34 TFB: A Wounded Universe
"The Universe, she's wounded/She's still got infinity ahead of her/She's still got you and me"
-Gregory Alan Isakov, song "The Universe"
4:30 pm, Recovery Scene, April 6th, 2046, Kitchen, Vera Manor, Seattle, Washington
After ensuring all fire minions were successfully vanquished (they were), and that the Portender was completely sealed within the English toffee tin (he was), Mel unsealed the living room as everyone poured into the kitchen, making way for Macy, Wyatt, and Harry who carried a limp Abigael, laying her body on the floor.
"Heal her, Harry!" screamed Macy, who continued to kneel at Abigael's side.
"Macy, love," he said with tears in his eyes. "She's already gone."
5 pm, Two Days Later, Abigael's Funeral, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington
Morgana presided over the funeral, a small-but-sublimely elegant affair befitting Abigael to a tea. Maggie had used glamour powder to create gigantic clustered pillars of silver, plum, and black begonias, gardenias, and azaleas surrounding the casket, which Mel knew her late wife would have adored if only she had been alive to see it.
Harry and Macy's arms were around their grown children Maya, Henry, and Matilda, all of whom emerged largely unscathed by the Portender's clutches; Mel clutched her daughter Tory's hand, as they silently sobbed, tears pouring forth from their cheeks. Matilda glanced over at her raven-haired adoptive cousin, discovered decades ago (before Matilda had even been born) when she'd made a precocious appearance at Central Park before being taken in by Aunt Abi and Aunt Mel.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Morgana's voice continued as she presided over the memorial service, as she performed the typical traditional magical rites ushering a being into the next realm. Given Aunt Abi had pulled a Severus Snape, what would become of her? Matilda couldn't help but wonder. Would her soul enter Tartarus due to her earlier treachery, having attacked her mom Macy upon first meeting her? Would she join the other nefarious forces in the underworld, doomed to a life in the dank-yet-fiery caverns steeped in the screams of human torment? Heaven couldn't have been a viable option, as Abigael's soul was far too tainted…
Matilda glanced over at the opposite aisle, where Wyatt sat with his father Wy and his grandparents Piper and Leo. The next row from that aisle had Phoebe and Paige, all of whom bore a reverential, solemn expression for the occasion and who had, at least during the funeral, put their differences aside to unite once more. Wyatt's eyes met hers and instead of turning away and blushing furiously, she smiled slightly—an enigmatic, Mona Lisa poignant, exhausted smile with her eyes, after which they turned back to Morgana, who had completed the rites, causing Abigael's casketed body to vanish from sight.
5:30 pm, Abigael's Funeral, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington
Macy walked to the crystal quartz podium to present the eulogy; the task would have gone to Mel, but being distraught, she was unable to summon forth the effort—which was now Macy's and Macy's alone to bear. She smoothed her ebony floral-printed dress as she looked out at the flowery blossoms and visages before her.
"When I first met Abigael, she tried to kill me—" she began, causing a distinct hum of laughter across the garden enclave. "Hand-held sword, if my memory serves me correctly. I thought she was delusional when she said we had things in common. Out of her gourd, even." She paused to survey the funeral attendees. "But she was right."
Macy took a breath to steady her shaking voice. "We had a lot more in common than met the eye. We were both raised by single parents, disciplinarians, who had ways of showing us they loved us, often in challenging ways we could never begin to understand. We were thrust into our powers, her by birth, mine by transfusion, that caused a great deal of complications—as well as empowerment—when used responsibly or irresponsibly alike. Her unconventional tactics, one of which involved egging on her wife, Mel, to take a Kyon Queen potion, led to us freeing creatures imprisoned against her will. You remember that, right?" she directed her question to Mel, who lifted her head, uttering a small laugh beneath her tears.
Macy continued on. "In hindsight, with her powers, if she really wanted to, Abigael could've killed us all. The typical Charmed Ones storyline involves vanquishing anything evil or evil-originating." She and Piper's eyes met as the latter made a barely perceptible nod. "But her early words were, 'you need my help' if I recall. To be raised with a destructive worldview and have the inner wisdom to depart from that, takes courage that most people grossly underestimate."
"Even though we never exactly saw eye-to-eye, I think, deep down, we both wanted the same thing—an end to bloodshed, an end to constant warring battles between humans and magical creatures alike—a balance of yin and yang. Even though I didn't realize it at the time. My judgment was…clouded." Macy recalled the moment she walked in on Abigael kissing Harry long before she herself, Macy, began dating him.
"I never really trusted her," Macy stated matter-of-factly. "And she would be the first to tell you she thought we three were too soft and innocent for this world. Maybe the truth lay somewhere in between. Things changed after my oldest, Maya, turned three and I was ordered bedrest by Morgana, due to being heavily pregnant with twins. Maya was just coming into her hybrid Whitelighter powers and with Harry taking care of me and various vanquishings, I worried what would become of her."
"Abigael was pulled into my bedroom by Mel and Harry, and I was so upset that she of all people would be entrusted with tutoring my child, I started a literal hailstorm outside. A hailstorm!" Macy exclaimed, peering above the podium. "Can you imagine?" After a few moments, she commenced speaking once more. "Melanija chronicled this in her AO3 "Of Ginger & Spice," and sometimes, after a long weekend of potions and combat practice, I reread those sections and mentally kick myself. What was I thinking?" She saw Melanija toss her blue highlighted hair from where she was seated at the piano, blushing shyly at having been mentioned directly.
