Say Something (Ascension)

by Ly Merrick

Only one witch will arise as the Supreme - but when they are alone, nothing else really seems to matter. Misty and Cordelia fall in love gradually, but they fall hard. (one shot)

And I am feeling so small

It was over my head

I know nothing at all

"Out of all the girls in the house," Fiona's predatory smirk grew as she advanced. Misty eyed the Supreme with guarded caution, leaning against the door (one hand poised to close it if need be), "you are the only one worth a damn magic wise."

Miss Cordelia had told her about this – one late night in the greenhouse, one of their very late, private nights together – and Misty wasn't about to fall for some trap just because this old crow wanted to assure her own immortality. "Bullshit," Misty cocked her chin upward, a semi-triumphant smile on her lips, "your daughter told me how it works with the Supreme. You can keep your powers. I don't want 'em."

From behind Fiona, a voice responded, "Leave her alone, Mother."

Fiona wheeled around, fury coming off of her in waves, "Excuse me? I have a surprise for the girl."

"A trick. And no house guest, from what I've seen downstairs. You're cruel and unkind for leading her on and I will not see you harm a hair on her head," Miss Cordelia's eyes flashed angrily, one blue and one brown, narrowing as she faced off against her mother. There were brief tense moments before Fiona laughed harshly.

"Think what you like, Cordelia," Fiona hissed her daughter's name in a very un-motherly way. And then the old crow was slipping out of the room and stalking away, retreating for the moment.

Cordelia's eyes seemed to soften, flicking easily to Misty's. "I apologize," she offered carefully. "I should've known she would come to bother you."

Misty only shook her head, feeling a sort of swelling happiness mixed up somewhere in her fear. No one had ever really stood up for her like that before. She gaped momentarily, searching for words to say as her hands wrung together.

Somewhere in that space of time, Cordelia had moved closer, reached between them, and gently untangled Misty's hands, taking one in her own. "Come, I'd like to discuss some things with you in the greenhouse," she guided Misty – who stayed just behind Cordelia, marveling at the warmth of her hand, the softness of her skin.

She didn't want to let go of that hand, felt herself gravitating towards its warmth.

Miss Cordelia made her feel things that she shouldn't – not for a teacher. Really, they were about the same age but it was still weird, with her being in a position of authority and all. And being guided by something as simple as clasped hands made her feel butterflies and goosebumps all over. All that time Stevie had been singing about lovers and women who were magnetic and Misty hadn't really understood that about a real person before – until Cordelia.

The familiar greenhouse loomed ahead. They'd spent many hours there together as of late – particularly since Cordelia gained her eyesight. Misty's feelings made her nervous and coaxed her into a cautious silence.

And her mind turned to the present as soon as their hands came apart and Cordelia paced anxiously to her work table. "My mother is planning something. She's singled you out and I don't like it."

Then that sickening fear settled in Misty's stomach and she crossed her arms over herself, clasping onto her own body as if she could shield herself from danger. "It's 'cause I'm really the only one who managed to bring anyone back to life. That night the neighbor lady got shot – she made me bring her back, and Miss Cordelia I'm awfully scared."

"I know," Cordelia closed the space between them again – something reserved and hesitant in her eyes before she palmed Misty's arms gently, "you've had enough trouble for many lifetimes."

So have you, Misty wanted to say, but she could only focus on the nervous bumps arising across her skin as Cordelia's fingers soothed lines over her arms. There was so little space between them. Her eyes darted nervously over Cordelia's face, brow creased in hesitation and confusion. Cordelia however seemed lost only in worry. "I don't wanna be the Supreme. I never wanted it. It's not fair, Miss Cordelia. If – I mean I treasure every life I've been able to save but if I could give this stinky power back I think I would. Or if I could slink back to my damn swamp and stay there safe and I just –" Her words tumbled out like little accidents crashing into each other and she didn't know whether this was fear or the fact that Cordelia's fingers were moving from her biceps to her folded forearms. "I'm scared," Misty felt herself trembling just a little, her hands visibly so as soon as she felt the unusually tactile Cordelia take her hands into her own.

