A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Here's another chapter for you, in case you didn't know what to do with yourselves today. Thank you for reading and comments are as always much appreciated.
"Why are you in such a rush?"
Cordelia watched as Fiona hurried to get herself ready for something, which she had deliberately avoided elaborating. It wasn't only her rush that raised Cordelia's suspicion, but sweat on her forehead and the look in her eyes. Her mother may not be fearless the way Misty was, but it was close. This look had a hint of fright.
A thought occurred to her, one that nearly made her laugh: "Don't tell me you have a date?"
Fiona finally stopped. She had on both her heels, but the coat lingered in her hands as she shot Cordelia an annoyed glance.
"And why would that be so horrible now? I thought you wanted me out of the house?"
"Sure", Cordelia offered. "I just can't picture it. Did you threaten to poison him, if he didn't show up?"
Fiona scoffed. "Clever. Now leave me alone, will you?"
Cordelia sighed and left the hallway. She went to the living room and sat down as the door slammed. Of course Fiona had a date. What else would she be doing on a Saturday night? Cordelia wasn't blind to the fact that her mother knew how to work her sassy charm on men. She had practiced that in court too, when she couldn't win on facts, Cordelia knew. Another skill of her mother's, which she had failed to inherit.
She pushed it aside. She had many things to worry about, she didn't need her mother to add more to the burden than she already did. Instead she thought of what the doctor had told her yesterday, tried to wrap her head around it. He had seen signs that her condition was getting better. Her cervix was becoming less unfriendly, as he put it. His treatment plan might actually be working. She couldn't help notice the look of astonishment in his eyes, like he couldn't quite believe the results. It made Cordelia think his numbers were some kind of machine error.
"There's still a lot of work to do though", he reminded her. He didn't want her to get her hopes up. He didn't know her well enough to realize that Cordelia had no such habit.
She hadn't told Hank yet. She hadn't even had a chance to tell Misty, which she felt like she had to do first. She felt like perhaps she had something to do with it. Misty was a healer after all. Cordelia didn't know just how Misty's gift worked, but sometimes it felt like she could do anything.
Except fix your head, a callous voice reminded her. Yes, except that.
She went to the window, looked out at the darkening sky and wondered if anything ever could.
Steps on the stairs kept her from taking another ride on this train of thoughts. Hank entered the room.
"Is it true? Did she leave?" Cordelia couldn't help but smile at his hopeful voice.
"Yes, she left. I think she may have a date."
"Fiona? Huh, wouldn't have guessed." He came up behind her. She could feel his breath against her ear. "I don't care though, because you know what? We have the house to ourselves."
Cordelia chuckled and turned her head to look at him. There was a smirk on his face. "It sounds like you plan to take advantage of it."
"Well…" He said, walking around her, so he could face her. His body blocked the dark of the window and filled her entire view. "There are things I don't feel comfortable doing when she's here."
He drew a hand around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. After four years of marriage, the spark might burn less bright, but it hadn't vanished. And she wouldn't deny the feeling of home and safety that kissing Hank brought out in her. She folded her hands around his neck and coaxed him a little closer.
When he let go, the smile on his face was contagious.
"Hm, I didn't realize you were afraid to kiss me when Fiona's here", she teased. She loved how easy it was to make him feel something. How eager he was to give back and wow visible it was in his entire body. He had always been obvious about these things, always made it clear how much he liked her. Even in the beginning, when she did nothing but tell him that he shouldn't waste his time on her. He never gave up, no matter how distant she became, how dark her thoughts turned. No matter how dull her emotions were or how deep she cut into her own flesh. Others would have run at first sight, but Hank was still here. Terrified or not.
"No…" He said with another smirk. "It's the next step that's the problem. But looks like I'll be thanking some random guy for keeping your mother busy tonight."
"I'm sure she'll write his number down for you", Cordelia said. The answer didn't come in words, but in a kiss, much more forceful than the first. He backed her up against the wall of the large window frame as he went that step further. Cordelia sunk into it at first, but a small sting started growing in her chest and it became increasingly hard to ignore. She never used to notice how rough Hank's skin was. How crude his movements were. His stubbles. He didn't have Misty's delicate touch, her attention to detail and suddenly it felt all wrong. Suddenly it didn't feel like they had been doing this for almost six years in all, suddenly Hank was the intruder.
