keeps referring to some daily journal that tracked her symptoms, but when looking back at his drawer, I can't find anything that looks like his little science experiment on his daughter. For the most part, the amount of research decreases the older she gets, the less he can fear for her safety.

That is until there's paperwork about this family. The St. Clairs.

The last of what resides in the manila folder is all about the St. Clair family and their background. Hundreds of articles. Financial records. Text messages and social media posts from the teenage boy, Nick. What reason did Hiram have to cyber stalk this family? Unless they did something to Veronica….

My eyes go to a document with the family's seal. The paper used to print the letter is hard and egg shell colored. I read the words on the page, looking for any clue that could explain its presence amongst the research. But there are no specific clues. The answers all displayed right there in black and white.

It's a letter of approval for Nick St. Clair to seal his pledge in the family's name to this society, once he has completed his task of killing a Miss Veronica Cecilia Lodge.

My heart plummets to my stomach. My hand flies to my mouth. I heard countless rumors from patrons at the diner of why Hiram and Veronica came to Riverdale. Many including that he was a mobster that had to go on witness protection. That he killed a family and needed to lie low with his daughter. I would have first bought into that if Hiram never revealed himself as a witch to me. I would have believed he used magic to harm others for his own advances. Now I have pieces of the truth in front of me.

The St. Clairs were hunters. Hiram brought Veronica to his hometown to keep her away from the St. Clairs and their society.

"It still puzzles me to this day how they would have known of her condition." Hiram's voice spooks me. I whip my head around to find him emerging out of the bathroom in a white robe. His arms fold over his stomach watching me read through his discoveries. He meanders more into the bedroom. "I would guess their primary gatherings on Veronica came from their boy, Nicholas. He spent more time with her. He would have fed information back to his parents."

He wanders over to his dresser and begin to pull out clothes. I turn my head away, just to give him some privacy as he changes. I look back down at the pile of papers on the St. Clairs. I look down at the date of this document in front of me. From what I keep hearing, Hiram and Veronica came to Riverdale at some point before the school year picked up. If the school year started after Labor Day, the Lodges must have arrived at some point before the end of August. This letter is dated from May, at least 3 months before then.

"What did they do to her, Hiram?" my voice croaks. I hear him huff from the other side of the room. He shoves a drawer shut.

"They invited her to their home one night for dinner. When she came back, all…." He pauses, not sure of how to describe the events to me. I feel the bed sink a little when Hiram joins my side. I look over to find him in a dark shirt and a pair of Riverdale Wrestling Team sweatpants. His fingers hover over the document. "I spent most of that night analyzing the events in her head. She believed the boy sexually assaulted her in some way. That's what I had wanted to believe when she returned home. But, the more I looked into her memories…."

"You think they drugged her? So she would reveal her powers to them?"

Hiram runs his hand down his chin, taking a long shaky breath. "They placed a sedative in her drink. It blurred any sense that told her something was not right. She must have begun to panic, because she couldn't hide anything from them. Only she wasn't aware of it.

"The St. Clairs decided it was time for Nicholas to make his attack. So, he went to corner her, to follow the methods his family spent his lifetime teaching him. But it made her more afraid. It made her more violent, and wild. She got away from that family without a scratch on her, but that didn't mean….it couldn't guarantee…." He has to pause again, he's getting worked up over the subject. He doesn't like seeing Veronica get hurt. He really does care for her.

He gulps down saliva before continuing, "I knew I had to act. To take her someplace where no one else like the St. Clairs could put her in harm's way. I had to spent weeks, months even, preparing my case for the Church, to convince them to allow me to bring Veronica here. That's why I have the articles, and the financial records." He gestures down to the other set of documents next to me. "When I learned in the activities the St. Clairs took active part in, I was….beyond livid. In a way, they reminded me of the Blossoms, except I learned much quicker by then of their hunts against people like us. I just wish I had known sooner. I would have faced the St. Clairs by my own means, to beg for my daughter's life. All the work I had done to raise her….." He stops suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut. He furrows his face and slams a fist into the mattress. He looks so defeated, it's heart wrenching. And I really can't do much about it, other than giving him moral support.

I reach for his hand, encasing it between both of mine. I feel his fingers squeeze my inner hand. His face loosens up a bit, then he looks over at me. He fights back tears as he lets out another huff.

I hate wanting to ask more questions, he's probably tired of dragging himself into bad memories. But, if the Lodges are here in Riverdale under the watchful eye of the Church….. "Are they still after her? Do they know you're here?"

He stays quiet for a little while. The fist on the side eases up, his hand relaxing. His lips form a neutral line. He brings his gaze up to me. "I'm afraid," he sighs, "the Church saw to it that the St. Clairs would never interfere in our lives again. But for a price." A price? What could that mean? Before I can even ask, Hiram explains, "They would handle the family and allow me to take Veronica to Riverdale….as long as I joined the Council to represent the witch community in town, and if I acted on their behalf for certain tasks. Kind of like what I'm doing right now for the Spellmans." He goes quiet again, nibbling on his bottom lip. So the Church gave the Lodges sanctuary, but that still doesn't answer my question on….

"The St. Clairs, on the other hand….they would not receive such a promising ending. Not for what they did to us. So….the Church made sure their legacy would never impact another member. The week before Labor Day, when I took Veronica out for lunch at this restaurant, the Dakota, when one of my staff arrived to our table, with news from the Church." I watch him go still. He rests his free arm over his legs, pointing a finger towards the folder. I look back down at it. What more does he want me to see? Behind one of the St. Clairs' records, a newspaper article rests at the end of the folder. I lift it up, being careful to not rip any of the paper. A picture of a car wreck sits on the front page. All sides of the vehicle are smashed. Paramedics survey the scene.

Finally, I read the headline out loud. "New York Family in Violent Road Collision. Parents Die While Son Is Left in Coma."

My heart pounds faster, making my chest rise and fall. I have to set the article down, I don't want to keep looking at the photo, or the headline. The Church killed the St. Clairs. I know they must have deserved it for what happened to Veronica….but to react in a way that could point fingers at any of them, I'm stunned. The only similar instance I can think of is what happened to the Spellmans, Sabrina's mother and father. But Sabrina's father was the head of the Council. They had no reason to be a target for anyone. But that's assuming the Church arranged their deaths….

Now I get why Hiram devotes so much of his current loyalty to the Church. He has to play nice to thank them for handling the St. Clair situation. For allowing him to marry a mortal, for adopting a child, for defying his family's traditions all his childhood. He'll never stop having to repay them for their services. He's indebted to them, and he cannot get out of it unless he is permanently excommunicated, or if he is dead. The thought makes me want to cry. And it does to some extent. My eyes mist up when I look at him. I release one of my hands so I can cradle his head, bringing it down to my shoulder. I end up wrapping both of my arms around him, stroking the hair around his ear with my thumb. He places his hand by my hip, a new gesture which normally would make me panic, but he's being gentle. He doesn't press down onto my hip nor does he cause my tattoo injury to flare up. It almost feels like he isn't touching the area at all. It's more like a blanket wrapped around me. I'm okay with that.

"I'll never stop owing my life to them." he sounds distressed when he speaks again. He tilts his chin up so he can look at me. His eyes grow wet, showing the intensity of his emotion. "I'm trapped, Alice. Everything I do, the Church finds a way to make me more indebted to them. I'm trapped, all because I wanted a life for my own. All because I don't know how to love her…."

"You do love her. That's not true." I lift his chin, keeping my hand there. I wipe away a tear with my thumb. I know I keep telling him that he's doing a good job with Veronica, that his efforts of raising her as a single parent have not ended in failure. But my words may not be enough to drown out the intrusive thoughts. To stop whatever previous judgement he received from the Council, from the Spellmans. I need to make it loud and clear, the way I did when he shared with me his grieving over Hermione.

"Whoever says you are not doing good enough is wrong, Hiram." I tell him, choking up myself. "I don't doubt for one moment that Veronica sees you as a horrible parent. You've done so much for her, can't you see? You are not failing her." I want to believe what I tell him could apply for myself. That I'm not failing Sabrina, or Jellybean. But lately, all I seem to do is drive Sabrina away. For Jellybean, that's not the case, but it could be the more she stays in my life. So, out of the two of us in this room, I'm the one that feels like a failure. The bad parental figure. I will never have the experience of raising a child, not the way Hiram and the Joneses have for nearly 17 years. Not the way Hilda and Zelda stepped in to raise Sabrina. All of them look like rock stars taking care of their children, and here I am, letting Sabrina dangle her feet into the ocean so the sharks can eat her whole.

But now cannot be about me bemoaning on about my failures. Now needs to be time to reassure Hiram, to give him the comfort the Church falsely provided him and Veronica. I don't care how long I have to stay in this room as Hal burns the world around us. I'd rather have Hal take me out seeing me here than allowing Hiram to drive himself into a remorseful state.

I let my hand fall from his face, caressing his neck instead. I bump my forehead to his. My eyes shut. Our breathing comes together. I sniffle, "You have not lost Veronica, Hiram. Blood or not, she is your child. The light of your life. Don't let anything else pollute that. She loves you so much. You still have one another."

He releases an exhale, accompanied by a sob. He reaches for my upper arm, stroking my bicep. I can hear him sniffle, I open my eyes to watch him grit his teeth. He squeezes his eyes shut before he asks, "And if I've lost her today? If Sabrina loses her, and if she never comes home?"

Despair. Loneliness. I feel it all radiating out of his eyes. Out of his tongue. The true notion of failure, despite all the work for the Church. He'll forever see himself as alone, for not having done enough to pay his dues. Not anyone. Not with me sitting right here. Hiram promised me fealty. He has given me sanctuary. I have to do the same for him. I must.

I hold him steady, looking straight at him. "Then you still have me." He blinks at me in confusion, unsure of how to interpret my words. I have to take a deep breath before I finish. "I'm still here, Hiram. You won't go through this alone, not anymore." His mouth gapes, he adopts the same look I gave him when he made that vow. My hand creeps back up to cup his cheek. I bring the other hand up to cup the other side. Then, I lean in. I start by kissing one cheek, then the other. I plant little kisses by his eyebrows, on his forehead, on his nose. This level of affection is one I never would have done for anyone in high school, with the exception of Hal on the good days. I'm not really an affectionate person, so this act is foreign for me. But Hiram deserves love. He deserves to have someone dote on him and recognize his good deeds when he won't see it for himself. He needs that reassurance, the way I do. He needs it more than I do.

I stop my kissing, leaving his lips the only place I haven't touched with my own. I don't know what prevents me from doing so, other than I'm scared to give myself away so early on. I haven't fully recovered from Hal, and I don't want to ruin my relationship with Hiram by advancing on him this way. So, I decide to just let my thumbs run down his lips in place of what could have occurred. I allow my forehead to connect with his again. By now, he's weeping, he reaches to touch my face. My heart pounds in an irregular pattern. Sometimes, I hate being this vulnerable around people. But vulnerability has brough Hiram and I together. And vulnerability is keeping us together.

My eyelids begin to droop. My body begins to sag. It's probably not even 5 o'clock yet, but I'm exhausted. It's been a long day, and I just want to sack out. I know finding Sabrina and Veronica is a priority, but I need rest. I bet Hiram may need rest too. We can pick up our search for the girls after a good nap.

"Alice…." Hiram croaks. I push some straggling hair out of his eyes. He sniffles while trying to say my name again. "Alice…. I…."

"Shh…." I peel myself away from him, leaning back into the bed. "Try to get some rest. We can talk more later." I use magic to close the curtains by the bay window, and to turn off the lights in the room. I take Hiram's hand, silently begging him to lay next to me. Maybe I am going to fast, I don't know. I'm not having sex with him, or making out with him. It's just sharing a bed with him for a nap, only I think I want to be cradled into him while we sleep. Teen Alice would gag if she saw us like this now.

I shove Teen Alice out of my head as I wait for Hiram to take my cues. He takes a corner of the comforter and peels it back, exposing the inside of this bed. He climbs in, lifting up more so I can climb in as well. I let my arms rest on top of the sheets, allowing the dark to absorb me. I hear Hiram sniffle next to me. I turn to my side, propping my hand under the side of my head. I run my thumb across the flesh under his eye, removing any tears that may have formed. I inch closer to him, hoping my presence is bringing him some comfort. I remove my hand from my head, extending my arm to land nearby his head. It takes a bit, but soon enough, Hiram reaches out to me, placing his hand on my hip again. I trace the outline of his face with my fingertips. The lines forming at his eyes, around his eyebrows. The mole by the side of his nose. His fingers dance along my jawline, hovering there.

