Alex's wand is ringing.
Even though the din of the Helping Hands office is ridiculous, even though she's been hunched over the ancient computer for almost an hour trying to finish the flyers HH wants, she answers it on the very first ring.
She's been doing that all day. And all day, she's been telling herself to knock it off. To stop acting like she's so eager to talk to whoever's on the other end. Telling herself she could at least wait for two rings. That herself she needs to make whoever-it-is wait, she has to. Because it might be Justin. It's probably Justin: she hasn't talked to him since the incident with Mason and Juliet. When he calls, she doesn't want him to think she's too anxious to talk to him.
(But why hasn't he called?)
She holds the wand to her ear. "Hello? Yes, speaking." She listens for a moment. "Uh-huh... no, tomorrow's fine. And we can use the commons, right? No, I'll bring the set. Uh-huh. Okay, great... thanks!" When she hangs up, her mood has improved at least a little. Now she only has to finish these flyers. And when Justin calls... well, never mind him. She has things to do. Important things.
(When he calls, she'll make him sorry he's kept her hanging like this.)
The office of Helping Hands, the nonprofit where Alex works (well, volunteers) is small and shabby. Everything about it, from the worn and thin carpet, (a recycled Magic Carpet that's flown its last), to the drab walls, worn furnishings and harassed staff, tells a story of an organization with too much to do and not enough resources to do it with. It's the story of most small nonprofit startups, Wizarding and otherwise, familiar and hopeful. There are too many desks too close together, each Wizard trying to ignore the noise and proximity of the others.
As a rule, Alex is pretty good at ignoring, and on most days it doesn't get to her. Today is an exception. With so much going on around preparations for the benefit at Wiz-Tech, telephones (not to mention wands) ring almost constantly, and the rattle of fingers against keyboards completes with noisy printers and noisy volunteers. Almost, you wouldn't even know it was part of the Wizard World... Well, unless you happened to look out of the window, that is. Past their windows, a molten river rolls and boils. The one time Alex asked, her boss, a half-elf called Mimi, had shrugged, saying with a grimace, "Volcano-Land's upstream... keeps the rent down," and jerked a thumb in the direction of the theme park based (literally) on a live volcano. Tacked up on the wall next to the window, an overwise poster showing the "Helping Hands" logo (a big pair of cartoon hands embracing a smaller one) is starting to curl at the edges from the heat.
Alex doesn't really mind. Sure, it's gonna be kind of a bitch in the summertime, but it isn't summer now, and the heat rising from the banks of the lava river helps keep the building warm. Which is probably good, considering how little they have to spent on heat and utilities. At any rate you can't see it very well right now, because it's still raining hard, cold sheets of water streaming past the windows and obscuring most of the view. It's been three days since she's seen Justin... and it's been raining that whole time. Not that she cares. The phone on her desk next to hers rings, and her head flies up... she scowls when she sees that it's not for her.
"Alex?"
She frowns, turning around. God, what? It's Mimi, looking harried as usual, her blonde hair sticking out so that only the tips of her pointed ears show, holding a clipboard and wearing an aggrieved expression. "There's some guy here to see you. I told him he'd have to wait outside in the lobby.
Justin!
Alex gets out of her chair with a show of nonchalance, although who she's showing it to isn't particularly clear. Mimi isn't likely to notice or give a damn if she did, her assorted co-workers are too busy to care, and Justin is still on the other side of the door. Knock it off, Alex, she scolds herself. Alex smoothes her hair, glances down at her outfit quickly to make sure she's not out of place, and gathers her worry and impatience and relief into a tight ball in her middle. Already planning what she'll say - His nerve! Leaving her in the rain like that, just walking off! - she opens the door to the equally dingy lobby. He'll have to make it up to her... if he's lucky! She's got her speech all ready, just like that, because words have never been a problem for Alex, and as she walks into the lobby she turns to Mason and says...
Wait. What?
Mason?
"Mason, what are you doing here?" she hisses.