"Misty," Cordelia's voice was a soft, almost angelic plea, "I will keep you safe. As frightened as you are, you must know that I will not let anything happen to you," those two-toned eyes bore into Misty and made the Cajun feel suddenly small. Cordelia was the only woman who'd ever made her feel nervous and excited at the same time.

Misty offered a reluctant half-smile.

"Do you trust me?"

Misty wanted to answer, wanted to say she trusted Cordelia with her life, everything she had to offer, but instead she stayed silent and nodded.

"Then know that you being here, in this house, is the easiest way for me to watch over you."

Did she talk to all the girls this way? She felt Cordelia's hands let go of her own and Misty wrapped them around her own midriff again. A shield for all that which made her feel uncertain.

"All this seriousness is just not my bag, you know?"

Cordelia offered a small smile, "I know. I'm so sorry," the sadness that lingered behind the apology was almost too much to handle. Cordelia was searching Misty's face for something, she could tell.

"None of it's your fault, Miss Cordelia," Misty had meant that to come out a whole lot more lighthearted but her butterflies made her voice quiet and a little husky. "If anything – you're the only reason I'm stayin' here. 'Cause I do trust you and I feel safe when I'm here – when I'm –" she shook her head. "I just feel like with all this Coven shit I'm in over my head. I never wanted any of this. I wanted my swamp and my Stevie and maybe somebody to share it with."

Something unfamiliar flickered across Cordelia's expression and then disappeared, too quickly for Misty to really translate. She looked like she wanted to say something, but maybe that was Misty making things up in her head.

Misty wanted to reach forward, wanted to embrace Cordelia and feel safe in her warmth, just for a little while, but instead stood trembling just a little, chewing on her bottom lip.

Some kind of tension brewed between them that Misty dare not name, for fear of getting her hopes up and having them dashed. Her eyes still searched Cordelia's, and she felt the woman's warmth still rolling between them – the spare few inches that existed between their bodies.

"Would you like to stay in here a while?" Cordelia finally spoke, an anxious edge to her voice. "We have plants in here we should tend to, and it may make you feel slightly better after that run-in with my mother."

Misty nodded eagerly, "Please," she replied.

###

Say something, I'm giving up on you;
I'll be the one if you want me to;
Anywhere, I would have followed you.

Misty was sort of hiding in the greenhouse the next day when Miss Cordelia came in, relatively quiet as she closed the door and locked it behind her. Her expression betrayed slight irritation.

"I don't understand how these girls think that any of this is some kind of competition or that any of it is some kind of prize to be won," Cordelia fumed as angrily as she ever did (which was to say not very angrily).

Misty's gaze rose from the plant she was nursing to life, searched out Cordelia's eyes. "Did somethin' happen, Miss Cordelia?"

"Cordelia," the woman corrected somewhat sharply, and then her expression softened, "Sorry, Misty. I just wish you would call me Cordelia. I don't want you to feel like I am above you in any way," she clarified more gently this time, leaning heavily against the door and putting a palm over her forehead. "If I have to split up another fight or stop another attempt at murder between any of these girls I think I'm going to scream, or maybe retire."

Misty gave an amused grin, her brows knitting together sympathetically, "I'm awfully sorry," she nearly said Miss, the name hesitating at the tip of her tongue, "Cordelia, you're the only one who can lead us. Your mama is more interested in eliminatin' us and I know it really sucks, havin' to deal with all these –" Misty gestured in the direction of the house, "these girls, but we need you."

Cordelia's irritation seemed to fold in on itself and disappear, but she still stay leaning with her head against the door. "It's just that Madison is a mirror of my mother at a younger age. She would sooner kill her fellow witches than see a witch rise above her in power. It frightens me. How am I to keep the Salem line unified if they care more for killing one another than protecting the Coven?"

"I'm not sure I know," Misty answered honestly, leaning on the edge of the table nearest the door where Cordelia resided, "but I do know that you're the only person that can get the job done. And I mean that."

