Mother's Insight, a Building Faith Side Job
By Ellf
Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Dresden Files is a series by Jim Butcher. I own neither it nor any of the other series mentioned in this fanfiction.

After putting the youngest of my children to bed and saying goodbye to Sanya, I breathed out a sigh. It had been a trying but safe week that followed the few days of crushing fear. Fear for my family, fear for my husband, and fear for the world had all warred for my attention during the previous weekend. Thankfully things had turned out mostly okay, but given the injuries sustained by my husband and his friend and given that a good man had died, I couldn't exactly call it a win. Especially when two of my daughters had ended up in the hospital through no act of supernatural effect. It's easy to forget, when exposed to the horrors that true evil can place before you, that mundane things can harm. At least Molly only walked away with a broken arm, but Faith… I worried for my daughter.

She'd only just come home from the hospital the previous day, and today she seemed all right. I was half-tempted to try and force her to stay in a wheelchair until the doctors cleared her, but she was walking, laughing. The doctors had cleared her to come home, and she didn't have a physical therapy appointment until later in the week. Faith definitely seemed all right at the barbecue, but I knew better. She couldn't hide the slight wince in her step as she moved, nor could she hide from me the microexpressions of pain that she displayed as she tried to smile through it. My baby was still hurt, and she would need time to recover, just like her sister.

Then I'd be able to talk with them about the abilities that they seemed to be developing. I'm sure that neither Molly nor Faith expected me to notice that they weren't looking people in the eyes anymore. In fact, they were actively avoiding locking gazes with anyone at the party. When Molly was teasing Sanya, she was looking at his nose and his forehead, not his eyes. When Faith was playing with Amanda, she did something similar. Given how my daughters had been prior to that, this was an odd behavior to be certain. I needed to figure out how to broach the subject with them. If I was right, they needed to give it up. That was the best option for them. If they gave up their abilities, they could live normal lives, apart from all the problems that they would bring. I didn't want them to end up worse off than I had been. The three Swords were accounted for. I didn't know if the Knights would be dispatched to save the daughter or daughters of one of the Knights, and I really didn't want to have to find out.

I sipped the tea I'd poured for myself in the kitchen. I'd finish cleaning up after I figured out just what I would say. I couldn't tell the girls about my past. It was done, over with, and I didn't want to taint their image of me or their grandparents. I also didn't want Michael to know just how deep the hell he saved me from went, even if I'm sure he suspected. My husband is not an unobservant man. I sighed as Michael walked into the kitchen, flanked by the twins.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Faith asked, taking a position at the sink to start washing dishes. I noted that she looked a little nervous, an expression that was echoed on her twin's face. She didn't know that I suspected, did she? What I suspected…

I looked to my husband who simply stood there, stoically, observing Faith and Molly as they started the dishes together. Molly made use of her unbroken arm to dry dishes that Faith placed near her, and I smiled, but the two of them still looked nervous.

"It's been a long week, Faith. I'm glad to have you home," I said, truthfully. I didn't want to bring up my suspicions in front of Michael. If I was wrong, it would be embarrassing to them, and if I was right, it might be frightening to them. Still, if Faith was nervous because she—

"I almost picked up a Blackened Denarius today, Mama…" Faith said, almost too quiet to be heard, and my heart leaped into my throat. I didn't know what to say, how to respond to that. That one of those coins could get so close to my baby… I'd tear their wings out feather by feather if they came close to harming them. "I didn't though. The man, Nicodemus, he threw out the coin onto our lawn. It landed near Harry, and I couldn't let him get it. So I picked him up. But I almost picked up the coin. I could have picked up the coin..."

"But you didn't," I said, Molly's voice joining my own. Molly wrapped her good arm around her sister's back, and I shook my head. "So, what happened to the coin itself? It's not—"

"Dealt with, for now," Michael said solemnly. That was enough for me. If Michael said that the coin was dealt with, that meant that it wasn't going to be a problem for now. If it became a problem later, we'd deal with it then. "But that isn't what you were going to be talking to your mother about, Faith."

"Yeah, but…" Faith leaned backward into Molly's embrace, clearly savoring it. I wondered what made Faith feel telling me about the coin was a good opening statement. If she thought that was a good warm-up, especially with mentioning how close my youngest son came to having a Fallen in his head, then I shuddered to think what she was supposed to come in and say.

"Fai, we should tell her." Molly, the on again, off again, voice of reason. Molly was more rebellious than Faith, but she was able to play to Faith's sense of responsibility in a way that consistently made me proud. Still, I knew she probably did some things that I would prefer she didn't. Such things probably would have ended with more than just a broken arm, most of the time. "You told Daddy already."

My eyes shifted to Michael. If he knew, and he wanted them to tell me, then it was something personal to them that he felt I should know, but he didn't feel it was enough that he would tell me himself.