He rests his forehead against my shoulder, fully holding onto me. I return the gesture and rest back against the bed, his bodyweight on me. Past experience would make me freak. Time tells me to slow down, to reconsider what I'm doing. My head wants me to look at my situation from all angles. My heart tells me it's okay. That I can trust Hiram. And for the first time, in quite a long time, I listen to my heart as it soothes us both to sleep.

XXXXXXXX

It's later at night when we make it to Pop's. We both woke up around 8:30, nearly four hours after we came to Pembrooke. We both were hungry, and we needed to get a head start on finding the girls. I figured food could help calm my nerves, and to not think about Hal getting his hands on them.

I think I've come to the conclusion that I'll get fired for missing so much work. I tell this to Hiram on the drive over. He tells me not to panic, that Pop will understand. I had to tend to him, and to Joaquin. I did a favor for Toni. I want to believe him, but with how crazy everything has gotten in town….I don't want to think of any other alternative.

The diner isn't packed when we pull into the driveway, just a few teen couples scattered in the booths. Hiram puts the car into park, the ignition stops roaring. I glare into the diner through the windows. Everyone looks so happy. They're so obliviously at peace, it hurts. I want a sign that she's okay. That either one of them are okay. I check my phone to see if FP or Gladys, or even Toni, have any updates. The only thing I see is a text from Gladys, responding back to what I sent about five minutes ago. She and FP are going to talk with Jughead tonight about the article, and what to do about Joaquin. She doesn't know if they'll need to involve the other Serpents quite yet. She and Toni need to figure out a game plan. I also see a text from Toni, thanking me again for watching over her shop. She says that she'll let me know if she needs me to cover again, just in case the Joaquin problem brews into tomorrow.

We sit in silence for a while, watching the happy faces bop around inside the diner. Will the faces match the one of the girls? Their hair? Will Pop know if they dropped by earlier? It's too much to ask of him, considering I have skipped so much work. But Pop knows we care for the girls. He knows of our commitment to them. I just hope tonight it won't be another let down.

Hiram breaks our silence. "Not to ask a bad question, but…." he clears his throat, "Have you considered….do you know what will come for Sabrina? Would you want to inform her aunts on today's events?" I lean back against the car seat. I haven't put much consideration to it. Frankly, I was starting to get used to Hilda and Zelda giving me the silent treatment during my time here. With no word about Sabrina's trial. No updates on my shop. Not even a word from Ambrose. Maybe the only way I can get the Spellman Sisters to talk is if I….if I decide to….

"It's not a bad question." I start by saying, letting him know it's alright. I sigh, "Worse case, I take her home, back to Greendale. Just to get her away from Hal, and under the protection of her Aunts. Best case…." I pause again, running my fingers through my hair. My tongue goes dry, so does my throat.

Hiram fills it in for me, "She's more than welcome to reside with me and Veronica in Pembrooke. The girls will have all the care they need." I feel his fingers slip between my own. I watch his lip curl upward, in a sad way. "I owe it to you after what you did for Veronica." I don't really know what to say. I kept Veronica with me and Sabrina only because it wouldn't be safe for her to go home alone after her time with Chuck Clayton. I had no obligation to do so, and I still did it anyway. Does Hiram feel like he owes me? Personally, he doesn't. But he is so willing to look after her while I finish off Hal….

Well, until I find another alternative, he will do. I can't manage to say much, other than, "Thank you." I smile at him, but it doesn't last long. My mind just goes straight back to the Spellmans. To what they could say when….if I have to bring her home.

Hiram must be picking up on my worry. He squeezes my hand, "If….if you have to resort to your worse case scenario….when would you consider…." He can't finish the question. He doesn't want to think about it anymore than I do. And I don't blame him, not after what he went through today.

I bring my hand up to the dashboard, tapping on it with my fingertips. I shrug my shoulders. "Maybe by Christmas? Or New Years? Depends on how bad it gets here." I look out to the window on my side. Branches flow with the wind, staying sturdy in the trees. I wonder where he's hiding right now. Somewhere out in Pickens Park, or in Fox Forest? Is he watching us? No, he would have to lie low and recover from his attack at the Sisters. He needs time before he'll kill again. Maybe going back for Joaquin. Maybe to feast on Veronica or Sabrina. Or me for that matter.

I wonder if that stupid cat of Sabrina's got out of Pembrooke and meandered into the woods somewhere. I didn't feel its aura when we were just there, and Hiram hasn't seen it come out of Veronica's room in a while. Maybe it's for the better that I did not reunite with the damn thing. The bad vibes it gives off would have prevented us from getting Hiram cured. It would have made me sick again, the way it did the morning of the pep rally.

Now that I think on it, why did Sabrina's cat make me throw up that day? It hadn't done anything to me before, it would just growl at me or give me a deadly glare as I passed. No….it did make me nauseous a few times, and it seemed to happen right when I feel Hal.

Something comes into my memory. A small detail that I must have overlooked when I took time to examine that cat. When I held it, when I looked at its face, I had a sense of déjà vu. I picture that little face, its black fur, its strange eyes. Every detail.

Then it hits me. The cat had a scratch on its face, almost identical to the one I gave Hal when he attacked me.

Okay, I'm analyzing way too heavily. It's just a scratch! The cat probably injured itself while running around in the woods for all I care. Whatever. I just want everything to stay peaceful for the next couple of days. I keep hearing about this Jubilee, Sierra McCoy's last hurrah as Mayor. I can only be optimistic that Hal won't enter the Jubilee disguised and unleash his power on everyone there. If he does….then I might have to attend. It'd be better to end him there with Hiram around than rely on my own strengths to kill him when I've parted ways with everyone. Again. Maybe for the last time….

"Hopefully I'll still be in town for the Jubilee at the end of the week." I tell him. "Could stop my brain from overthinking things for a couple of hours." I take my hand off the dashboard and pick at my fingernails. Hang nails form on the sides of one finger. I start to peel back at it, making the area bleed a little.

"Maybe it might be good for you to go. For all of us to go." I turn to him, only to find that his smile is fading. Huh….why now is he acting all skittish on me? Does he think the comment came off as too flirtatious? I didn't interpret it that way; I happen to agree that maybe it'd be nice to get out. But I don't get a chance to tell Hiram that. He stumbles on words, "But if you had plans with the Joneses….or if you just wanted to attend the Jubilee with Sabrina…."

"I haven't made any plans yet." I confess, temporarily pausing his train of thought. I hold my breath for a moment, then let it out. "I was just….I was planning on playing it by ear. Just in case…." I let my voice die out, not wanting to say the last part out loud. Just in case I have to confront Hal, ending it all between him and me.

Hiram doesn't fight back, nor does he question my answer. He just bobs his head, and he forms a small grin. "Perfectly fine. Do what you feel comfortable with. But if you did want to arrange anything together….let me know." He stares down at our hands, running his fingertip along the inner grooves of the space between my fingers. Maybe he was trying to suggest something. Did he want to go with me alone? With the girls? It's the complete opposite of him inviting me to dinner at Lenny's for our meeting, and that felt like eons ago. Now, he's shy, and not as bold. He doesn't want to intrude on my own affairs. He's more cautious, rather wanting to ask for my consent than enforcing time together on me. Come to think about it, I don't think Hal ever ask for consent for things towards the end. He burned my tattoo without clearing it by me. He killed my classmates with approaching me. He acted on his own behalf, assuming I'd be okay with it.

But Hiram is not Hal.

So, I do the thing again and enclose both hands around his, pulling them into my lap. "You know I was going to sit with you anyway, right?" I giggle, trying to lighten the mood. "I'd practically have to drag Gladys and her family with me, but….we're all going to wind up together eventually." The last part produces a chuckle on his end. That's good.

Just for shits and giggles, I add on, "Either that, or they'll leave us to sit together and….observe from afar. Like we're on Animal Planet, or something." I extend my fingers and wiggle them for dramatic affect. Hiram watches me in silence, then he rolls his eyes.

"I take it the Joneses assume we're together." My face lights up. I didn't even have to cue him in on the Jones's gossip about us, and he got it! Oh, if only he had any clue what else they've have said…. But that can wait for another time. For now, I just laugh in unison with him.

Time passes, and my stomach growls. "Okay, Manhattan. I'm hungry, and I need brain power before we look for teenage girls in the middle of the night. So…." I decide to spice things up by throwing on a JB level pouty face. "Food?"

He chuckles. "Yes, Acid Queen Alice. Food."

We get out of the car and make our way into the diner. 70s music blares from the little jukebox across the way. A couple of my co-workers wave hello to me as they pass. They ask how I'm doing, how Sabrina is holding up, the usual chatter. I just tell them we're both fine and wander away with Hiram. We go over to the bar area and take a seat. Pop Tate finishes cleaning out a milkshake glass when he sees that.

"Miss Beauchamp! You're back!" I wave hello as he comes our way. I start to apologize for skipping so much work, for not being able to do my shift for tonight. Despite how badly I want to explain that a nurse I just met escape from a massacre, and Hiram's daughter attacked him, and both girls we care about have gone MIA, I have to bite my tongue on those. He tells me not to worry over it, he has enough staff to get through tonight. "Do you think you can start work again tomorrow?"

"Sure thing." I glow at him. "Nobody's been missing my pies too much, have they?" We both laugh at the comment, though I might end up cringing at myself later. Pop asks if we'll take our usual orders. Normally, I would have time to savor over a plate of chicken tenders and fries, but time has not been my friend today.

Luckily, Hiram provides the explanation on behalf of us. "If you're able to do it in a timely manner tonight, Pop. There's something we have to do, and the sooner we get a move on…." Pop glares at us funny. I can almost hear him asking, What do you mean?

"Pop," I start, "have you seen Sabrina or Veronica around earlier? It's fine if you haven't, but….we lost track of them this afternoon, and….we're worried that…."

Hiram fills in the rest for me, "But if you are able to….if the girls do come around here later tonight, would you let one of us know?"

"Why would I need to do that?" The question sits with me funny. Now I'm wondering what Pop means. But before either one of us can ask for clarification, a new voice enters the conversation. One that we spent the afternoon worrying over.

"Daddy?"

Hiram and I both rotate to find the body matching the dismembered voice. She's still in her Pop's uniform. Her hair's been pulled back into a low, loose ponytail. But nothing seems that off about her appearance. No twigs sticking out of her hair, no dirt on her skin or her shoes. Physically, she's alright, but I can't guarantee how she is mentally. But she's alive. Veronica is alive.

And behind her, just a few feet away, a tiny blonde gives me a sorrow look.

Her name escapes from my lips. "Sabrina."

XXXXXXXX

SABRINA

It was a miracle I was able to find V. I thought I would have to hitchhike all over town to scan the streets for her. Luckily, I stayed on foot the entire time, checking all the place I figured she'd be. The school locker room. The library. The coffee shop. No sign of her. I considered going to Pembrooke and checking in with the staff there. Andre might have caught a glimpse of her. Or Mister Smithers. But when I thought about it, I realized it wouldn't be a good idea. Salem could be there, and I was in no mood to confront him. Nor was I in the mood to confront Ali. Not just yet.

I also don't think I'd want to see Mister Lodge in pain. V wasn't at fault, she didn't mean to hurt him! But….but she still did something unlike what I've seen her do before. It reminded me of how she set that dummy on fire the night Moose and Midge were shot at, and when she couldn't snap out of her faze. But this time, she had it under control. She released that energy onto her father, fully aware of herself in that state, even if it was merely an accident. If V has been overtaken by her condition, will it be possible to disintegrate its presence in her? Will I get back the girl who showed me around on my first day? Will I get my best friend back?

I kept running through town, making my way towards Pickens Park. I kept calling her name, hoping for some sign of her. The sky darkened, meaning not as much light available for me to conduct my search. I passed by a handful of families and young couples, asking if they have seen a raven-haired girl in a cheerleading uniform zoom through the area, earning me blank responses or shaking heads. The sun continued to fade away, I was getting lost through this place of familiarity. I was about ready to give up, then I remembered – I'm a witch! I could use a spell to summon her, or to help me track her steps! I resort to one spell I used as a child, playing hide-and-seek throughout our house with Ambrose or with Auntie Hilda. The spell allows for the seeker to follow the steps of the hider from their scent, or their aura. For the sake of today's events, I recalled V's aura color and conjured the spell in a quick manner. I was unsuccessful for the first handful of areas I visited, only going into bushes or other park attendants. I decided to try over by where I had V training. The ashes of the burned dummy were buried under the snow. The echoes of Moose and Midge's screams nearby in Lovers' Lane reached my eardrums. I performed the spell again, hoping it would be the last time I would have to perform it today.