Cordelia sighed softly. She looked tired – little lines at the edge of her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

Misty wanted desperately to embrace the woman. She was such a tactile person that controlling herself around Cordelia was nearly impossible – but not so impossible that she couldn't hold back. There was something different about embracing a woman that she felt sort of feverish about.

"Do you want a hug?" Misty asked hesitantly.

Cordelia didn't meet Misty's eyes, only nodded and looked somewhere near Misty's throat. "That would be nice."

With permission – always afraid of somehow disrespectin' someone who was her superior in many ways – she found it easy to move forward and pull Cordelia away from the door just enough to slip her arms around her slim waist, slip her fingers up Cordelia's back. She felt the woman relax a little bit, softening in the embrace as she pressed herself into Misty's arms.

Misty closed her eyes, breathing in the intoxicating smell of plants and perfume and lavender shampoo, and dug her fingers just a little into Cordelia's shoulders. "I'm sorry you have to be so dang stressed – there's no one I'd like to see happy more than you," Misty admitted quietly into the curtain of hair. She tried her best not to, but the impulse to nuzzle against Cordelia was almost too strong to resist.

"That's very sweet of you to say," she heard the responding whisper, butterflies surging in her stomach as she felt Cordelia's arms slip around her neck and fingers tangle in the sensitive hairs just at the base of her neck.

Misty felt a little bit like she couldn't breathe. She felt so desperately for Cordelia that it made her ache everywhere. She couldn't tell her – that would've been stupid and besides what would a woman like her want with someone simple like Misty? 'Sides, she had been married to a man and it just wouldn't make sense to suddenly want to be with some Cajun woman who spent more time with alligators than people.

"Can I be honest with you?"

Misty let out a nervous breath, "Always, Cordelia," she broke away just enough to look into Cordelia's eyes, leaning down just a little when the woman refused to look up at her. "You can trust me."

"I want you here to protect you," Cordelia began, knotting a hand in Misty's and squeezing, "but I need you here because you are the closest thing to a confidante I have ever had. You are the only person I truly trust and I cannot imagine waking up and going to your room only to find you missing," the words were full of tension and sadness, and it made Misty fall completely silent.

"Miss Cordelia –" she slipped into the formality out of nervousness, felt her hands tremble a little as Cordelia's eyes lingered on their clasped hands.

"I should have been honest yesterday, but I am begging you," Cordelia's vulnerability was rare. The woman was so guarded sometimes that she was hard to read, but here she was with almost-shed tears in her eyes as she looked at Misty, "please don't leave me here by myself, to deal with this alone."

It was like something clicked in Misty and she didn't know how the hell to process it. There was some feeling, some realization that she felt Cordelia's heartbeat more surely than her own sometimes. She always felt like Cordelia's thoughts, actions, were a mirror for her own most of the time. When she would shift, so would Misty. Cordelia made her feel like a real, whole person, someone with weight and existence and gravity attached to them.

"I'm not leavin'," Misty's words sort of husked from her throat and she found herself moving forward again, this time taking Cordelia into her arms without any hesitation. She felt Cordelia's arms fold against her chest, the woman in her arms making herself smaller somehow, burying herself into Misty's embrace. "You don't ever have to be afraid of that," Misty nuzzled against Cordelia's ear closely as she whispered this, somehow knowing it was what Cordelia needed from her.

She still felt confused as hell, because Cordelia still made her feel things that she didn't know all the words for. Momentarily, she shoved aside her insecurity to be sure that Cordelia could find some sort of strength in her.

"I think I care about you more than I've ever cared about anyone," Misty found herself confessing gently, her hands soothing lines up and down Cordelia's back as she felt the shorter woman trembling just a little bit.

She wanted Cordelia to say something about that, to acknowledge that – maybe to give her a sense of validation, but it seemed that wasn't in the cards for her today. Cordelia stay silent, pressed against Misty as if she needed Misty to be her shell, her shield.

They stay in silence together, Misty rubbing Cordelia's back until the woman felt strong enough to step out of the greenhouse and face her difficult task.