"I didn't exactly tell him," Faith said, running her left hand through her hair. My daughter turned to me, looking me straight on, but she didn't look me in the eye. I chose not to look her in the eye myself, focusing on her lips and nose. I might have let my talent wither away years ago, but I still knew the proper places to look at someone's face if I didn't want to trigger what Faith clearly was afraid of triggering. "Mama—Mom, Molly and I…."

"You two have magic," I said, trying not to color the word with as much disdain as I felt for it. It wasn't their fault that they had it. It was mine. The power came from me, and they'd simply inherited it. Now, I needed to convince them to give it up. I wasn't sure how I could do that. One of my husband's best friends was an example of how to use magic in a good way. With him there, how could I convince them that it was better for them to have a normal life? To not let themselves be tainted by their power? "Sometime within the last week or two, the two of you developed it somehow."

"Um… yes, actually," Molly said, looking at the floor. "We just started doing—"

"—a little bit of magic," said Faith, finishing her sister's sentence. She still looked at me. "We want to learn how to do more."

"No," I said, and I looked to Michael. I hoped he would back me up on this. "The two of you shouldn't. You should give it up."

Michael pursed his lips, but he didn't speak. I wasn't sure if that was because he supported my argument or not, but I needed to expand on it.

"I want the two of you safe, to have a normal life," I said. They needed to understand. I didn't want to outright forbid them from learning. I knew how I was at their age. Forbidding it would guarantee that they would try and learn. They reminded me too much of myself that way. The best bet I had would be some sort of reasoning. I wanted them safe. "At least as normal as you can with this family. If you give up your magic, that can be guaranteed."

"Mama, do you actually believe that?" Faith asked, an unreadable look settling upon her face. "That a normal life was possible for either of us? Mom, Molly and I can barely stand to sleep in separate beds for too long, let alone separate rooms. We both had trouble all last week while I was in the hospital. The best sleep either of us got was when Molly was visiting in the room. Normal was never in the cards for us."

I grimaced. I didn't know how much of their attachment to each other was psychological and how much was… something else. I'd seen too much throughout their years of life to deny that there definitely was something special about my girls, especially with how close they were, but I never really wanted to admit that. They weren't a normal pair of twins, to be certain. I just wasn't entirely sure why.

"I just want the two of you safe. I really don't want the two of you learning magic. Maybe if you give it up, the two of you will be able to sleep in separate rooms with ease."

"Mom, we don't want to sleep in separate rooms," my daughters said in unison. "We're fine with the way things are, and we actually like it. We thought you were okay with it too, but us learning magic is too much?"

Oh. That was… Well, it wasn't exactly new, but the degree of which they were acting together was. Maybe it was an unconscious use of magic related to their twin bond, or maybe it was just their twin bond itself. Michael clearly was as surprised as I was at their actions, even if it was similar to what I'd seen… They had used magic then. That Thursday, they'd used this ability. Usually when they spoke in unison, there were little ticks, little tells, but now it was just them speaking. I couldn't tell how they were doing it.

"Michael, what do you think?" I asked, turning toward my husband.

"Harry has offered to be their instructor." Of course he had. Of course, the wizard had offered to teach my children magic. Sometimes I just wanted to throttle that man. I wouldn't though. Because he was Michael's friend. I would tolerate him for that reason, and as much as I loathed to admit it, he probably was a good choice to teach the twins. If they were to learn magic, that is.

"We want to learn, Mom," the twins said again. "We can do a lot of good with our abilities if we learn how to use them responsibly."

I sighed. "I would really prefer that you give it up."

"Remember the Parable of the Talents?" Molly asked, and then Faith followed quickly, indicating that they were still acting together. "We want to nurture what the Lord gave us so we can use its fruits to give back."

A look to Michael saw that I would get no support there. The use of Scripture, plus the fact that they spoke to him first, meant that he probably approved already. Why wouldn't he? Mr. Dresden was his friend, and he was an amazing wizard. I named my youngest after him, in a fit of… let's call it whimsy and drugged up sensations, but I can't say that Harry's namesake wasn't a good man. No matter how much I would like to. Dresden had found my daughter when she ran away; saved my own life two years ago, and he had offered to teach my daughters.

I sighed. "Fine. I will need to talk with Mr. Dresden once the two of you have started, but fine. I will support your studies."

My girls breathed out a sigh of what must have been relief. "Oh, thank you, Mom…"

"You're welcome, I suppose." I sighed. I wanted them to give it up, but with Michael's support… I'd trust my husband, and through him, his friend.

Molly came over and hugged me with one arm. Faith joined her a half-second later, and the two of them seemed to be moving independently of each other again.

"Oh, thank you so much, Mom," Molly murmured into me.

"Yeah… I'm glad we were able to work this out…" Faith murmured into my other side. I ran a hand through each of my daughters' hair, and I hugged them close. I loved them dearly, and I would need to support them in this, their time of need. "Even if I haven't brought up the past life thing yet…"

Wait… What?

I'm sorry, but, past life, what?