V's tracks appeared in her aura color. It led me passed the park bench where we had our meal from Pop's, going into where Salem disappeared into the woods. If Salem found V before I did, I would never forgive myself. Fortunately, I got there first.

The instant I saw the royal blue and buff yellow sticking out like a sore thumb in the snow, I sprinted over. "V!" I called out, but she wasn't listening to me. She kept her head down to the ground, running her fingernails across her palms. I finally came over to her and knelt down in front of her. I placed my hands on her shoulders, startling her. "V! It's just me! I'm going to take you home."

She blinked at me for a little bit. The dark veins on her face faded the more she reclaimed her familiarity with me. She gasped for air, sniffling back tears. "Is my…." she started, choking on her own words. "Is my father alright? Did I kill him?" My mind flashed back to Mister Lodge with that horrible spot on his chest. I heard noise come out of him before I left to find V, so I guessed he was okay. But V didn't know that.

"I'm going to take you back to him, okay? We'll get this all sorted out, V. I promise." Her lips wavered. She was shivering. I didn't want to keep seeing her like this. I didn't want to see V punish herself for an accident beyond her control. I didn't want her to end up like me.

I pulled her in for a tight hug, hoping it would provide some warmth. She wept into the space between my neck and my shoulder, muttering "I'm sorry, 'Brina. I'm sorry." She kept doing that for a while until I pulled out and cupped her face. By then, I was beginning to shiver too. And I was hungry.

"You want to go someplace warm?" I asked. She nodded, not giving me a fight.

That's how we wound up here at Pop's, slowing consuming our dinners while our classmates sneered at us from booths across the diner. The events of this afternoon still leave me out of whack. I can still hear the Riverdale student body yelling at me to get out of their school, demanding I burn for what V and I "did" to the Vixens. I bet the Dark Lord is having a field day listening to the cries for my persecution. Maybe he's deciding to not have me go on trial after all – why demand for me to follow the Path of Night when Riverdale teenagers can deliver me to him themselves?

I push the thought out of my head and reach for a chicken tender. The breading melts on my tongue, the grease embraces the insides of my cheeks. I look over at V, who's barely touched her meal. She has her hair back in a low, loose ponytail, just so it's not polluting her face. I ask her what's wrong.

She sighs. "That wasn't the first time I lashed out at Daddy. As a toddler, I couldn't control my energy. I've wounded Daddy too many times to count on two hands. That's primarily why he gave me the pearls." I nod my head, remembering when she told me and Salem of the pearls' origin story. V rests her cheek onto one palm. "I'm amazed I didn't hurt my mother in the same fashion when she was still alive."

My back straightens when she finishes saying that. Does V actually believe she could have brought harm to her mother? Does she think she killed her mother? No….no, I find that very hard to believe. V is not a killer in any way, shape, or form. If that is true, then what would explain her violent tendencies? Could it stem from Mister Lodge's side of the family? Perhaps, but I'm too drained and emotionally stifled to jump to any sort of conclusions right now.

Although, my curiosity still gets to the worst of me. I ask her, "What do you mean by that?"

"Daddy tends to avoid any discussion about my time as a baby, before my mom's death. Probably could be from post-traumatic stress, or long-term grieving. But, yeah….every time I ask Daddy about what my mom went through when she had me….he just goes quiet. Or he just outright changes the topic of conversation. I've never had a clear answer come out of him." I watch V pick up a french fry and start to nibble on it.

"That almost sounds like what my Aunties do when I ask about my parents' deaths." I tell her. I really do relate to V in that sense. Aunties will dodge the question on what happened the day my parents died, how they wound up dying in a plane crash, why they were on that plane in the first place….

The only story I've heard, mostly from Ambrose, was that Dad had wanted to take my mother to Italy, a lifelong destination she wanted to visit. I know a council for the Church of Night does exist somewhere in that country, led by an Anti-Pope. I've come to guess that maybe Dad wanted to meet with the Anti-Pope while still heading our group in Greendale, and he saw an opportunity to bring my mother with him. How I didn't end up on that plane with them is still a mystery. Why I haven't met any of my mother's human relatives….if there are any living relatives of hers, will never be resolved either.

Would Dad have been aware of what evil resides in Riverdale? Mister Lodge must have been representing Riverdale for a while, because I'm not sure if Aunties have brought up this place before my trial. In fact….I never knew this place had this much activity outside of the high school's athletic rivalry with Baxter. Would my dad have known about the Riverdale Reaper? About the Blossoms leading witch-hunts all over town? About all the dead caused by the Reaper? By Salem? By me….

I go to reach for my neck out of instinct, and only then do I realize I haven't reached for Dad's amulet in a while. Like how V has stopped wearing her pearls when she goes to school. Out of sheer embarrassment, I let my hand drop down to the table, drumming my fingers. I need to stay focused on V and her condition. The depth of its power still puzzles me. If only I had any material from home to expedite research for treatments. If only Jughead and I still had those books that belonged to his grandfather….

My fingers stop drumming. My jaw tightens to the point where it could lock. What if this isn't a case of dark witchcraft, but….but something more sinister all together? Something like….demonology?

No, I'm thinking too extreme. I sound like an online conspiracy theory forum that Jughead probably visits. But it could make sense. Jughead might have some insight from all that time pouring through demonology books and his grandfather's materials. What if V somehow got infected by a demon? Or what if Salem's presence is wearing off on her? She has spent more time with Salem lately, so that could be it! I make a mental note to approach Jughead on the subject when I get back to the trailer park.

V starts to notice the current state of my face. And I notice her staring at my current state of face. Would it be violating her privacy by roping Jughead into her problems? I don't know….but if I want to help V get better, it might be the only choice I have.

I theorize with her out loud, "What if we found a way to help you recover any lost memories?" V raises her brow at me, not catching onto my train of thought. I lean forward, lowering my voice so the rest of the diner won't hear me. "We could use a spell to make your dad tell us about your early childhood. That could help us track your condition down to its origins. And we can learn how to control it. And how to keep…." I have to stop myself before I can say the rest. What's really sitting on my brain. And how to keep Salem from influencing you to finish what he started.

Somehow, V is able to finish my thought, or get a sense of where I'm going. "You still think Salem will turn around and hurt me?"

"I'd never forgive myself if he did, V!" I sigh, lowering my head down to the table. I run my fingers along my half-filled plate of food. My mind still sits on the idea of recruiting Jughead to pull up facts on V's symptoms. My conversation with him from last night replays in my head. Me recovering from my psychopomp attack. Him worrying about Joaquin's safety. Me asking Jughead to kill Salem if all else failed….

A grin forms on my face, slow and calculated. I look up at V. "Which is why I may have asked Jughead for back-up as a worse case scenario."

The intent of my answer was to give V some hope. To show that we can provide safety. But that intent does not translate well to V. At least not at first.

She cocks her head back in confusion, "Why would we need Jughead for…." The reason I brought up Jughead finally hits her, and….let's just say it does not make her happy. V's eyes flare up, dark veins form on her face again. Her voice amplifies when she says, "Wait…..'Brina, did you tell Jughead about me?"

Realizing the mistake I made, I reach for her hands, pressing my stomach into the edge of the table. "I only told him about us being witches, not about your condition!" Some of the people here start to glare at us, wondering why V has grown so upset. I have to diffuse the situation before something happens…..like what happened earlier at school.

"That's why we're doing the article on the Reaper together, V." I speak to her in a calming voice, "With his knowledge on this town, and with my knowledge on the supernatural, I think we found a way to stop Salem from killing more people. And it could help us find a way to help you."

V begins to lose some of the veins, but my explanation has not brought her calm or clarity, yet. She takes a deep breath, then says, "No offense, 'Brina, but since when does Jughead Jones THE THIRD have a right to psychoanalyze my private affairs?" I go to open my mouth, to tell her that no, I would never let Jughead treat V like a frog in biology class ready for dissection. I only want to help her, I would say. Well, I go to say, until V cuts me off, with tears on the brink of shedding.

"Do you think I'm not aware of what people say about me? About Daddy? Everything I do is to make up for whatever rumors Midge, and Ginger, and Tina say about us. I know everyone in Riverdale sees the Lodge Family as some Godfather knock-off mafia family, which we're not! They'll always see me as the spoiled rich girl that publicly cancels her teammates on social media and deals with daddy issues. And now…..after today…..they'll see me as much worse than that.

"I know you mean well from the bottom of your heart, 'Brina. I know you want to help me find a cure. But what if I can never be cured? What if I don't want to be cured? If the citizens of Riverdale want to see me as a monster, so be it. I know what I am. I practically sealed my fate the moment I went up against Midge Klump in that locker room. Maybe I am the reckoning that will eat Riverdale alive."

When she ends her speech, she leans back into the booth, making her fingernails and the insides of her hands kiss. The veins fade away. Dark colored water streams out of her eyes. I can't do anything but just watch as my best friend spirals. I feel ashamed now. I didn't consider what tormented her brain. I know she knew about Midge's comment, I didn't once think she took those rumors to heart. To think that she escaped what would have been said back in New York, following her incident with Nick St. Clair and his family, only to face much worse in a place that was meant to protect her. In a place I thought would protect me too.

And now I have a malicious familiar running loose, three people that I sent to the Dark Lord himself, and a tarnished relationship with Ali.

V sniffles. "Or I will be, sooner rather than later. I'm already a reckoning to my father and his family." Just as she finishes that sentence, the doors chime, followed by a pair of bodies entering the diner. My head tilts to the side, I lean out to see who just walked in. My tense expression softens, a tinge of pain and guilt smack me in the face. It's Ali and V's father, most likely looking for us.

However, V does not see them, nor does she recognize what I'm looking at. She continues, "I can never do anything right with him. And I take it out on him unfairly. And….I think this time, I went too far. What if this afternoon was the last time I would see my father alive, 'Brina?"

Ali and Mister Lodge don't turn to face our direction. They're at the counter conversing with Pop Tate, unaware of our presence. Mister Lodge is walking around, which is a relief. But he looks worn out, and so does Ali. As much as I want to avoid making eye contact with her now, I still want the truth about her past. And I want V to have an opportunity to make amends with her father.

I point a finger over at the adults. "It's not."

Finally, V turns around to see her father upright and holding conversation with another human being. Her emotions turn on full force. She climbs out of the booth and begins to walk over in their direction, stopping just a few feet away.

"Daddy?" her cracking voice rings out. Mister Lodge turns away from Pop Tate to see his daughter. I climb out of the booth just as Ali sees me. She mutters something, my name I'm guessing, but I don't say anything in return. I really have no words for her right now. I only care about what will happen between the Lodges.

V's father leaves the counter, bewildered and heartbroken. But he knows now that his daughter is okay. She's safe and she's with me. He breaks down into tears. "¿Mija?"

"Daddy!" V sprints towards him, he comes to meet her halfway. The Lodges cling to one another in a tearful reunion, her head pressed against the space between his shoulders, his tears falling into her ponytail. It's so loving, I think this is the first time I've seen V truly bond with her father. Whenever I witness their interactions, I only notice slight banter back and forth between them, or cold exchanges. But deep down, Mister Lodge does care for V, and she for him. It's evident now watching them mumbling I'm sorry multiple times in a tight embrace. In a way, I envy their interaction. I want that closeness. I want that care. I want a real family.

I thought I had it here with me in Riverdale. But I can barely look at Ali now, because when I do, I don't see the witch that defended me in front of my aunts. I don't see the friendly face that volunteered herself to be my guardian.

All I see now is a woman with a skeleton hiding in her closet, one she wants to dress up before she presents it to me, begging for forgiveness.

V lifts her head up, fighting back another sob. "I thought I killed you."

Mister Lodge uses his thumb to smooth out the rivers forming under her eyes. He makes an attempt to smile, to sound optimistic for the sake of his daughter. "You didn't. I'm still in your corner, mija. I'm still here."

She sniffles, shaking her head from side to side. "Just…..just don't make us pack up and leave for another town. Don't make me hide from our mistakes again. I'm tired, Daddy. I don't want to run anymore." A few people around the diner begin to send funny looks towards the Lodges. Some continue to give me the evil eye. Mister Lodge cradles her head, kissing her temple before pulling her back in for another hug. I think I hear him mutter, We're not going anywhere.