Mason stands shivering just inside the entrance to the HH lobby, a dim little room in which he can smell the comings and goings of dozens of feet; adults and children, male and female. It's Wizard-scent mainly, but others too; Elf, Ogre, Mortal. Something's happened here in the last few days, something interesting enough to leave the astringent spice of excitement fizzling in the air - not fresh, but still here, and he can just catch it. Something's going on here, and in other circumstances he might have taken time to find out what it was. But those intriguing smells are just background noise... he's here for Alex.
It's taken him forever to find her, nosing around downtown, asking questions. They were together for one moment and then Alex had disappeared in the rain. Despite his keen tracking abilities, it'd been like their paths had never crossed at all. He'd wanted to go with her then, follow her and beg he for another chance... but one black look was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. In their months of separation, Mason hasn't never forgotten Alex Russo... how could he?... and he'd definitely never forgotten her temper, her fire, the ferocity she could bring down on him on those rare occasions when her ire was roused. So much time had passed, and Mason is still afraid of her.
And he wants her.
After a brief, unpleasant interaction with the little woman who smelt like an elf with an attitude problem, she'd banged out the door and into the back office, leaving Mason waiting in the empty room, where he drips rainwater on the carpet, and shivers, and waits. An eternity slides past. Then the door opens again, more gently this time, and she is here. Alex. His angel, the love of his life.
If he had a tail, he'd be wagging it. She shines like the sun.
Alex comes into the room briskly, with her head up and a familiar fire in her expression... but when she sees him, she stops cold. Her face falls; all the joy leaks out of her. Her beautiful eyes narrow, and she hisses, "Mason. What are you doing here?"
Mason gulps, hands nervously trying to straighten his rumpled clothes without success, trying not to see himself through her eyes. His clothes are dirty and crumpled, slept-in. He needs a haircut and a bath, and he knows his eyes must be swollen, red. He's been weathering a personal hailstorm of loss since the last time they met; first Alex (again) and then Juliet. It's difficult to say which has been worse. But it doesn't matter now. He knows what he wants, now. He swallows hard, and stammers, "Alex. I-I couldn't help it, I had to come see you."
He can see the hurt in her face, which he hadn't expected. Then her features harden into a mask of anger, which he had. "Does Juliet know you're off you're leash?"
He shakes his head, not answering the question so much as negating it. "This isn't about Juliet, my love..."
"Don't call me that!" She advances on him, and he retreats a step or two. She's beautiful, he thinks, and the little lift of joy in his heart is completely unfair. "What do you want, Mason?"
"After I saw you the other day... when I was with... " He doesn't finish the sentence. "...and you were with your brother, I knew I had to see you again, Alex. Werewolves are incredibly loyal, as you know, and... Honey, I've missed you so much." He reaches for her, making his best puppydog eyes, and she shoves him backward.
"Yeah, well, at least that makes one of us. Mason, you need to leave. I have things to do." Her voice is hard, and colder than the rain outside. She begins to turn away, and he moves to block her path.
"Alex, don't you think we deserve another chance? After all we've been through." Desperation is rising in him like a tide; his canine heart bruised and near to broken. If Juliet doesn't want him... and Alex won't take him back... what is Mason going to do? Mason knows, though it shames him, that he needs a strong woman in his life to take the lead, as Alex had when they met. As Juliet had, that night after the Wizard Competition. Werewolves weren't meant to make choices. He takes a deep breath over the frightened thudding of his heart, and tries again. "Alex. Seeing you the other day just made me realize how much I've missed you, how badly I need you back. It- it was wrong of my to do what I did, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! And with Juliet out of the picture, with us meeting by, by fate as we did, it seems like we're meant to get back togeth-"
Alex holds up a hand like a traffic cop. "Wait... Stop. Rewind. With uliet who-what now?"
For a moment, he looks at her as if she should know what he's talking about... dazed by the sight of her, he's forgotten to explain. "Juliet- she's gone, my love. She's, she's leaving in a few days. Back to... what did she say? Transylvania."