###

And I will swallow my pride -
You're the one that I love;
[…] I will stumble and fall,
I'm still learning to love,
just starting to crawl.

She found Cordelia crying late one night, as she was tiptoeing down the hallway to the restroom. She'd passed the doorway, thinking that she couldn't possibly be hearing someone in tears, but a moment's hesitation found her at Cordelia's doorway, afraid to knock.

So she didn't knock. She edged the door open as quietly as possible, lingering in the doorway because she knew Cordelia knew she was standing there. Misty's eyes were full of uncertainty, her brows furrowed, because she didn't know if she should be the one to comfort her.

She resolved that maybe she was the only one who could. So she took her hand off the door and closed the distance between herself and Cordelia – who was hunched over on her bed – slipping in beside her and without any question, wrapped her arms around the shorter figure. Their silhouettes tangled in the moonlight, unified shadows on the floorboards.

"I'm useless, Misty. I haven't even gotten my Second Sight back since these damn –" Cordelia sobbed quietly, her shaking hands grasping Misty's arms hard enough to hurt. "I'm useless. How am I supposed to protect any of you, lead any of you, if I have no power?"

Misty hushed her softly, pulling Cordelia forcibly by the waist so that she was pressed against Misty almost everywhere – a fact that made her entire body shiver bone-deep – and wrapping the bedsheets around them. "You're not useless. You got more power than any of us, and I'm not lyin'. It's just suppressed, hidin' away because you don't think about yourself – ever. You think about us, you help us, but you haven't spent any time doin' that for yourself."

Cordelia only cried harder at this, and Misty felt her clutch tighter, wiggle just a little closer, impossibly so. Her warm lips were resting somewhere near Misty's throat – pulse no doubt rocketing the moment her body realized it – and Misty tangled her fingers in Cordelia's hair, marveling at its softness.

"Please stop cryin' – you're gonna break my heart, darlin', it's gonna be okay," Misty husked desperately. Cordelia's pain made her hurt all over. "Please," she gently pried Cordelia just far enough to search her eyes in the moonlight. "Hey," she soothed softly, moving her fingers delicately over fresh tears, "I swear to you, you're not alone. I'm here, and it's gonna be alright." She wiped each tear as it fell, and finally Cordelia opened reddened eyes to meet Misty's.

"I'm sorry –"

"Shut up," Misty murmured softly in response. "Stop apologizin' to me. You got nothin' to apologize for," she sifted her fingers through Cordelia's hair, took in the beauty of her face even in the midst of grief.

It took a little coaxing, but eventually Misty got Cordelia to calm down. She took Cordelia firmly in her arms, laying down with her. She knew if she left Cordelia now – despite her own reservations for putting herself in a sort of intimate situation with a woman she cared so deeply for – that the woman would be in pain the rest of the night. Her hand slipped over Cordelia's hip, circled around her and pulled her close. She felt her skin tremble as Cordelia's fingers trailed over her throat, to the side of her neck, tracing lines there; Cordelia buried her face against Misty's neck.

So close. So painfully close. Cordelia's warm breath ghosted across her skin and Misty's stomach flipped around a few times.

"You don't have Second Sight but that don't mean you don't have power," Misty tried to distract her onrush of feelings, her racing heart, by continuing to comfort Cordelia. She had managed to calm her down, and that was what mattered. "You glow – you're radiant, and I see it every day."

Her heart stammered against her ribs because she felt a warm, delicate kiss against her throat.

"Thank you," Cordelia murmured, her voice still somewhat tearful.

Oh, I wish you wouldn't do that, Misty thought to herself, felt her lower parts start to ache as another grateful peck lingered on her throat. She forgot to breathe long enough that her dizziness only seemed a side-effect. Her fingers clasped Cordelia's frame.

"What would I do without you, Misty? I can't imagine ever being without you," Cordelia's words held a small amount of fear, but more reverence than anything.