Ali sneaks over to my side, almost catching me off guard. But I baby step away before she can swarm me. I try to make myself look pleasant, more grateful for her presence. If that's even how I'm supposed to feel right now.

"It's a good thing Mister Lodge turned out okay." I make small talk with her, my throat going dry. I reach back over to my table to grab my drink. I glance down at my cup and take a long sip, hoping Ali will get the hint that I'm not in the mood to talk.

"It wasn't easy." She says, followed with, "Where did you find Veronica?"

Okay, this is a question I can't quite ignore. It's a safety concern. So, I set my drink down and return my full attention to Ali. "Pickens Park. We got here about an hour ago."

Ali nods her head all dazed. She bites the inside of her cheek. Is she going to ask me if I was planning on telling her? I don't want to be chastised right now! Especially not if I'm already in trouble with her over this stupid article! When did Ali become a helicopter parent?

I roll my eyes at her. "I was going to text you after we finished eating. I was planning on walking V back to Pembrooke myself." I look back over at the Lodges, who are now conversing with Pop Tate. V's eyes wander throughout the diner, looking more wounded under her father's wing. Yes, she's safe now, and so is Mister Lodge. It doesn't necessarily mean their relationship is a hundred percent healed. It doesn't mean the scars fade away that quickly.

"Thank you, Sabrina." I hear Ali mumble. I turn my head, just to find Ali looking away from me and over to my plate of food. She brings her hands together and nibbles on her bottom lip. I could tell her to grab a table for herself and Mister Lodge, to leave me and V to finish our dinner in peace. Or I could just tell her to go back to the trailer park and leave me alone. Just until she's ready to tell me the truth.

Or maybe I should just ask her if she would like to sit with me, to finally ask the questions I've had on the back of my brain for the past handful of days about the Reaper, about her past, about Hal Cooper. I could learn why she bleeds the way I do, why she gets sick the same way I do, all of it. I want to get to know Ali again, for who she really is.

Was. Who she really was, before she met me. And who I've become since conjuring Salem out of that house. It might do us both some good to empty out the skeletons from both of our closets.

By the time I go to open my mouth, V and her father return to our area. Mister Lodge brings his gaze to me. "I've already arranged with Pop Tate to put both of your orders under my tab, so don't fret over paying." Then, he looks at Ali, his eyes softening. "I got your order in as well, if that's alright with you."

Ali grins at him in return. "Fine with me."

Mister Lodge removes his arm around V so she can sit down at our table. She looks up at me, as if she wants for me to sit next to her. And to have Ali and Mister Lodge sit across from us. So, I guess we all will be sitting together. Meaning no more reasons to hurt one another. No chance for me to pick through Ali's brain about the Reaper.

"Make yourselves comfortable." I tell the adults, going past Ali and sitting next to V. I reach for my food and eat it in silence.

XXXXXXXX

Our trip back is more painfully awkward than the remainder of dinner. Okay, it's not that awkward, but Ali and I still haven't spoken a word to one another, and we didn't want to take time away from V and Mister Lodge getting their closure. Well, it's a good thing we're not talking right now. I'm worried that the questions lingering in my head will come out like daggers to Ali's heart. I fear of sounding too harsh, when all I am is just desperate for escape, for survival. We can't really, since Ali's up in the front seat with Mister Lodge, and I'm in the back with V, gripping her hand tight. I look out to the world as we make our way back. I can feel Salem's sickening energy reaching out to me. Begging for me to come back, to help him finish what we started. It makes my head go all dizzy, it causes me to go nauseous. I turn my head away from the windows, staring down at my kneecaps. I could care less if Salem wound up back at the trailer park. I could care less if he never came back at all. But at the same time, I do care, because what if he kills again? What if he comes back for Joaquin? For Jughead, or Archie, or Moose, or anyone else I've come to known in these past few weeks?

Mister Lodge pulls into the trailer park. There's only a few porch lights on, some of our Serpent neighbors give dirty looks when the car enters the park. Ali taps on Mister Lodge's shoulder, pointing towards the Joneses' trailer. "I should go relieve Gladys and FP from nursing duties. I'll keep you updated on Joaquin." He drives the car closer to the trailer and puts the car into park. I silently watch as Mister Lodge takes Ali's hand, his expression softening.

"Would you like for me to stay for a while? To help with anything?" Ali goes to breathe deep, then she turns to see V and me in the backseat. She lets out that breath in a huff.

"I'll be alright. I bet Veronica wants to go home and rest." she says, as if she thinks we're not there. V sinks into her seat more, sending me a worried glance. I twist my head back straight and let it bobble against the head rest. Should V stay with me, just in case something happens between her and her father again? Or would going to see Jughead only fuel a higher fire, worse than the one she lit the match to at school?

V grins at Ali. "Don't let us keep you waiting, Miss Smith. Thank you for your hospitality." Ali nods. She reaches her hand up to touch Mister Lodge's shoulder. It stays there for a little while, then she starts to climb out of the car. V turns back to me, and she squeezes my hand. She whispers, "It's alright, 'Brina. I'll be alright."

Mister Lodge exits the vehicle to join Ali outside. I make an opportunity to get one last moment alone with my friend. I take both of her hands into mine. "Could you promise me one thing?" I lower my voice, just in case the adults overhear us. V hesitates as she nods. "If Salem…." I have to stop for a moment. Saying his name feels like poison entering my body. Or a hex. But I have to push through. I continue, "If he comes back to Pembrooke, for whatever reason…."

She looks up to the roof of the car and huffs. "If what you told me is true, 'Brina….I can't guarantee if he'll see Pembrooke as a safe space. I guess he'll know you're after him. Same with Jughead." With the last part, she sends a deadly glare towards the Joneses' trailer. My eyes go to Ali and Mister Lodge outside through the windshield. They have their foreheads pressed togethers, their hands intertwined. He's muttering something to her, if only I could make out what was being said. I could, but I don't really have the energy right now. Nor do I care of their….whatever they have. For all I know, he could be in on Ali's secrets too. Just as much as Jughead's parents are. If they are.

V squeezes my hands, bringing my attention back to her. "I'll keep my eyes and ears open." V reassures me. "But….could you also promise to not let Jughead become so involved in…." Her voice trails off. Her eyes go back to Jughead's home, the dark veins reappearing, to my unease. No, it's not unease, I'm jumping to conclusions. It's more that I fear of her endangering Jughead, or worse…..endangering herself.

"I'll make sure you disclose that information on your own terms." I tell her, sending a grin in her direction. The veins disappear, her expression lightens up. She doesn't keep her eyes on me for long though. She ends up staring out the windshield. Towards Ali and Mister Lodge.

"You think they'll start dating, 'Brina?" she points in their direction. I turn my head that way to find Ali lower Mister Lodge's head downward. She kisses his temple, then she lifts it back up so her forehead can meet his with ease. I wonder if he knows of her demons, and if he could tell me of them. I wonder if they dated back in high school. In fact, I don't think I've seen Ali be with anyone since she met me.

I tell V that their sudden dating wouldn't surprise me. I leave out that despite my current anger towards Ali, I do wish her the best. And if that best is with Mister Lodge….so be it.

V looks down, tapping her fingertips on her kneecaps. The corners of her mouth lift. "I get worried sometimes that my father wants nothing to do with people. He talks to members of the Council, and others….but not in the way talks with your Aunt. They're good together. I wouldn't mind if she stuck around more." She rolls her head to the side, to me. She gives my hand a gentle squeeze. "And that means we'd get more time too. Assuming you can stay here after your trial."

Thought of my trial makes me gloomy. I huff. "Assuming I'm not trapped in Greendale forever." My teeth sink in between the flesh behind my bottom lip. If I am made to go back home, to the life I once had, I won't get the chance to redeem my wrongs with Chuck and Midge. I won't be able to protect Jughead or his family, or Joaquin, from what may come next. I won't get to stop Salem from ensuing mass destruction.

From outside the car, Ali leaves Mister Lodge, heading for the Joneses' trailer. I guess that's my cue to follow in suit. I turn to V one last time, saying, "Sleep well, V. And don't stress. We'll get through it together. All of us." I don't smile when I speak. I don't provide any emotion in my eyes. I don't think she wants my emotion right now, considering what she went through. I let go of V's hand, and I get out of the Lodge's car, bidding Mister Lodge a farewell as I follow Ali's path.

Ali disappears into the trailer, leaving me out here in the cold. I should go in, I want to see Joaquin. But I'm terrified of facing judgement from Jughead's mom and dad. I know they don't mean any harm, Jughead said so himself. But if they react the way Ali did back at school, accusations without explaining her facts….who knows what could come of tonight. I don't want any more blood shed. And I don't want the Joneses to enter into a civil war with one another. Maybe publishing the article is a mistake. It caused Salem to force V's hand. It caused Rose Blossom to die and Joaquin to flee. And it caused my relationship with Ali to crumble. If the same happened to Jughead and his parents, or to V and her father….I would never forgive myself. For now, there is no bad blood between V and Mister Lodge. I know this as I watch their family car drive out of the trailer park. As for the Joneses, it's something I will have to bring up to Jughead when I next see him.

Good thing I don't have to wait long to have that conversation. Because as I return my attention to the Jones Family home, Jughead walks out the front door, wandering down the steps with something in his hand. His hands, plural.

"You left your bag at school. You're lucky no one got ahold of it and tampered with anything." he says, holding out my bookbag to me. Oh. I never realized I left that behind. I quickly thank him and take the bag from him. I let it slouch to the ground as I glance past him, towards the front door.

"How's Joaquin?"

"Surprisingly well, considering what he went through to get here." Jughead glances back at the door himself. Does he want Joaquin to come out and join us? To get away from the adults? Well, there's no sign of him at the door. Does he know I'm here? I guess, but he might be busy getting further interrogated by Ali. I huff, bringing our conversation to another hot topic.

"What about everyone at school?"

He clamps his mouth shut for a moment, just to glance down at the floor. His hands go to his hips before he can look back up at me. "The Vixens that fell are currently either in the hospital or with family, the other members have to quarantine. As for the rest of the student body…." He pauses to take a sharp inhale, "You and Veronica should prepare to mark "Relive the Salem Witch Trials" off your bingo cards."

My heart sinks to my stomach. Of course, everyone still wants to see me and V as the villains. The thought makes my food want to come back up. Am I ready to face the wrath once I return to school? Hey, if I could stand up to the Church of Night on my birthday, I think I can handle a few high school bullies. And a town pulling out their pitchforks and cameras.

My fingertips run across my palm. I frown at Jughead. "I'm sorry if this jeopardized our chances of publishing the article. I know you worked so hard on it-"

"We both did." he clarifies. "And no, you didn't. The whole town's on heightened alert, and it doesn't help we have two powerful figures in Riverdale stepping down. They're looking for a quick fix. Something….someone to throw the blame on."

I scoff, pressing my lips tight together. "Just seems unfair, that's all."

"You've got no idea, kid." A new voice catches my attention, coming from the doorway to the trailer. I'm taken aback by seeing Joaquin emerge in….well, not hospital clothes. I don't know how he's managing to stay warm with just one of Jughead's jackets on over his dark shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His teeth chatter when he hurries down the steps to join us. He pats Jughead on the shoulder before addressing me directly. "Good to hear you weren't infected with a seizure."

My ears tear up when he says that. He's trying to sound supportive of me, but I'm not the one who ran for my life from a demonic entity. My voice wobbles when I tell Joaquin, "I'm glad you're alright. And alive."

His nose crinkles. "To be honest, I don't know how it was that I ended up surviving. I should have been there to help her…." His voice drops for a brief moment as he stares down at the ground. He hasn't even said her name, but I know he's referring to Rose Blossom. He looks back up at me, "Everything happened so quick. I needed time to get back to her, but this freak, he….he struck so fast, everyone at the Sisters was running for their lives. So, I put the others first. I left her behind, and I took care of who I saw first. Still doesn't make me a hero…."

He stops to swipe a tear away from his cheek. I don't understand, he saved lives! What other reason could he be seen as a villain? For running away? For telling the adults about our article? I still can't come up with a clear answer, not until Jughead shoots me a look. One that says, Why else do you think he's so afraid? Why do you think he came here?

It hits me, hard. "They think you killed Rose Blossom."