"Anyways. I'm reminded of an Emma Thompson quote. "When you need me, but do not want me then I must stay. But when you want me but no longer need me, I have to go." Truer words were never spoken. Farewell, my comrade-in-arms—" Macy stepped down from the podium and returned to her seat, as Melanija commenced an improvisational piano piece based on Everclear's "I Will Buy You a Garden," the tune familiar to Mel and Tory, as Abigael had always loved to hum it under her breath every weekend when it was her turn to bake breakfast—usually crumpets, with marmalade. "I will buy you a new life…/I will buy you a garden/Where your flowers can bloom…" the melody rose in complexity with a richness and sacred fervor, then changed octaves and became transposed into another harmony completely.
7 pm, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington
It seemed that nearly as soon as it had begun, it quickly ended. The rows of seating shifted, thanks to Harry, Wyatt, and Jordan's quick work, into a series of small three-person tables as hors-d'oeuvres, courtesy of Piper, were passed out and nibbled on. Small plated dishes of butterflied chicken and black bean empanadas were at each table setting, coupled with sautéed mushrooms, Yorkshire pudding (doughy baked bread typically drenched with gravy), and a tureen of gravy, family-style.
"Have you thought about my question?" Matilda was about to cut into her chicken when she heard a familiar voice. Wyatt, she realized as she turned around to face him, seated at her table. Maya discreetly muttered something about helping Henry clean a saucepan and departed, for which Matilda was grateful.
"Being?" Matilda wanted him to say the words out loud, and yet it seemed too soon.
"Something about…oh, I dunno. A proposal?" Wyatt inquired with an alluring raise of his eyebrow.
"Not so loud!" Matilda hissed as she grabbed Wyatt's arm as he orbed themselves inside one of Vera Manor Garden's cavernous begonia bushes. "Besides," she continued after taking another breath, "don't proposals involve a ring or something?"
Wyatt paused. "Yeah," he kissed Matilda's forehead as he swept away a few untamed strands of her crimson curls. "They do. I might take care of that—sooner rather than later—" he murmured, half to himself.
"See that you do, Mr. Halliwell," Matilda strode toward the mouth of the entrance as she peered over her shoulder at his form, ensconced in the darkness. "See that you do."
7:30 pm, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington
"I wouldn't drink that if I were you—" Morgana began, laying a wrinkled arm on Maggie's shoulder as the latter held a shot glass full of coquito, the coconut alcohol-infused drink her sisters were so fond of, and which seemed particularly appropriate for the occasion. Maggie's brow furrowed in confusion as she stared at the glass, at Jordan from where he was standing with Leo and Wy, then back at Morgana. "Trust me on this one." Maggie slowly put the glass down and walked away, turning to look at Morgana from a distance, who winked at her.
7:40 pm, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington
"So, how was the Azores?" Harry couldn't help but ask a rather suntanned Leo.
"50% beautiful, 48% boring, with 2% sheer terror, but y'know, that's basically life in general…don't tell Piper I said that though," responded Leo.
"Beautiful, as in scenery?" Jordan interjected as Leo nodded.
"Absolutely gorgeous—the palm trees, Faial Market, the fresh fruit, the works—" Leo noted. "The boring part was mainly staying sequestered in Matias' apartment with Morgana as they bickered about their century-old divorce, then played endless rounds of gin rummy and crazy eights."
"And the 2% sheer terror?" Harry frowned. "Was that—"
"The fire minions? Yeah…one of them, at least—it astral-projected itself, solidified, and tried to attack Morgana. Thought she'd be an easy target and all. Luckily, she had her wits about her and smashed its head with a frying pan and used enough of her own fire power to send him running back to his master."
"Good God," breathed Harry, trying to spot Morgana, who had already vanished with Matias through the she-shed portal back to the Azores. "Was she alright?"
"Once I healed her, she was," Leo answered. "But best not to think about it—"
"Agreed."
9 pm, Vera Manor Garden, Seattle, Washington
As the crowd of Charmed Ones and their families dispersed for the evening, orbing home, Maggie and Phoebe accosted Matilda, who sat and stared up at the trellised tealights, contemplating the conversation between herself and Wyatt earlier, the Portender, and the demise of her Aunt Abigael. "How're you holding up, sweetie?" Maggie was the first to ask.
"I dunno, everything's happened so fast—" she paused and stared at her lap, blinking away tears. "I just wish Aunt Abi were alive. I feel like its all my fault—I know it's not, but—"
"The Portender did this, not you—" Maggie laid both of her hands on her niece's shoulders to help remove what little mental anguish she could, to calm the young woman down. It appeared to be working as Matilda's breathing grew less frenetic. "You saved so many lives and you were far braver than I ever could have been by myself. And you brought two sets of Charmed Ones together, whether you realize it or not. That's huge. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Maggie's eyes met Matilda's emerald own as the latter nodded and wiped away another tear.
Maggie then smiled, having detected something of a different nature in her niece's disposition. "What's this about needing a dress?"
"Um—" Matilda wasn't ready to tell Maggie about Wyatt's…proposition for lack of a better term. "Wyatt and I might go dancing. Here, in Vera Manor Garden. Sometime. But I don't have anything to wear—"
Phoebe interjected. "Every Cinderella needs a fairy godmother. Let us be yours," her large, expressive eyes entreated Matilda.
"Okay," whispered Matilda, as the three began scheming and dreaming once more.