Alex stares at him as if he's gone mad. Which may be more or less the case. There's been too much love and loss in one week for a heart like Mason's. Too much for a mind like his to wrap itself around. She spits, "Transylvania? Where the Mummy is?"
The canine shrugs, helplessly. "I guess? That's not important, love. What's important is you and I, our relationship. Our future. We can finally-"
"Does Justin know?"
Mason's head spins. Justin... her brother? Right. But why is that important? Why now, when they're so close to being together that he can practically taste- smell it? She's still staring at him, her perfect features flat and unreadable.
"Mason, does Justin know?"
"I... I think so... yes. Yes, she said something about telling him off when she came to get her things from my place." He brightens with the memory, "She told him two days ago. The night after we... ran into each other," he whimpers, still giving her, or trying to give her, his puppydog face."
Alex's face flares with alarm, and Mason can sense her anxiety rise as her heartbeat speeds and her smell changes subtly. Misunderstanding, he rushes on to reassure her, trying to take control of the conversation: "Don't worry love... she's gone now, and she won't be important thing here is that you and I..."
Alex comes back from wherever she's gone, composure returning to her features. But instead of the happy reconciliation he'd hoped to read there, something like fury clouds her eyes. She moves forward, backing him toward the door. "Get out, Mason"
"W-what?" But things have been going so well! "But, sweetheart! We can be good together again...I still say all those cute British things that you like so much... a woman shouldn't be alone, Alex... Alex, you need me!" he all but howls, a doggy look of misery falling onto his face.
"No," she says flatly, reaching around him to open the door. "...and what I'm starting to realize, is that I never did."
Pulling herself together, she gives the werewolf his walking papers. "Well, since you're so loyal and all... maybe you should use your keen dog-sniffing abilities, and find the bitch."
She's been gradually backing him toward the door, and as he gives her his most pleading puppy-dog face, she pushes him out into the rain, like a dog who's done something dirty on the carpet. "I'm not going to be your fallback plan again, Mason, " she says, "Not right now. And not ever. Now go find Juliet and see if she still needs a plan B. Or a pet. Or whatever it is that you two weirdos do together. Her eyes brighten with humor and something else. "Go on, Mason..." she pauses, as if relishing the taste of the cruelty in her mouth, "...Heel."
Alex shuts the door in his face, then hurries out of the room to gather her things and mumble a hurried explanation to her boss. She's going to need to leave work a little early.
Justin isn't asleep. Really. He's not.
Head cradled in his arms, the head of Wiz-Tech drift in and out of consciousness. Snatches of conversation, shards of images, float in his mind like things underwater.
Magic does what it wants.
Justin is exhausted; he hasn't been outside the walls of Wiz-Tech for at least 36 hours.
Your own sister, Justin!
Under the guise of urgent administrative work and last-minute preparation for the HH benefit party, he's immersed himself in one near-mindless task after another, moving seamlessly from grading to party planning to scheduling to lesson plans. Several times now, and without success so far, he's tried to explain to the school custodian what exactly happened to in the chem lab. And he's been to visit Professor Crumbs, his old mentor, to try to explain it to himself.
I'm sorry, Justin! I'm sorry trapped us in this stupid store... I'm sorry I made you wear a mask...
I'm sorry I won the Wizard Competition
He's eaten little and slept less, but exhaustion has finally caught up with him. he just meant to put his head down for a minute - to rest his eyes. Honest.
I'm sorry I went out with Olaf... and Zane...
He isn't even in his office, but rather in the classroom-half of the chem lab, slumped over the grading he'd abandoned on the night that Alex dragged him off to that ridiculous costume shop. When they'd been locked up together overnight (that part hadn't been so bad, not that he'd want to admit it to Alex), escaped criminal prosecution the following morning (bad)... and subsequently run into Juliet and that bastard Mason, almost literally (Very bad.) All the way home, they'd fought.