Joaquin steps away from Jughead, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. He winces, "I don't know why anyone thought to come to that place and raise hell. Look, I know I had my struggles there….but…..but, I'm not a killer! I never wanted to kill Rose!" He glances back and forth between me and Jughead. "And I didn't mean to get you into trouble with your folks. I didn't want to squeal on you two. Your Aunt…." he points to me, "She was asking if anyone had seen Rose before she died, or if I knew of anyone that was set out to hurt her. I couldn't think of anyone for the latter, but I knew you two were her last visitors. That's why I told them about your article." He drags the sides of his thumbs across his cheeks, clearing away any forming tears.

Hearing his explanation, I realize that no matter what Jughead and I would have done, Ali and Jughead's parents would learn of the article. Of what dangers Jughead and I got into. Maybe it was a bad idea for us to journey over to the Sisters of Quiet Mercy. Maybe Rose Blossom would still be alive, and Salem wouldn't have brought chaos to that place. But I don't blame Joaquin for what he did. I don't blame him for anything he did to simply stay alive. To fight for his freedom. The way I did, and still do.

I may not have a chance to choose my own fate, but Joaquin does. And it helps that I happen to know the identity of Rose Blossom's murderer.

So, I say, "I believe you, Joaquin." This puts a stop to his panic attack. He straightens his back and glances down at me with wounded eyes. I have to be careful with my words when I tell him, "I think I know….I think whoever killed Rose was inspired by the recent deaths here. The killer must have made a connection, and….they'll do what they can to hide in the shadows until all the pieces are in place. Until there's no more blood to spill."

Joaquin looks up to the sky, then brings his sights back down to us. He scoffs with a sorrow smirk. "You know, kid? Shakespeare was right. These violent delights have violent ends. We're all just pawns in this freak's game."

"So….what now?" Jughead asks. "Will you stay here with the Serpents and lay low? Or are you gonna go back…."

"Who's gonna take care of Ricky?" Joaquin jumps in unexpectedly. Ricky? Is that Joaquin's boyfriend? Another Serpent? His….oh. Oh. Joaquin sniffles, "Someone's gotta look after my little brother, 'cause my parents certainly aren't. I just want to keep him safe. I want to keep everyone safe. Even Toni…."

He places a hand on the back of his head, glancing around nervously. However, my mind remains on the last name he just muttered. Toni? Wait, that was the girl Jughead asked about. Is she here? Would she have met Ali? The questions loom in my head, my anticipation building. I look up at the windows to the side of the trailer, hoping to find any life source radiating from inside. Or a voice to explain why Ali and the Joneses are taking so long, or why they haven't come out.

Jughead places a hand on Joaquin's shoulder, a reassuring gesture. "Hey, you know my parents are gonna step in and help no matter what, right? They'll make sure no one hurts Ricky."

"I know that, Jones." Joaquin sniffles. "But I still feel like I'm letting him down. Like I've let everyone down, including your folks. I don't want the whole planet to jump in and fix my problems. I don't want anyone else to decide my future for me. I….I just….." He squeezes his eyes shut, unsure of how to keep going without breaking down. He forces himself to breathe in, then out, over and over just enough to calm himself down.

Moments pass before Joaquin opens back up his eyes. "If those assholes from the Sisters, or anyone sympathizing with Rose Blossom….if they wanna hunt me down and send me to the electric chair, they'll be in it for the long run. Because I won't go down without a fight. I want them all to know that they couldn't wreck me or accuse me of lying. If I die, I want to die knowing I did the right thing. That I'm innocent. That I'm still me." He looks back and forth between us again, taking a bit of time to contemplate his next sentence. I'm still contemplating whether it would be wise to stay here at the trailer park tonight, or if I should go back into town, to Pembrooke where I know I'm in good company. I'm wondering if it's worth hunting down Salem and ending my connection to him once and for all. I'm wondering if Jughead and I should go on with this article, assuming Ali and Jughead's parents, or even Joaquin, won't rip into us about it. I don't know why I think Joaquin would, he hasn't brought it up expect to apologize for unintentionally throwing us under the bus. Perhaps he did it to keep Jughead and me safe. Maybe he assumed we already told the adults of our plans. Whatever the reason was, I think he's just as petrified about us publishing the article as Ali, as Mister and Mrs. Jones….

Which is why I'm stunned when he says, "That's why I think you two should go ahead and publish the damn thing."

Jughead dons the same level of shock on his face as I do. It's not as eye-opening, but it still conveys the same message. For me, it's an eye-opener, because UNHOLY HECK JOAQUIN IS GIVING US HIS BLESSING? HOW? WHEN….

"You read the article?" I finally ask, breaking our prolonged silence.

Joaquin nods his head, so does Jughead. "He read it when I came home from school. So did my parents. And my sister. And…." He tilts his head towards the front door. "I think your Aunt's reading through it now. Who knows what sort of criticism we'll both get. But if your Aunt and my parents are that serious about wanting to clean ourselves of the bad blood…." His voice trails out, indicating that I should know the rest.

And I do. "The article will leave them no other choice but to tell us everything they know." Excitement over washes me. I smile so big I could give the Cheshire Cat a run for his money. This could be good for me, and for Jughead and Joaquin! The article will not only force Salem out of hiding, but maybe it will help Joaquin avoid facing a death sentence, and….it might finally lead me and Jughead to learn about Hal Cooper.

It's so exciting, it feels so unreal. I feel like I'm being punked. So, I clarify with Joaquin, "Are you sure? I mean, aren't you worried it will throw you into further trouble with the police?"

My question practically makes him chuckle. "Sabrina….getting that article out into the open will be what saves my life. All I ask is that you don't leave me as "Anonymous". Get my name on that final publication." His crying stops, he's able to stand up with more confidence. Joaquin lets out another exhale, feeling the weight lift off of his shoulders. "I left Rose behind. I won't let her legacy go to waste. So, you got my full support on telling the tale of the Reaper. Let's just hope it exposes Rose's killer once and for all." My emotions go high that one moment I see Joaquin so happy again, more sure of himself. But it falls again, halfway through his speech. What he said echoes the words I heard earlier today. Ones that preceded the hatred lashed out at me and V.

We will bring Midge justice….I won't let her legacy be tarnished. You have no place in our community anymore.

My heart nearly stops. My arms go numb. Laughter rings in my ear drums. Something comes out of one nostril, I go to dab it. From the little light coming out of the Joneses' trailer, I can make out the red hue sitting on my fingertip. That's odd. Salem is nowhere near me to cause a nose bleed. Why is this happening to me? How?

Jughead comes over to my side, snapping me out of my thoughts. He mutters so Joaquin won't hear, "We can get it put up on the Blue and Gold's website tonight if you want. That way it's ready to go in print by the end of the week. Think you're ready, Teenage Witch?" I blink at him, not saying a word. Can he tell I just had a nose bleed? Can Joaquin? I don't have time to sit on my behind and wail about my own problems. Joaquin's life is in our hands. So is V's life, and anyone Salem could go after next. Besides, Hal Cooper's story is waiting to unfold right in front of me….

I look back at Joaquin, grinning at me. I look out to the woods beyond the trailer park, wondering if Salem is mocking me, waiting for me to make the wrong move. I want to find him, I do. But is it worth risking another life? Is it worth facing more hell at school than what I will face when I get home?

No. I've already committed to going down this path. I committed to helping Jughead find the truth. My personal fight with Salem can wait.

I turn back to Jughead, quickly wiping the blood away from my nostril. Then, I lift my chin up to the sky. "Alright. Let's get it up and going."

XXXXXXXX

SABRINA WE HAVE TO KEEP GOING COME ON

My feet fly in the air running through this forest so late at night. I don't know how I wound up here. I don't remember running towards anything, away from anyone. The last recent memory I can recall is standing over Jughead's shoulder as he clicked PUBLISH to upload our article onto the Blue and Gold's website. We had to do it while Ali and the Joneses were distracted, we had to do it while Joaquin stood by on guard for us. The boys were relieved when the website displayed the successful completion of our upload. They were practically ready to go down to Pop's and celebrate with a milkshake. Yet, I still felt guilty. Something about the Reaper, about Rose Blossom, and Hal Cooper still felt so wrong. Like I unleashed the monsters in Pandora's box when I should have left it alone.

Now, here I am running deeper into the woods, following a disembodied voice getting farther and farther away. Why does the voice sound familiar? Is it Jughead? Joaquin? Moose? Archie? HARVEY?

SABRINA

The top of my foot makes contact with a tree root in the ground. I stumble, almost landing on my face, but I'm able to recover. My heartbeat accelerates, my breathing becomes unsteady. Who are we hunting? Who is hunting us?

"I'M HERE!" I cry, hoping I can bring the source of this voice into my view. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

Crows caw above me in the sky, hundreds from the looks of it. Their behaviors reminds me so eerily of those psychopomps I faced from when I did the Astral Projection spell. I look up to find these birds swarming the air. They form what looks to be a spiral shape. I could laugh – it's stereotypical of any horror movie to have birds come together in a shape representing cult-like, or demonic, behavior.

But this is not a horror movie. This is real life, and for reasons I do not know, I'm in danger.

Footsteps come from behind me, charging faster. It forces me to pick up the adrenaline and run in the opposite direction of it. I would want to turn around to see who is making that noise, but I'm too scared to look back. Who is it? A witch from Greendale coming to collect me on behalf of the Dark Lord? The risen corpse of Chuck, Midge, or Rose Blossom? V? SALEM?

SABRINA

I don't want to know what led me here, why I can't get out of this. My path begins to narrow, leaving me with little to no options. I can either risk my chances of continuing down my path, or I can fall behind and get attacked by whoever is chasing me.

Or I can fight back, giving this creep all the magic I can. So that's what I do. I get myself to safety behind a tree, away from the view of my chaser. I find another looming tree to my side, it could be enough to block its path. It could crush him, leaving me to roam these woods in peace. I concentrate on the wind blowing through the branches, the roots embedded into the ground below. The wind howls. The roots cower back, leaving the ground unsteady. With all my might, I use my magic to send the tree down.

The thump sends me back a few feet, but I still wind up standing. The wood of the bark splinters off to the sides, into the air. A groan comes out of the body underneath the tree, followed by a name. My name.

"Sabrina…."

My heart stops. This has to be a trick. My head has to be playing games with me. But it's not. The voice I hear coming from its trapped place below the tree is one I know. One that would do anything to protect his children, his wife, and Ali.

"MISTER JONES!"

I run for the fallen tree. I spy Jughead's father wincing in pain. I'm able to use telekinesis to get the heavy wood off of him, allowing it to roll down into the emptiness of the woods. I take a long look at Mister Jones….something's off about him. His skin is discolored. His veins are more present on his face and neck than usual. His pattern of breathing is changing. Why was he following me out into the woods? And where is Jughead and the rest of the family?

He coughs, "Sabrina….where's my boy?"

The infliction in his voice doesn't sound like the father I've heard caring for his two children. It's only masked to be that way. And the nature of his appearance is starting to creep me out. What exactly happened to Mister Jones before I sent that tree down on him? Why can't I remember why I was running away?

I bend down to get a better look at him, to see why my gut feeling is telling me to run as far away as possible. His eyes are still shut, his demeanor comes off so innocent. I don't trust it. I can't.

"I don't know where he is." I tell him, "Is Jughead in trouble?"

The last question causes Mister Jones to act in a way I haven't seen when his kids face danger. He laughs. I want to stumble backwards, to not trust anything coming out of his mouth. But I need to know why I'm afraid. Why he's….

The eyes snap open. I'm greeted with the same set of eyes that took over Midge.

HE'S ABOUT TO BE IN TROUBLE, WITH YOU LEADING HIM TO HIS DEATH SENTENCE.

My back straightens. My feet lead me backwards, away from the fallen tree debris, away from…. No, I thought I was already taunted by him. His possession was the reason Salem went after Midge in the first place. But now he's back.

The Dark Lord is back, and he's taken over Mister Jones.

He makes the body rise up from the ground. He keeps Mister Jones's eyes trained on me, and only me. He makes Mister Jones give me an eerie smile.

STILL REGRET NOT FOLLOWING DOWN MY PATH, GIRL? I THOUGHT YOU WOULD HAVE LEARNED YOUR LESSON BY NOW, CONSIDERING WHAT I TOLD YOU THE LAST TIME WE CHATTED.

I feel my anxiety increasing. Horrible memories come to my head, leaving me helpless. And abandoned.

"Leave Mister Jones and his family alone!" I yell at the creature in front of me. "They have nothing to do with this!"