"You don't ever have to be, if you don't want. Not if I have anything to do with it. I'm not goin' nowhere, I promise you," Misty soothed – naively, certain that Cordelia couldn't actually be speaking in such an intimate way with her, in the way that Misty really wanted her to be. Her heart was racing but she tried her damnedest not to let it affect the way she spoke. She was sure, though, that Cordelia could feel her trembling.

She felt Cordelia's thigh press against her own, felt Cordelia shifting imperceptibly closer, her hips canting in just a little as if she could not get close enough. Misty felt a kind of fear that made her dizzy, only because she cared so damn much for Cordelia that wanting her in that way seemed a violation.

In her nervousness, she let out an anxious, shaky breath. Another kiss to her throat – this time very obviously intentional in the way that it lingered. "Cord—" Misty breathed the beginning of the name, felt another kiss, this time at the dip of her throat, where her collarbone met, "—darlin', do you know what you're doin'? I don't want you feelin' like you gotta be any kinda way – 'specially 'cause you're really upset –" she rattled nervously, but she felt Cordelia's thigh slip over her own, a hip press against her hipbone. That low ache got suddenly worse, got so unignorable that she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from making some kind of noise.

She wanted Cordelia to say something, to let her know that she wasn't just doing this out of grief and sadness and fear. Misty's fingers slipped over Cordelia's shoulders.

"The timing is terrible," Cordelia whispered in the dark, her mouth pressed near the shell of Misty's ear, "I know. I – this is frightening for me," a cant of her hips, another shift, her thigh pressing between Misty's own and oh god she felt want flood her whole system, "I feel things for you, Misty, that I have never even experienced with Hank. When – you're always there for me, the only person I can trust, the only person that looks at me with love in their eyes. And then I feel it all over – feel love for you like this flood I can't control and I know this is so inappropriate but I can't stop myself. I just need you to trust that this is me being as honest as I have ever been with you," she didn't know where all of Cordelia's words were coming from, but she felt the validation she had been looking for all this time.

She felt Cordelia's hand push at the fabric of her nightgown, find the tie, fingertips nimbly untangling the loose knot of it. Misty gasped, because suddenly Cordelia's hand was traveling to the tender meat of her breast, kneading softly, her thumb flicking over a hard nipple. Her body arched, and her hand covered the fabric-tented mound of Cordelia's hand. "If y-your sure," Misty husked, panted, "and I think –" it was so hard to find any coherent thought, "it's been mutual a long time, Cordelia. You're the most –" she moaned softly, because suddenly there was a hot mouth pressed against her pulse just at her neck, sucking, "amazin' person I've ever known –"

"I could fall in love with you, and I think I might," Cordelia whispered against the shell of Misty's ear, and her hand kneaded in a demanding sort of way, her thumb rubbing over Misty's sensitive nipple and suddenly Misty felt her body responding, her chest arching upward into the touch.

"Wouldn't bother me none," Misty gasped, moaned as she felt teeth at her throat, and then a soothing kiss nearer her jaw.

The way Cordelia's hand kneaded at her breast was hungry, slow, canting. And Misty felt dizzy and barely conscious with desire. Her hand still covered the mound that was Cordelia's hand, moved with the motion of it, wanting to feel unified and wanting to memorize the motion of Cordelia's fingers as they pinched just a little. She felt Cordelia's thigh pressing between her own, pressing up, and she thought maybe she was wet already, then knew it as contact with her core caused her to let out a ragged moan.

Cordelia's hand maneuvered to the other breast, Misty's hand seeking some kind of contact as she grasped at Cordelia's arm, held it tightly. She felt hot all over, the subtle pressing of Cordelia's thigh too much to handle. She felt the overwhelming desire to reach down, relieve her own arousal, but resisted, instead holding onto Cordelia's arm enough that it would likely bruise the next day. Her hips pressed into the point of contact, her body trembling.

Soon though, it was too much. Misty found herself coaxing Cordelia's demanding mouth from her throat and instead crushed their lips together for the first time, light exploding behind her eyes over and over again as she kissed, pleaded with her mouth, moaned into the warmth and wetness of Cordelia's kiss. Cordelia seemed to respond in kind, her hips jerking momentarily, just enough to be noticeable.