She broke the kiss and looked out the window into the empty darkness.
"What's wrong, babe?" He sounded cautious. He was used to her mood swings – as much as can be – but it didn't keep him from breaking out in full alert every time she pulled something like this.
Cordelia didn't answer, but fought her inner battle in silence. This was her husband, who she had vowed to love. Whom she did love. She did nothing wrong by letting it show. And he deserved better from her than this constant confusion.
"Look, Cordelia, if you're not up for it, we can just-"
"No." She forced herself to look at him. His eyes sought hers as she did. He looked crestfallen, on the verge of giving up already. Had it really come to this? It wasn't right. "I'm here. I'm up for it." She thought back to their early days, recalled that jolt of electricity she had felt, whenever he looked at her as he did just before. With that in mind she drew out a real smile and pulled him close again. She poured the recycled feeling of all those early moments into it and she tried to take control, the way Misty had taught her. And she tried to keep Misty out of her head while doing it. As breaths grew labored and skin became exposed it started to work and by the time she pulled him towards the couch – Hank was ecstatic over this new style of hers – her feelings felt real again. For a moment, she was consumed.
The joy, however, like many others in her life, was brief. They had barely laid down to rest, their skin damp and their breaths returning to normal, before cruel thoughts started seeping into her skull like a cold wind. She felt wrong. She felt dirty. Right in this moment, she felt unfaithful, because it didn't feel like she was cheating on Hank. Misty wasn't a mistress. She was a lost part of Cordelia's soul, a kindred spirit back for unison. She was Cordelia's very core. On the contrary, it felt like she cheated on Misty with her husband. No matter how good his rough skin felt against hers. And as he lay there on top of her, his warm breath crawling over her chest, she started to acknowledge the mess she was in.
O0O
Misty didn't know the first thing about relationships. She had never been in one that hadn't involved Cordelia, whether it was one of pseudo-siblings, friends or lovers. It all came back to her. Misty had no definitions to work with, nothing. She could only treat it as she did everything else: Go with her gut and try to guess what was supposed to fill the blank spaces.
It wasn't just a physical need their relationship built on. Far from. Some days they spent in silence and complete immobility, lying on Misty's bed or on the grass outside, Cordelia's head resting on Misty's stomach. Occasionally Misty would hum a tune of Fleetwood Mac, but mostly she just lay there, watching the ceiling or the sky while playing with Cordelia's hair, as she had done as a child. This was all she knew. This was how she made herself feel whole.
The waiting was one of the blank spaces. Her time alone had ceased to hold any meaning. And usually the waiting was just until the afternoon came, but lately there would be whole days of it. More days on a string of dull beads. She spent her days looking at her ceiling alone and her shack felt empty. The sky not as blue.
So, she decided, she would have to share. If she couldn't stand being away from Cordelia for that long and she couldn't have her to herself, she would have to meet the husband. She could play the friend, if Cordelia wanted her to. Even though that wasn't what it felt like anymore.
She still knew this route by heart. Even after she left the forest, her feet continued on, as if the road was imprinted into her muscles. She couldn't count the number of times she and Cordelia had walked this road as children. It was, however, the first time she walked it as an adult.
It was dark already. It had taken her all day to build up the nerve to go visit the Goode Mansion. She had almost talked herself out of it a couple of times, but after consulting Nick, she knew she had to go through with it. He reminded her that they were outsiders and they wouldn't be heard unless they did something to make themselves noticed.
Misty wondered what Hank would look like. What was Cordelia's taste in men? This was something she hadn't thought about since she was a teenager and she caught Cordelia staring at couples with longing in her beautiful eyes. Hank had called them weird too, her eyes. It was as if the entire world tried to make her feel like an alien. But Misty was an alien too. They belonged in that sense.
She couldn't put a face to this husband of Cordelia's. The only faces she had to paint from was the men at the bars she had worked at. All rough faces and beards. Cordelia wouldn't want something like that. Would she?
Misty figured she would find out soon enough. The house came into view. It was large after all, three levels if you counted the attic. Enough rooms to house a handful of guests. Fiona hadn't been cheap when she bought it. Misty remembered how Cordelia had said she always felt so small in that house. Now they were only two people in there. It was big enough to swallow them both.