But he doesn't listen. He makes Mister Jones step forward, crushing the earth beneath him. DON'T YOU SEE? YOU HAVE BROUGHT THEM INTO THIS. YOU THROW YOURSELF INTO THIS PATHETIC LITTLE TOWN'S PROBLEMS BECAUSE YOU WOULD RATHER NOT FACE YOUR OWN. YOU CHOOSE NOT TO FACE ME.

The words sting, much more so than what he told me during Midge's possession. Is that really why I've avoided going home for so long? Am I really running from my own fate? From the Dark Lord himself? My head is spinning, the world feels so dreamlike…..no, more like a nightmare. He's right – maybe I am choosing to not face my destiny deliberately to buy myself more time. But I have committed to my life here in Riverdale. I committed myself to helping Jughead and V, and Joaquin, and anyone else who could fall prey to Salem. I have to fix what I have done here before I can even think about going back home.

I make myself stand up taller, curling my hands into fists, lifting my chin up to the sky. I may be a sixteen-year-old half-witch, but I am not going to cower from monster. From Satan himself.

"You want me to come back to Greendale and get torn apart in a court to entertain you? Sorry, Satan, but you're going to have to wait in line before you can get your hands on me." My words make his smile disappear, his confident stance through Mister Jones more defeated. I keep my spirits high, the way I did on my birthday. "I won't come home until I finish what I started here. And if that makes the Spellman name tarnished by the eyes of you and the rest of the Church, so be it! I have to do better! Riverdale must do better!"

My echo carries across the wind blowing through the branches, through the wings of the crows above us, through each snowflake falling to the ground. For this one moment, the world goes silent. The voices in my head finally go silent. I can breathe.

Then it all comes in again.

Using Mister Jones, the Dark Lord snarls, taking one step towards me, then another. FOOLISH, AND STUBBORN. JUST THE WAY YOUR FATHER PREDICTED YOU WOULD BE. All my confidence goes out the window. The way my father….what does that mean? How would of Dad discussed my present behaviors with the Dark Lord? Is that why his ghost, and Mom's, came to me on my birthday? Would he have known I'd be in trouble if I stayed? If I ran? I don't have time to figure out my options, because the Dark Lord is getting closer and closer to me. RIVERDALE HAS NO FUTURE, SABRINA. AND FRANKLY, THE WORK YOU'VE DONE IN THIS PLACE WILL BRING THOSE MORTAL SOULS TO ME FASTER THAN EVER. THE WAY YOU DID TO THOSE KIDS YOU CALLED YOUR FRIENDS.

My heart sinks. He doesn't have to say their names, but I know who he's referring to. Chuck and Midge don't deserve to have their souls burning in hell. They never deserved for Salem to be their executioner. But I was the judge and the jury. I led them to Salem, and eventually to the Dark Lord. All because I wanted my friends to be happy. All because I wanted to be happy.

These violent delights have violent ends. The words from Shakespeare come into my head, reminding me of the wrongs I caused. The people, and the monsters, I have angered. The stories of Riverdale I have yet to unfold. The life of Hal Cooper. The legacy of the Reaper. Ali's backstory….

Ali. Where is she? Why can't she make him stop? Oh, I should have followed her advice! I did mess up by letting Jughead publish that article, because now his father is being possessed by the one entity that wants my soul over everything else.

Come to think about it, why does he want me so desperately? What about my rebellion angered the Dark Lord to the point of throwing me into an ongoing lawsuit that may never occur if I die in Riverdale? None of it makes sense. Neither does what he said about my father's views of me. There has to be a reason the Dark Lord possessed Midge, and why he's in Mister Jones.

"That's not going to convince me to sign my name in the Book, and you know it!" I yell back at him. "What is it about me wanting both freedom and power that scares you so much? What does my father's opinions from years ago suddenly have to do with my current life choices?" My blood boils. My veins pulse. I'm freezing out here, and I don't want to lose my chances of finding the disembodied voice calling me to safety. I have one shot left at defending myself. So, I fire away, "WHY ARE YOU PUTTING ME ON TRIAL IF YOU KNOW I'LL NEVER JOIN YOU?"

The Dark Lord makes Mister Jones's head bow, his stance staggering a little. A low registered chuckle comes out of the body. It grows into a full-bellied laugh, so sinister it can make my ears bleed. The wind screeches, sounding like the screams of all that died at my hands and his. My brain feels like it will melt. My eyeballs can pop out of my head at any moment. I want it to stop! Just as I'm about to beg for mercy, for relief, the Dark Lord lifts his head. Mister Jones's teeth transform into daggers. The Dark Lord has turned his eyes so red I can barely make out the white in them. In that moment, I know I have lost.

He says, YOU WANT ANSWERS, GIRL? GO ASK YOUR AUNT.

There it is again. The same notion Hal Cooper wanted me to follow.

Ask your Aunt…..

Wait, which aunt is the Dark Lord referring to now? Auntie Z? Hilda? ALI? Whoever, whichever…. I can't wrap my head around it so easily. What elements of my trial do my aunts know about that hasn't been shared with me? What are they hiding? WHAT DOES ALI KNOW?

My thought train comes to a screeching halt by the sound of a bullet whizzing through the air. The next thing I know, the Dark Lord screeches in pain. He uses Mister Jones to fall down to his knees, clutching his upper arm. I look for the source of the bullet, the reason the Dark Lord has stopped taunting me with family.

I'm stunned to find the body that matched the voice just moments ago, wielding the family rifle in his hands. "JUGHEAD?"

He rushes down to my side, keeping the rifle aimed at the Dark Lord, in his father. "It's alright, Sabrina." he says, out of breath, "I'm doing what I promised."

Doing what he promised? What could that…..

It hits me. He means killing Salem if V and I couldn't make it. Ending the misery in this town once and for all.

Anxiety runs through me. No – I only wanted him to end Salem's life as a last resort, not while I'm still alive! And not with the Dark Lord possessing his own father!

I have to reason with him before it's too late. The Dark Lord howls, I attempt to pull Jughead away. "No, don't kill him! It's your father, Jughead!" I know it's technically not, but I'm doing what I can to de-escalate the situation here. I don't want Jughead to wash the blood of Mister Jones off his hands. I don't want to be the reason the Jones Family falls apart.

My attempt to persuade Jughead to walk away fails. He shakes his head while glaring at the evil inside his father. "No….no, he's far gone. There's no getting my dad back."

I finally notice the cut on his lip. The line of blood over his eyebrow. What happened back at the trailer park? Why can I not remember?

The resident inside of Mister Jones looks up at Jughead. The voice coming out belongs to the man we know, but the eyes belong to someone else. Something I no longer want to associate with. "Jughead, boy…." he says, making direct eye contact with Jughead while lifting a finger up at me, "You know me. I'd never lay a hand on her. I'm not your grandfather, boy-"

"SHUT UP!" Jughead charges down at the inhabitant, readying the rifle for a more deadly shot. This is the opposite of what I wanted!

"WAIT – JUGHEAD!" I follow down after him, gripping my nails into the top of his shoulder. He whips his head back to me, his eyes glaring in anger. My heart could tumble out of my mouth, I feel nauseous. My free hand starts shaking to the point where it could go numb from the cold. My soul feels as if it's disintegrating. And the longer I stand out here with the Dark Lord just feet away from me, the more my life crumbles to pieces.

I need to know what the Dark Lord meant by my father's comments. I need to know the details of my destiny in the Path of Night.

For one last time, I plead, "Don't do this, Jughead. If you kill him….I have no shot at winning my trial. I get no choice in my future." I make myself go quiet before I can add on, If I even still have a future while I'm here in Riverdale….

The Dark Lord contorts Mister Jones's lips to form a frown. He makes the older Jones begin to cry. He's attempting to pull Jughead's leg, to make us both more vulnerable.

In the most authentic version of Mister Jones's voice, he says, "You heard the girl, Jug. Don't kill me. Like me or not, I'm still your father. You're still my boy. My only son."

Jughead grows somber. His lips tremble. His eyes wet. The sadness doesn't last long, it turns into fear. Rage. Disbelief. He lifts the rifle, aiming it at Mister Jones's head.

CLICK-CLICK

"I'm not your son, anymore."

"JUGHEAD, NO!"

The gunshot rings in my eardrums as I jolt upward in the bed. I struggle to breathe, I grip the bedsheets for dear life. I finally become aware of my surroundings in the early light of dawn. It was a dream, just a very horrible dream. Mister Jones did not get possessed, Jughead didn't shoot his father.

But the Dark Lord still came for me. He still taunted me with secrets my family may be hiding from me. What Ali is still hiding from me.

I look to my side, hoping Ali will be there to comfort me, to hold me in her arms and lull me back to sleep. But her side of the bed is empty. The sheets are neatly folded, showing not one crease. The alarm clock on the her side table drawer reads 7:03 AM.

The first of my waking instincts lead me to peel the sheets, caked with my sweat, off me. My feet land hard on the floor as I practically stumble out of bed. I hurry over to the bedroom door, opening it up to reveal more sunlight pouring into the kitchen window above me. I use a hand to block its powerful presence, my eyes still haven't adjusted to the morning light yet. My heartbeat elevates in the worst ways. I don't know where Ali is, I don't know how I couldn't remember falling asleep. I just want to see a familiar face. I want answers. More than anything, I just want to be okay.

My eyes follow over to the refrigerator, spying a small message left pinned under a magnet. I reach for it, tearing it out from the small magnet stuck on the fridge. I blink down at it a couple of times, making sense of the words in front of me. A message from Ali.

Left for my shift at Pop's. Let's arrange time to have our talk tonight. I love you so much. - Ali

Anger. Mistrust. Fear. Abandonment. Guilt. All of these emotions hit me reading Ali's little note. My senses go overboard, I can't control the magic running through me. I crumble the note in my hands and toss the wad of paper down on the floor. My eyes can't stay dry, my brain is ready to explode, I can't breathe. I'm about to tumble down to the floor, crumbled up next to that paper wad. My chest rises and falls, my face flushes suddenly. I brace myself against the chair next to me, leaning on it for massive support. The air feels stuffy. I have to get out of this trailer before I have a breakdown.

But what about my dream? Why did Jughead kill his father in my dream? What did the Dark Lord mean about my father? Which Aunt is lying to me?

I turn on my heels and sprint back into the bedroom. My hands pull open drawer after drawer, digging through all my clothes. Where did I put it? Where did Dad's amulet go? Everything I try to do to make myself calm down fails. My patience wears thin. I slam my fist onto the wardrobe, screaming at my reflection. My ears pop. The flesh on my face trembles. I'm spiraling and I can't stop.

Eventually, my voice gives out, leaving my throat dry and hoarse. I cry harder, feeling more hopeless than before. My hand goes to the bottom of the drawer, my fingers come into contact with a piece of string. A jewel. I curl my fingers around the object and pull it up. How did Dad's amulet get lost in here? I thought I had it in my backpack, or somewhere on top of the counter space! But I haven't done a good job of keeping myself organized, have I?

I slip the necklace on, letting the amulet sit over my lungs as I choke back tears. The air is still stuffy, and I can't regulate my body temperature. Would fresh air help? My feet shuffle when I leave the bedroom, out through the kitchen, outside. My hand remains glued to the jewel, my fingertips running across the grooved edges. My vision becomes distorted coming out of the trailer. The cold air hits my face, but it doesn't snap me awake at the slightest. The stairs are slick from the wetness, I'm lucky I don't take a nasty tumble stepping down and breaking any of my bones. Yet, I still land on my knees on the last step. The contact doesn't leave me in pain, but I still feel like a mess. Like I deserved this.

I want to cry, but no more tears are coming out. In fact, I feel more exhausted than disappointed, than fearful and angry. My heartbeat still rises to an uncontrollable rate. I have to sit on the bottom step to catch my breath, which I can't do all that well. I keep my hand at my heart, clutching Dad's amulet, gasping for air, trying to keep what I have left of my sanity together.

Maybe the Dark Lord was right. I have put Riverdale into trouble all because I wanted to run away from my own troubles. Salem may have played the role of executioner, but I was the judge and jury. I led them all to die.

V is not the reckoning. I am.

This sudden realization brings a new wave of tears, ones I thought I could hold back. But it all comes out at once. I kept my retrieval of Salem and my roles in Chuck and Midge's deaths a secret from the town. From Ali. And now, I'm turning around and blaming others, I'm blaming Ali for causing me to make those choices. I can't accept my own faults, so I would rather fix the faults of others. I hate myself for acting this way. I hate myself for not acting like a grownup and bringing up these issues properly to Ali. Now, we may not get the chance at all to have our long needed conversation if I am called back to Greendale. If Salem causes Riverdale to implode on itself. If I die, or if she dies….