It was the culmination of an intense bond that had grown between them over time. It had been instantaneous but somehow not at all, and suddenly Misty felt Cordelia pushing at her clothing. The shorter woman straddled her hips as she sat up, removed first her own silk night dress and then pulling Misty's over her head.

The sight of Cordelia's body was enough to throw Misty into a whole new state of arousal. She leaned upward, captured Cordelia's mouth with her own and her hands had a hunger of their own. She kneaded the soft skin, twisted at a nipple gently, pulled just a little, then soothed, rubbing gentle circles and listening to the responding moans coming from the woman she'd grown so fond of.

"I need you inside me, or me inside you," Cordelia gasped against Misty's mouth, her hands pressing hard at Misty's shoulders and pushing her down, her hips rocking downward against Misty's, unsatisfied with the lack of contact. "Now," she moaned softly, came down to kiss Misty again, harder, teeth scraping at her bottom lip and pulling.

Misty's body was alight at the way Cordelia spoke, and she found her hands skirting Cordelia's bare back, cupping her hips and feeling their rhythm as they canted unsatisfyingly. She switched their positions, using her knee to spread Cordelia's thighs as she lay the woman on her back. Her hand fit well between them, fingers dragging along the inside of Cordelia's thigh. Cordelia's hooded gaze dropped shut and her head fell back as Misty found warmth and wetness awaiting her fingertips. She circled an aroused nub, insisted against it and heard Cordelia's moans turn to whimpers.

Misty watched, entranced, as she slipped her fingers into Cordelia's warmth. Her body responded, mirrored Cordelia's, because she felt her insides pulsating needfully as her fingers massaged, pressed, coaxed carefully and lovingly. Her hips had begun to move slowly with her touch, and when she saw Cordelia respond to the force with more arousal, Misty repeated the action more forcefully, pressing her fingers deeply against the bundle of muscles that seemed so much more sensitive than the rest.

Cordelia's fingers dug into Misty's shoulderblades, and it drove the Cajun on. She fucked Cordelia slow at first, but soon her lover's animalistic response and the quickening upward stroke of her hips became her guide, and she increased the pace painfully so. She buried her face against Cordelia's throat as she fucked, feeling Cordelia's fingers dig lines of red against the skin of her back.

"D-don't – you dare –" Cordelia stuttered into her ear as best as she was able, in between incoherent whimpers and moans, "s-s-stop," her thighs were trembling around Misty's hips, her ankle locked with Misty's as Misty picked up the pace, moved deeper and more insistently, all but whimpering herself. Some wild part of her had awakened, wanted to take Cordelia into oblivion. Her hips crashed against the back of her own hand as she insisted, the friction causing her to moan softly and then stifle it against Cordelia's throat.

It was at this point that Cordelia's hand loosed from Misty's hair and snaked between them. The surprised registered in Misty's trembling moan as she felt Cordelia's fingers slip inside of her and match Misty's rhythm. Their hips pressed together quicker, more needfully.

"Je-sus," Misty found herself whimpering against Cordelia's ear.

"God, Misty," Cordelia spoke simultaneously, moaned the words reverently, emotionally, but husked out as Misty's thumb twitched against her clit, became something less holy as the words spilled from her lips, "Fuck – fuck, don't stop," she pleaded. In her arousal, she was matching Misty's quickened, hard pace.

"I'm gonna –"

It was too much. First, Cordelia spilled over the edge, crying out and clutching to Misty, her fingers curling inside of Misty the moment her thighs locked around Misty's hand. She was exploding into oblivion, crying out Misty's name unevenly.

Misty came next, rocking herself against Cordelia's fingers for just another few seconds as she pressed her mouth to Cordelia's, and suddenly she was feeling a kind of blindness she had never experienced, her vision going white and her body suddenly tightening impossibly and then loosening and oh Lord she had never felt anything so amazing in her life.