When Misty reached the isle, she stopped. Should she knock? It felt weird. On the other hand, she didn't just want to barge in. Right now, she didn't want to go in at all.
Instead, she decided she would go look at the greenhouse. That had felt like the closest thing to home back then, perhaps apart from Cordelia's bedroom. The dark space underneath her bed had always been soothing to Misty. She walked carefully around the house. She peeked in through the windows as she did.
Movement inside made her stop and back into the shadows. The living room, which she just now passed, was vaguely lit and a body in there moved towards the window, unaware of her presence. Misty suddenly felt like an intruder. Cordelia came into view, walked close to the window. Misty's heart surged. She felt trapped. She hadn't been prepared to feel like this, it was all backwards. She kept back in the shadows and even though she knew Cordelia couldn't see her, she wanted her to. She wanted this feeling to go away again. It felt like sensing danger.
Cordelia appeared to be talking and Hank showed up behind her. At least Misty figured it must be Hank. She couldn't quite see him, only make out the shape of his presence as they talked with words Misty couldn't hear, laughed at things Misty couldn't understand. He walked around her then and into the view of the window. He did have a small beard and he did bear a slight resemblance to some of the people Misty had seen in bars. He didn't notice her either, but stood with his side turned to the window, almost blocking it and facing Cordelia. They stood close, while they talked and Misty wanted to run away. Her heart pounded the wrong way. It was foolish of her to have done this, she knew it now, but she was trapped. Now she prayed they wouldn't see her.
They didn't see a thing. Hank drew closer and he scooped a hand around Cordelia's waist. She smiled at him and it was a real smile, Misty could see that. Not one of those she wore to keep people at bay. He pulled her close and they kissed.
Misty didn't want to see anymore, but her eyes wouldn't close. Her body didn't feel like her own. She watched Cordelia's hands move around his neck as she sometimes did with Misty too.
It felt like some dark, despicable presence had closed its cold hand around her heart and clutched it so tight every beat hurt. She couldn't breathe right. She could only watch the nightmare happen right before her, only see her kissing him back.
They let go of each other and Misty had a weird feeling that for a moment time stood still for her. They said something to each other. Hank looked like a puppet on a string and there was a seductive quality to Cordelia's movements. Misty hadn't seen her act that way before. She was different with him.
The vacuum of time imploded as Hank leaned forward and kissed Cordelia again, harder than before. He pushed her against the wall and Misty felt like the agony was about to burst through her throat. She saw Cordelia grasping at his clothes. The cold hand pushed Misty's heart upwards and the anguish finally made her feet move. She backed away, as slowly as she could bear, out of the shadows of their garden, but they saw nothing. That notion only hurt more. When she reached the street, she ran.
She ran until the forest engulfed her. Only then did she slow to a defeated walk, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs and lack of oxygen. Somewhere in her peripheral vision, she thought she saw something move, but it could be a band of black bears for all she cared. She ignored the presence, she even ignored poor Nick, who waited for her by her door. She went straight into her shack and slammed the door behind her.
Misty rarely cried, but tonight she did. She curled up into a ball on her bed and hugged her pillow to strangle the sobs. When she realized it smelled like Cordelia's hair, she threw it across the room and cried harder. She tried to hug her arms around the hole in her chest, but she couldn't cover it. She couldn't get the image out of her head. Misty didn't know the first thing about relationships. She could only guess that they were not supposed to feel like this.
O0O
"I'm leaving you, mother."
Delphine turned at the sound of her voice. Borquita stood in the doorway of the small rented room. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet, her attitude broken. She held a bag in her embrace, tight as if Delphine would rip it from her arms the first chance she got. She might have, if she was within reach.
She had been caught getting ready for bed and now she stood there in a nightgown in the tiny room with a sense of dread seeping into her skin.
"What do you mean, child?"
"I mean what I'm saying to you, mother. I can't do this, you…" A sob choked her words and it took her a moment to gather herself. "You killed him! You murdered my husband, can't you see that? I thought you only hated Laveau and that's why you did all those things. But you must hate me too."
"I don't hate you, foolish girl. I love you! But we don't marry that kind. It wasn't real."
"It was real to me! So I'm leaving you. I'll go away and I won't even visit my sisters, because I don't want you to find me. I-I wanted to call the police, but… I won't do it. And I won't tell Laveau either, but that's all I can do for you."