I bury my head into the insides of my elbows, letting my fingernails dig into my scalp. I let the sound of my crying overpower the rest of my senses. Well….not all of them. I hear someone coming over to me, their footsteps crunching into the snow. I can't make out the shape of the person, nor the exact features. I can only see a pair of combat boots nearby my set of feet. I hear the voice of this stranger speak to me.

"Hey…." this person, a girl I think, catches my attention. "Hey, are you alright, kid? You took a pretty nasty tumble." My fingernails release their grip from my head, I stare down at my hands numbly. They curl into baby fists, my fingers stiffening. My eyes feel swollen, dried out. The newcomer kneels down in front of me, she rests her hands on my forearms.

"Take deep breaths for me, okay?" she reassures me in a soothing tone. I'm too tired to fight back, so I follow her instructions, breathing in and out the way Ali taught me. The daisies and candles thing. I do this a few times through, allowing myself the chance to regain a sense of calm. When I do, I lift my head back up. I finally take in the features of the person in front of me.

The woman with pink hair I saw at Midge's funeral – it's her! When did she see me? How did she…. She must live on the Southside too, that has to make sense, right? But how could she have known I would slip on the stairwell? And….and why do I feel like I know her somehow?

Jughead and Joaquin mentioned a friend numerous times. A girl around Joaquin's age that runs an oddities shop on the Southside. She was allegedly in the trailer with the Joneses and Ali last night. From what I keep hearing, she sounds like…..she sounds an awful lot like me.

The pieces finally fit together in my head. The pink haired woman, noticing my prolonged silence, asks me, "What? What is it?"

A smile forms on my face, weak but still visible. "You're Toni."

XXXXXXXX

TONI

I never made it out to Nancy's meeting. I got so caught up worrying over Joaquin and the Joneses, I lost track of time. I let Nancy down. I let Fangs down. I let myself down.

But I don't regret doing what I could to keep my friend safe. Shit – I hadn't seen Joaquin in months. He just got away from a demonic serial killer, and now he's being framed as said serial killer. That had to take some priority. It doesn't guarantee that Joaquin will have the trailer park as a sanctuary for long though, no matter how much the Serpents want to provide their services. No….some Serpents, not all of them. The Joneses spent most of the night on the phone with the more higher-up Serpents, vouching to find Joaquin a hide-out, whether with Alice or somewhere on the Southside. From what I could overhear, most of the gang is ready to turn Joaquin in, loyalty or not. They don't want the Serpents to fall into anymore trouble with the law than we already are. But what's sad about this whole mess is that Joaquin's been part of this gang as long as I have, and now the found family he joined is turning their backs on him.

I'm frustrated for him, and I'm frustrated for myself. It only further reinforces why I'm becoming more active in my fight for the Uktena. If I still have a chance to advocate for the Uktena. I may have just blown my shot by not going to Nancy's meeting. I never got a chance to text her about my absence. I never met up with Fangs so we could go over together. I just left him hanging. I was so winded from looking after Joaquin and trying to keep the Joneses level-headed that when I got home, I crashed out. Well, I crashed out after having a massive breakdown on my bedroom floor.

Which leads me to my current state. I'm in a daze driving back to the trailer park. Every inch of me wants to say Screw everyone in the Serpents, take Joaquin and Fangs, and leave town. But reason tells me to hold on, to stay a little while longer. Just until the Uktena reclaim what is rightfully theirs. What is mine. I need to keep my cool before even attempting to conduct business as usual in the shop today. That means I have to stay away from my phone, despite all the messages, emails, and calls that keep coming through. I don't know who sent them and what time they came in, but the overload is stressing me out. It's better if I can get myself to work then examine the messages, otherwise I'll lose it again.

I hop out of my car and go around to the passenger's side to grab the set of bedsheets and food and water I packed for Joaquin. Just something new for him that isn't leftover scraps, or just leftover anything. In a way, he's like my brother. He, Fangs, and Sweets were brothers to me. They stook by my side when kids at school got testy, they let me couch surf with them when my uncle kicked me out and left town. They're my family, and right now, my family needs support. The Uktena fight is important, yes, but I won't let that stop me from protecting my family. Even if I do get myself burned out….

I'm about to grab the stuff out when I hear someone slip on the ice nearby. My head raises out of instinct, I'm looking for the source of the noise. From the opposite side of the Joneses' trailer, a teenage girl crumbles onto the steps, weeping. I've seen her before…. Wait, the blonde from the funeral. Alice has mentioned her a few times in brief passing. Joaquin mentioned her yesterday….Sabrina, I think he said. I thought I saw her drop by last night in the trailer, but it might have been only to see Jughead, I can't quite remember. But this girl looks so bent out of shape. So exhausted. There has to be a reason she slipped other than to pure clumsiness.

I make my way over to the girl. I try to call out for her, but she doesn't quite hear me. I bend down to her level, having her go through some breathing exercises to calm her back down. She does, and in a matter of moments, she's able to not look so teary-eyed. She takes a long time looking at me. Does she think she's seen me before? I know she spotted me at the funeral. I've seen her with Jughead, but does she know I watched her movements? That I've seen the evils she may be experiencing?

A lot could be going through her head right now, yet she doesn't look distressed from any of it. Which is why I ask, "What? What is it?"

I'm greeted with a weak smile from the girl. I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing. My nerves begin to peak, it will need a lot to level myself out again. So, when she says, "You're Toni." I take a sigh of relief. Granted, it's a little odd of a response. Her saying my name could mean a lot of things….

She still has her eyes on me as she follows up with, "You run that oddities shop in town, right? Jughead and Joaquin mentioned something about that." My nerves finally die down. Okay, so she's not asking out of cruelty, but out of curiosity. Because of Jughead and Joaquin.

I end up smiling myself. I nod my head at the girl. "Your mom's been down there a couple times now. She actually covered for me yesterday, so…." The girl tilts her head at me in confusion. Hold on…..Alice isn't related to this girl? Or is Alice just not her mother? I stand up, gesturing to her with my hands for clarification. "Alice. Yeah….your, um…."

"My Aunt?" she fills in the blanks. I stand there with my mouth gaping. Oh. So, Alice is her aunt? That makes sense. While the girl does share features, it's only a coincidence. Not because of immediate blood relations. I close my lips together and nod at her. The little smile she has fades. Not because of anything upsetting, but more due to her coming to…..terms with something.

She looks up at me, more intently. "You're the witch she went to go see, aren't you?" My chin lifts up a little. I have to keep my eyebrow from doing the same. What did Alice tell this girl? Does she of the….of the séance? The girl stands up, practically matching my exact height. She clarifies, "To get her leg treated?"

The racing of my heart mellows out. I let my shoulders level back down, exhaling that breath of relief. Well, that's good to hear. It doesn't guarantee that she'll learn more from Alice later, but for now, the girl's safe. And I hope Jughead is as well.

I make up a quick response for the girl, "Yeah, some….herbal remedies. And ointment." My hands slide into the pockets of my woolen lined jean jacket. I would have worn my Serpent jacket today, but it's too damn cold, and frankly….I'd rather not affiliate with the Serpents a hundred percent at this time. With all this talk about Alice, I start to wonder if she's nearby, or if for whatever reason, she accidentally locked the girl out. I lean my head to the side, peering up the steps to the front door. I don't feel any other auras inside. "Is Alice here?"

"What?" The girl throws back at me, still in a daze. Once she realizes what I'm asking, she comes back to life. "Oh! Um….no. No, she….left for work. She won't return until later, I guess." Then, she goes quiet. She reaches for a piece of jewelry over her heart. A family necklace, I suppose, it looks like she has some attachment to it. She runs her fingers across the jewel's grooves, waiting for its comfort to kick in. It reminds me of how I used to act, holding on to a mementos Granddad left behind if something troubled me. Is something troubling her now? I don't want to creep into this girl's head, but I don't want to frighten the girl if I ask her to share her troubles with me. So, I decide to just take a quick glance, sensing the thoughts running through that little brain. She's worried about the Joneses from what I gather. More importantly, she's worried about the relationship between Mister Jones and his son….

I give up after a minute or two, afraid that if I continue on, I may not like what enters my own brain. I take my hands out of my pockets and huff. "Okay, well….when you do see her next, let her know that she can stop by my place if she needs a refill on anything I gave her." I begin to walk away, leaving the girl by the base of the steps.

The girl calls back to me, "Oh, I'm sorry! I…." I turn back on my heels to face the girl. What could she be apologizing for? She looks more frazzled when she follows up with, "I don't want to delay you from getting to work or anything?"

She's so innocent, I could laugh. In fact, I do….a little bit. I gesture back to my car, "You're not. I was….I was just gonna drop off some things for Joaquin."

"I could help!" she jumps in, startling me a bit with her burst of enthusiasm. After reading my vibe, she takes it down a notch. "If you want…."

"Fine with me." I shrug my shoulders at her, sending her a warm grin. Come to think of it, maybe having the girl bring up the supplies could take some weight off my shoulders. It could allow me to take my mind off the whirlwind that was yesterday. Even if it's only for a little while.

I allow the girl to follow me over to my vehicle. I start by handing her the case of water bottles. I wait to see if she can maintain a good grip before I sling the bag of clothes over one shoulder. I take the bag of food into a free hand, then I motion for the girl to follow me. We're able to get up the steps in a timely manner. I set the bag of food down and knock on the front door. There's no response quite yet, maybe the family's still asleep. The girl comes to join my side, struggling to keep the plastic casing from slipping from her hands, or breaking.

While we wait, I take more time to peer into her mind. Her panic over the Joneses' relationship has me curious. Jughead and his dad seemed to be on good terms last night. They never really displayed any animosity between them, even when Mister Jones was in recovery for his alcoholism. Why this sudden tremble?

I see flashing images flowing through her head. Harsh voices coming to me as whispers. Jughead aiming a gun. Mister Jones….looking possessed. Dead.

My ears begin to ring. I find it difficult to breathe all the sudden. My head spins, my brain goes back to days ago. Mister Jones having his body act as the host for Louis Cooper. Him recounting the details of the Reaper possessing him. Louis going after Alice, wrapping his hands around her neck. The way he spoke to her about us. About me.

You don't need them. Especially her.

The front door opens, throwing me out of place. I almost jump at the sight of Mister Jones on the other side of the door. His skin looks normal and healthy, his eyes show no signs of death. But the images in my head, the ones making him look so dead, begin to implant themselves onto him. I can't tell the dead Mister Jones from the living one.

"Morning." the older Jones mumbles, rubbing his eyes. He glances down at the supplies in our hands. "Is that for Joaquin?" My throat sticks together, my tongue feeling weighed down like I swallowed quicksand. My heart pounds in my eardrums. I can't get myself to calm down.

Luckily, the girl answers on behalf of us. "It was Toni's idea! She….she brought stuff over." Her perky little voice comes to a stop, giving Mister Jones a wide grin. She lifts up her knee to balance out the water bottle case in her hands. She struggles with it for a little bit longer, causing Mister Jones to offer to take it. She hands it over with some ease, thanking him in the process.

The girl peers in through the doorway, past Mister Jones. "Is Jughead awake?"

A light turns on inside the trailer. I guess the family is starting to wake up now. The kids probably need to get ready for school, and maybe Joaquin….

"He's getting up right now." Mister Jones replies. He sets the water bottle case down off to the side. He points back to the inside of the trailer with his thumb. "Did you wanna come have breakfast with us? Unless you were planning to do something with…."

The girl shakes her head. "Ali left for work already. I mean, I…." she pauses to look back over at me. Does she think I'm going to give her an answer? I shrug my shoulders, still unable to form any type of sentence. I still can't fully look Mister Jones in the eye. Not with these images of a dead man haunting me.

Mister Jones extends his hand out. "Why don't you? We don't mind the company." The panic over the girl's face disappears. The wide grin comes back in full force. She mutters a quick Okay, then she turns back to me.

"I'm going to check on Joaquin, okay?" My mouth still feels pinned together. My nerves build up. All I can manage to do is give the girl a thumb's up. It seems to pass, the girl looks in good spirits. She rushes into the trailer, picking up conversation with whoever is inside.

The bag begins to slip off my shoulders. It's now just me and Mister Jones, but I feel like someone else is here. Someone is watching us. Waiting to attack again. Waiting to knock me down when I think I'm safest.