Even as they slipped out of one another, Misty felt overwhelmingly still turned on. Cordelia's eyes were as dark as they had ever been, more likely mirroring Misty's own, and their lips crashed together and tears mingled amongst their kiss. Suddenly emotion swelled inside of Misty and she broke away, buried her face against Cordelia's neck and found her body tangling with Cordelia's. She was crying – not loudly – but tears flooded her gaze and she felt a knot gather in her throat.

She was hopelessly in love with Cordelia.

"I love you so much," she heard the tearful whisper against her ear, felt Cordelia clutching their bodies as close as possible to one another. "I love you," she insisted, "I love you, I love you, I love you," she chanted lovingly.

"More'n anything in this whole world," Misty responded once she had started to gather some coherence. She pressed her bare skin against every part of Cordelia she could. "I love you more than anything, more than my plants or Stevie or anything, you're all I need on this earth, Cordelia," Misty pleaded as if she were going to be kicked from the bed, from this house, desperate in her overwhelming emotion."

"You're mine forever, Misty," Cordelia whispered, cupping Misty's face as the taller girl parted just enough to look down at her, pulling her into a loving and affectionate kiss, something bordering desperate and attentive.

It did not matter now – nothing mattered now aside from this, aside from Cordelia Foxx and the bond they now shared into eternity.

###

Weeks later, when she burst back to life in Cordelia's arms, she cried. It was their second in the trial of Seven Wonders, but it was the last trial she would perform. She was clinging to Cordelia and didn't give a damn who saw or what any of them thought because she'd come back from the brink of death and so had Cordelia and this damn trial was almost over but not yet and she just wanted her lover, wanted to feel safe with the only person she'd ever loved.

"'Delia," she pleaded softly, "Oh, please don't make me do this anymore."

"No," Cordelia chanted against her ear, rocking her back and forth, eyes reddened with tears. "I won't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she pressed her mouth against Misty's temple.

The Coven didn't know – aside from maybe Myrtle – that they were lovers. They shared nearly every night together since that first consummation, spent every moment together, held hands when nobody was looking or found excuses to rest palms at the curve of backs.

Fear permeated her whole being. "I don't wanna be the Supreme. I can't do this. I can't," Misty cried, sitting up just a little more as she clutched herself closer to Cordelia. She sobbed into her lover's neck, taking comfort in the smell of lavender and perfume.

"You're here, baby," Cordelia whispered softly into her ear, fingers threading through her messy curls. "You're here and I'm not going to make you do this horrid trial. I'm so sorry."

"This feels a little gay," Misty barely registered the words, knew that Madison had spoken them. She didn't care what the wicked bitch thought. She didn't care what any of them thought. She held all the tighter to Cordelia as she felt those practiced hands soothing lines over her back.

"Shut up, Madison."

Cordelia broke away long enough to scold the girls, but Misty found comfort as soon as those familiar eyes met her own.

"'Delia," Misty breathed, realizing that Cordelia's eyes had changed since the beginning of the trial. Her lover was almost aglow. And her eyes were both brown now – an impossibly soulful brown. "Your eyes, baby, your eyes are normal again –"

"The Supreme –" Myrtle cooed from her chair. "It seems she has emerged in our own Cordelia."

So, whether Cordelia had brought her lover back to life or whether Misty had found her way out on her own, it didn't matter. Misty was alive – Cordelia was the Supreme.

"Darlin'," Misty husked proudly, tears stinging her eyes again, "Your eyes," she repeated softly.

Cordelia only smiled, tearfully, and dipped her head against Misty's. Their foreheads pressed together, fingers tangled in one another's hair, it was this that mattered. Their union, the meeting of their souls. The Coven would be safe, but more importantly, so would they.

"I love you," Misty whispered under her breath, "baby, I love you so much," it made her emotional, that familiar knot gathering in her throat. "I'm so proud of you," she laughed, throwing her arms around Cordelia again.

"I could not be who I am without you, Misty," Cordelia breathed against her ear. "You're everything to me."