She started to turn and the panic rose in Delphine's chest. There was still traces of blood under her nails, but in her mind the vile thing she had found in her daughter's bed was already forgotten. She didn't understand this deep rooted sadness staring back at her with Borquita's eyes.
"Borquita wait!" Delphine stumbled over the chair with her neatly folded clothes, but Borquita's eyes had turned cold amidst all the fiery redness. Her body was closed as she looked down on Delphine, now on her knees in the mess she had made.
"No. You're insane, mother, and I can't have you in my life anymore. Goodbye."
And she left. The doorway gaped empty and Delphine stared at it, desperately hoping this was only one of her daughter's rebellious attempts at getting her way. But she didn't come back and the doorway remained empty.
O0O
Misty couldn't believe herself, when the thought to turn Cordelia away at the door pressed on. In the steps towards the door, she thought about what to say, she even contemplated making up excuses. She also considered flat out telling Cordelia what she had witnessed and how it made her feel.
But when she opened the door and found Cordelia staring at her with that smile and a kind of longing in her eyes, Misty's body betrayed her and her defense crumbled. Cordelia pulled her in for a kiss and at least she could fight for her this way. By proving she could do better than Hank. She didn't want a war, but she certainly couldn't lose it, now that it seemed it had reached her threshold anyway.
Sometimes this was as far as they got, conversation over before it had even started. One of them would push the other towards the bed and leave the rest of the world at the doorstep. Today, Misty was the one to pull away and keep it light. The flames of what used to be desire now ate at her insides and arousal was torture.
"Hey", Cordelia said in a breathless voice. There was a smile in there too and this would have been the perfect time to start a conversation, before anything else got in the way, but that smile ruined her.
"Hey", she just said and tried to smile back. She turned away before Cordelia had a chance to see her fail. "Tea?"
"Sure. I would never turn down a cup of your personal brew." Hearing her speak was almost as painful as kissing her. Misty wondered how she kept it together. Did their half-existence not bother her? Or was she too consumed by darkness to notice another shade of it? Misty wondered too, if this was how Cordelia felt, when her thoughts turned malignant. Like that cold hand around her heart, always squeezing mercilessly, sometimes just a little harder to keep her from getting used to it.
On top of that, Misty felt stupid. She knew that Cordelia still maintained her marriage, but it had existed in some kind of alternate reality outside Misty's tiny world, until the moment she saw it with her own eyes. Now the bliss of denial turned to mock her.
"Are you okay?"
Misty flinched out of her dark thoughts and fumbled with the tea. "Yeah, 'course", she said and hoped her voice didn't sound as shrill as she thought it did. She turned to Cordelia, who sat patiently waiting on her bed, and handed her the cup. "Tell me 'bout your day."
Cordelia did so and now that Misty knew the faces of some of the kids, Cordelia's anecdotes started becoming little movies in her head. She laughed with Cordelia at the right times and even forgot for a moment that she was unhappy.
"How was your day?"
"Aw you know, the usual. Tended to my plants, spent some time with Nick. He's real agitated at the moment, 'cause there's somethin' lurkin' 'round the woods in this area. I can feel it too, it's been here for some days now on and off. Never gettin' close, but I think it scares him."
"What about you?" Cordelia asked. She looked wary. "Are you scared?"
Misty shrugged. "Na, it's probably nothin'. I'm just curious. Maybe it's just a stubborn fox. I keep tellin' Nick it's probably more scared of him anyway." She emptied her cup and put it aside on the table with Cordelia's.
Cordelia looked at her with wonder. "Sometimes I can't believe how brave you are. I would be terrified if I thought something was stalking me out here."
"I didn't say it was stalkin' me."
"But you're making it sound like it is. If you get the slightest feeling that you might be in danger, will you promise me to come by the house? I don't want to think that you're out here, unprotected." Misty's heart suffered another squeeze at the mention of Cordelia's home.
"Don't worry, I've got Nick." She couldn't meet her eyes. Instead she looked down at the bed, watched their fingertips play with each other. They wanted to get closer, they wanted to feel, but Misty couldn't let herself. It didn't feel right, when it hurt like this.