Mister Jones speaks to me, "You wanna stay for breakfast too?" I blink up at him, trying my hardest to shove the images of dead him out of my head. I have to remember the life standing in front of me. The colorful aura building a shape in my head.

I clear my throat. "I don't want to….I don't want to hold you guys up on anything." I don't know why my voice has gotten so timid. I'm usually never this afraid talking to any of the Jones Family. I know Mister Jones is not a violent person – his father was, but not him. Why is this view changing? Is this because of what happened during the séance? Or is it the memories I extracted from that girl's head? The images of Mister Jones possessed by something much worse than Louis Cooper, and Jughead, ready to kill at any command….

She must have seen those events through second sight. Or maybe she had a premonition for the future. That's why she must be fighting to keep a closer eye on Jughead and Mister Jones. Have the spirits failed to warn me of what is yet to come? Will the Reaper go after the Jones Family for the article Jughead wrote? Will he take over Mister Jones, body and soul, as punishment? And will that mean Jughead will…..will have to….

Is Jughead going to mistake his father for the Riverdale Reaper and kill him?

The little amount of food I had from the day before threatens to come back up my throat. The voices roaming my brain tell me to get out. To run. To place whatever protection spell I can on the Joneses, on anyone affiliated with them. But no matter what spells I perform, whatever guardian spirits I conjure, the truth may still come to light, the way it may have for Alice's niece.

Somehow, through the Reaper's pulling of the strings, Mister Jones will die at the hands of his son.

A chill breeze graces the air. It rattles my bones. It amplifies the voices in my head. It makes me want to drop everything and run. Mister Jones notices my stance, my silence. He steps over to me, concerned. "You alright, Toni? You look like you've seen a ghost." My lips tremble at the older man. My heart could spew up out of my mouth. My inner voice tempts me to almost say out loud, No, the only ghost I see here is you.

I have to make up a response, quick. I force the lump down my throat and shake my head. My breath forms a cloud in the cold weather. Despite me putting a smile on my face, completely forced, Mister Jones doesn't buy it. He must be catching onto my panic. "You think that creep is still in me?"

He doesn't say his name, but any thought of Louis Cooper still sends a shiver down my spine. No, it drags a knife down my back, slicing me open for the world to witness and letting my blood wet the earth. I don't sense any roaming spirit inside of Mister Jones. I would have an alarming aura floating otherwise. But that doesn't guarantee Mister Jones is no longer suffering from the aftermath. It wouldn't prevent him from any outside forces wanting him to engage in the same violent tendencies. Especially towards the people he loves the most….

"No, he's gone." I finally speak up. I let the bag of clothes slide off my shoulder, letting the strap end up in my hand. I bring it up so Mister Jones can take ahold of it, which he does. "Just let know if you are still having any…." I end up stopping my sentence there. I don't want to list out the symptoms, I'm worried of what ideas could fester in that brain….

Mister Jones nods. "I will. Gladys has been keeping a good eye on me. And Alice….she, she did a quick scan last night. All seems good." He lifts the corners of his mouth, I guess to reassure me of his well-being. I do take his word for it, I know he and Gladys are genuine people. Probably the more genuine pair of Serpents I know.

But being genuine and kind cannot save you from an underlying evil.

The potentials of the future leave me on edge. Looking at Mister Jones heightens my anxiety, my helplessness. If I can't bring back the Uktena and protect them from the Reaper, how can I protect the Joneses in the same fashion?

I begin to step away, back towards the staircase. I reach for my car keys in my pocket. I fight to preserve a positive attitude, just for a little bit longer. "I should get going. Keep me updated on Joaquin, will you?" Mister Jones doesn't know what to say. He's not offended, but I can tell he's getting worried about me. He just nods his head, then he goes to grab the bags I left on the ground. He bids me a farewell and returns back into the trailer.

I hurry back over to my car. More people in the park begin to come out of their trailers, watching me as I fumble with my keys. The warmth of my car comforts me as I turn on the ignition. Tears threaten to spill out of my eyes when I pull out of the trailer park. I make myself just wait….wait until I get closer to the shop, wait until I know people are around to watch this performance, wait until I don't have the Joneses or Alice around to ask if I am okay.

The ignition goes off. Everything is silent. Then, every little emotion I bottled up comes out at once. I slam my hand into the steering wheel and scream. I hate feeling this powerless. I put others before me so many times, only to have it backfire on me. I pour so much energy into a failing world, that I don't have enough left to pour into myself. Into my own wants and desires. Into my own happiness.

Maybe that's why Granddad gave up on the Utkena long ago. He probably knew that no matter how much time he invested into his crowd, they would never change for him. They would never get better for themselves. He knew the Serpents were a lost cause. And now with the Reaper hunting again in full force, it was probably better to walk away than to die abandoned on the battlefield.

What am I even doing thinking my sudden shift in focus will work? I never decided to get active until now, until after the Reaper made his grand reappearance. I only acted on my own desires after talking with Alice. Will the Uktena even survive the Reaper's wrath? Will I survive? I don't know, and frankly, I don't want to know my future. I want to breathe. To know that I will be okay despite all the negative factors impacting my existence. I want to just be okay.

I let myself stay in my car for a while longer, just so I can get the worst of my breakdown out of the way. Once I'm at a calmer state, not so blubbery and hoarse from wailing, I get out of my car and make my way over to the front door of my shop.

Someone's waiting for me by the front. I can't quite make out the figure from this far away. I don't want them to see me like this, I hate getting vulnerable around others. Besides, I'm no where even close to being ready for the work day. I call out to the person, "I'm sorry, you're gonna have to come back in a little bit. Shop doesn't open until…." I finally get closer to the potential customer waiting for me. I stop in my tracks. I blink a few times. My sadness is traded for confusion. For surprise.

"Nancy?"

"Toni," Nancy pushes herself away from the outer walls of my shop. She strides over to me, looking both relief and perplexed at my presence. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I just wanted to…. Hey, what's wrong?"

My emotions begin to fall off my sleeve again. Just when I thought I was getting nervous about holding a conversation with my new friend, I'm now petrified to be breaking down and crying in front of her. What's worse is that I'm afraid to actually let her in on what's really troubling me.

I make an attempt to wipe away tears with the outsides of my thumbs. "Nothing, I'm fine." I lie, feeling a tinge of pain in my heart. "Just been a rough few hours, that's all." Of course, I'm embarrassed to tell Nancy the truth. I missed her meeting to care for one of my high school friends. I may have predicted the fatal ending to Mister Jones's life. I feel like a failure to not only my grandfather, but to the Uktena as a whole. Summarizing the laundry list of terrors in my head sends me into another fit of crying. I hate it. I bury my face into my hands and hope that this morning was all just a bad dream. That the past 16 to 20 hours have not occurred.

When I free my face from its hiding spot, I'm shocked to find Nancy closing the gap between us, wrapping me into a warming hug. I'm stunned – she's comforting me? A stranger she just met? Another speaker for a common cause? The gesture feels so foreign, but my body eventually gives in. I cling to Nancy and just sob into her shoulder. She whispers that it'll be okay, that I don't have to hide anything from her if I don't want to. The kindness of this gesture brings me some ease. For the first time since I've been more vocal, more willing to put my life first, I don't have an urge to belittle myself. To apologize for speaking out or for comparing the handling of my outbursts to others. For once, that part of my brain goes silent. It's pleasant. And it's with a friend.

Nancy pulls away slightly so she can wipe away some of my tears. "Fangs told something came up that you had to attend to. I just wanted to check up and make sure you were alright. Plus, I didn't know if any of my texts or phone calls were going through." The corners of my mouth lift. All those messages I kept getting last night. They were from Nancy? Wow, I….I don't even know what to say. I had no clue she thought so highly of me to the point where she got worried. And the fact Fangs kept her in the loop….it's kind of relieving. And comforting for some reason. Either way….I feel recognized. I don't feel alone anymore.

"They did," I tell her about the messages, "I just never got around to checking them. I got so distracted with…." I end up having to pause. Honestly, I do trust Nancy, and I know she's proven herself to be a loyal member of the Serpents. But would it still be safe to tell her about what happened to Joaquin? Would she side with the rest of the gang and not allow him sanctuary on the Southside? Fangs certainly wouldn't. I just hope Nancy wouldn't either.

Which is why I just go for it. "Joaquin Desantos came back into town. But not for reasons you'd expect."

Nancy slowly nods her head. "Wasn't he working at that nursing home outside of town? Everyone keeps talking about an older woman getting murdered out there…." My tongue ties up inside my mouth. Of course – the Sisters Massacre made local news, and probably statewide for all I care. Now everyone will think Joaquin had a hand in Rose Blossom's death. The feeling of helplessness rises again. I manage to give Nancy a slight nod, not feeling energized to elaborate on the subject.

She sighs, "Well, I guess it's a good thing you kept an eye on him yesterday, because that's all everyone wanted to talk about at the meeting. You really didn't end up missing much." She ends her sentence with a grin. That's odd…. Joaquin's recent escape from death shouldn't have been the only topic of conversation for an activist group….

My curiosity spikes. "So….how did your meeting go with McCoy?" Nancy rolls her eyes at me, and to my surprise, she laughs.

"It never happened." My eyes widen at her. She never got to see the mayor? Was she able to reschedule? Was it permanently cancelled? I'm about to ask these questions when Nancy explains to me, "Apparently, I wasn't the only person in Riverdale needing a morning appointment with the Mayor. Town hall was jam packed by the time I arrived, and when it finally came time for me to speak with her, she had other matters to attend to."

"Wow." I comment, feeling my spirits lift. I figured McCoy would be busy with her last week and all, but not that busy to delay meeting with a representative from a Southside group. Either she's that behind on work, or….

I ask her if she knew. Nancy says, "I don't know. Something about a bunch of cheerleaders at the high school having random seizures. She had to arrange quarantine and…." Nancy continues to go on, but my ability to listen ceases.

Girls falling down. More people dying. I'd seen it happen, the spirits showed me this would happen. And I didn't take it for granted. Now, the Joneses might go into a civil war, and that girl living with Alice….I still don't know how she would get tied up into all of this, but….

Wait. Something else is bound to happen. A young witch using unusually dark magic to kill, with a cat by her side. Does the cat belong to that girl? Is she the one bound to snap?

Is this really the beginning of the end for Riverdale?

"Hey, are you alright, Toni?" Nancy snaps me out of my thoughts. I didn't realize how quiet I'd gotten, how overanalytical I've become of an unknown doom.

I try to pass off my strange behavior, "Yeah, I….sorry, I haven't eaten anything yet today. Haven't really….had anything since yesterday afternoon." Following that, my stomach growls. I don't remember having any food before I crashed out last night. I think I only had a small snack while at the Joneses, since I never stayed to do the food truck with Fangs. Normally on a work day, I would just wait until around noon before I'd eat anything, I'd stick to black coffee in the mornings. But after all of this running around and my anxiety flaring up again, I may need the fuel.

Nancy smirks, which….I don't quite know how to interpret. She points back to somewhere, her truck I guess, with her thumb. "I was gonna say…..I was able to rearrange my meeting with Mayor McCoy for this morning, a little after 9:30. And I was about to head over to Pop's for breakfast if you…."

It takes me a bit to recognize what she's saying, but when I finally do…. OH. Is she asking me to join her? Does she want me at that meeting with Mayor McCoy? WITH HER? It's bold, considering that she just met me yesterday! I've barely made a dent in my own activist work! But she sees a spark in me. She's willing to extend that olive branch for me.

But my shop. I know it'll practically fall apart financially if I don't commit to this place, day in and day out. That's practically all I warned Alice about when she covered for me. Will going with Nancy jeopardize that? I glance back up at my shop, my little family heirloom. The shelves need dusting. I probably need to readjust the A/C so I'm not freezing my ass off later on in the day. All of these tasks matter…. But does it need to be a priority now? Will I ever get another chance with Nancy and the mayor if I say no?

Nancy picks up on my contemplation, "If you need to stay….to tend to your shop, that's alright! There's absolutely no pressure for you to come with me. I….I figured it might be nice for you to…." Her voice trails off. She doesn't want to push anything onto me, which I respect. But the longer I keep looking at my shop, the longer I weigh out my options….the more I realize this is an opportunity I will miss. If I'm going to become part of a death order at the hands of the Reaper, I want to start living now. I want to do more for myself now.

Besides, I think the shop could last a few hours in the morning without me.

I turn back to Nancy and smile. "You know what? That actually does sound nice."

XXXXXXXX

End of Chapter Six