"Misty, please tell me what's bothering you", Cordelia pleaded. Her fingers crawled closer and entwined with Misty's as she watched them.
"I'm fine-"
"No, you're not. Hey." Cordelia placed a hand under her chin and forced Misty gaze up with a delicacy she couldn't resist. Once again Misty felt like this one finger was the only thing holding her up, keeping her from tumbling down in a fatal fall. She finally met Cordelia's eyes. "I can tell", Cordelia said. "This connection, this knowing, it goes both ways."
Misty swallowed once. Her heartbeat sped up, rallied up the pain and the panic of this first march onto the battlefield. She took Cordelia's hand in both her own and lowered it into her lap. Looking at her fine, pale skin, Misty anchored herself and found the courage.
"I don't wanna share you."
She could feel the hand freeze in hers as Cordelia's body turned stiff for a moment. She didn't want to face her again. Misty didn't used to think there was anything that scared her anymore and she had never shied away from any kind of contact with Cordelia, but today she did. Suddenly she was terrified.
"I'm sorry, Misty."
Misty's heart sank. She knew what it meant.
"Do you want me to leave?" Cordelia's voice was paper-thin and it made Misty look up. Her eyes were blank, glimmered with the stage that came before tears, and Misty shook her head.
"No. C'mere." She pulled Cordelia into an embrace and they laid down like that. Cordelia drew a heavy sigh and cradled herself into Misty's arms. At least, Misty thought, when she didn't choose, she couldn't choose wrong.
O0O
Hank jumped up at the sound of the front door opening. Fiona was out again – perhaps meeting with this mysterious man – and with Cordelia visiting Misty, he thought he'd have the house to himself. And in extend the freedom to drown his frustrations in booze. He hadn't been drinking long, the buzz wasn't quite present, but he had planned to get there. Lately, so many things seemed to go wrong. His boss' mention that they might need to let him go, if he didn't up his game – and he couldn't imagine the shame of getting fired from the company his father had once bragged that he would take over – and the dreadful presence of Cordelia's mother and now this Misty-thing. He had starting to suspect this friendship of Cordelia's to be something else. He had nothing to build it on, only her weird mood swings – honestly, she wasn't at the doctor's that often – and this unshakable feeling that she was slipping from his grip. It had been there that night a couple of days ago. She behaved different. It was hot as hell, but suspicious even so.
He shoved the bottle back in his drawer as the steps approached and barely had time to sit up before Cordelia stepped into the room.
She had been crying, that much was obvious. Cordelia crying was not a rare thing, but it still made a knot in his chest tighten every time. She shot a glance at him, crossed her arms and asked:
"Why do you bother hiding your drinking? It's not like I don't know about it." Hank hated it, when she sounded like Fiona, but he didn't say it. He had learned that this was another thing you must never say to women, if you expect to stay on speaking terms.
"You're home early", he said instead. "Everything okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Why do you bother hiding your tears, when you know I can see them?" He asked. For a moment, he thought he had been too daring, but then she chuckled with broken laughter and sniffled. She shrugged and looked at him with eyes that suddenly shone with unconcealed sadness. Knowing he had been granted permission, he rushed up from the desk to put his arms around her. She leaned against his chest and inhaled deep.
"Please don't tell me my mother's here."
"No, she's out again. No need to play tough."
Another broken chuckle. It vibrated against his chest and he hugged her closer.
"What happened with Misty?" He figured it had to be her.
Cordelia sniffled again. "We just had… a fight, I guess."
"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?" She told him no and they stayed still like that. Hank couldn't help trying to guess what the fight had been about. He couldn't even imagine them fighting, not with the way Cordelia talked about her, on the rare occasions that she did. And there it was again. The way she talked about Misty. Like she was the eighth wonder of the world. Hank debated if this was the right time to ask her straight, if something was going on. He had the right to know. Surely, it would be better than being in the dark, having to guess and driving himself to the bottle, because these horrific suspicions were tearing at him.
In the end, he stayed quiet. He couldn't bear the thought of opening a new wound, while she was licking another. But a grim thought occurred to him: Was he standing here consolidating her after a fight with her lover on the side? The thought almost made him pull away and spill his guts. He muscles even flinched, but when Cordelia didn't react to it, the urge dulled again. He wanted to ask, but at the same time, he feared he was not going to like the answer.