I never know when I'll see you anymore, he'd told her, that night in the rain. I never know where to find you. And that much was true. Over the last few months, things had deteriorated between them until it was more like living with a roommate than having a girlfriend. A roommate who didn't seem to like him much.
No, she'd told him, her smile chilly, but I always know where to find you. Don't I, Justin?
Stung, he'd gaped. I have to work a lot, you know that! I haven't reached tenure! You know I'm doing it for the both of us!
Oh, she'd said, leaning closer, as if she enjoying proximity while twisting the knife into him, that's not what I'm talking about. Even when you're not working, I'm not the first person you seek out, am I? You're always with her, Justin. You're at work, or your'e with Alex. Has it ever occurred to you that that isn't normal?
She's my sister!
Exactly. Your own sister, Justin. It's not normal.
Juliet's parting words still throb in his ears.
I can't do this. It's not 're just not what I need.
Besides, I think we both know... Justin can still visualize her pink lips, twisted into an unkind smile around the protruding fangs. I think we both know that you're looking for something else.
I think we both know what it is.
Above and behind him on the wall, the mysterious words of the ancient alchemical text seem to float like a caption. The accidental chemical reaction had still been working, apparently, when they left, because now all the words of the spell are visible... but he still doesn't understand them. It's the third thing that's been keeping him from sleep, or food, or rest: Juliet's absence from his life, Alex's presence in it, and the alchemical mystery hovering above his head and in his heart.
There is no light, but what lives in the Sunne;
There is no Sunne, but which is twice begott;
Nature and Arte the Parents first begonne:
By Nature 'twas, but Nature perfects not.
Arte then what Nature left in hand doth take,
And out of One a Twofold worke doth make.
A Twofold worke doth make, but such a worke
As doth admitt Division none at all
(See here wherein the Secret most doth lurke)
Unlesse it be a Mathematicall.
It must be Two, yet make it One and One,
And you do take the way to make it None.
Lo here the Primar Secret of this Arte,
Contemne it not but understand it right,
Who faileth to attaine this formost part,
Shall never know Artes force nor Natures might.
Nor yet have power of One and One so mixt,
To make by One fixt, One unfixid fixt.
It makes no sense. Justin's a scientist, just as much as he is a Wizard. He's been trying to work out exactly what happened that day, to understand it so he can recreate it, contain it, can study it until it makes sense. But he's had no luck in that, either. And the archaic texts he's dug up, the stuff about alchemy and spirit and love as a magical element, those are less than unhelpful.
He'd even appealed to Crumbs, making a visit to the old Wizard, who was retired but still in touch with his former student, the question couched in terms of pure scientific curiosity, as something he'd run across in his research. (Not entirely a lie, actually.)
"Well," the Ancient had mused, stroking his whiskers, "The most literal interpretation of Alchemy, as you must know, Justin, is the transmutation, or the changing, of lead into gold."
They'd been seated in Crumbs' study, teacups and a tray of cookies before them. The coffee table was carved with rune symbols, and Justin lowered his gaze to trace them with his fingers. He felt oddly schoolboyish, now that he was here with the very Wizard who'd bestowed his powers on him, not even a year ago. He felt-shy. Self-consciousness crept up his spine.
"What about...", he'd hesitated, "Spiritual Alchemy? The one that defines..." he coughed, "certain emotional states as magical elements?"
"Ah, that." Crumbs had stirred a third of fourth spoonful of sugar into his tea, making Justin wince. "Well, all Alchemy is about change, Justin. The uniting of two imperfect things to create one perfect whole. Rather than lead into gold, the other kind of alchemy leads to the perfection... the purification... of the essence of a man, Justin. Or a Wizard, as the case may be. Uniting, as it were, the mysteries of the material and the spiritual. The mind and the heart." Crumbs waved his hand in the air. "Et cetera, et cetera. Would you like a little more tea?"
"No thank you, Sir," Justin had murmured demurely, his brain working furiously.
Crumbs continued, "I mean, it's a fascinating idea, Justin. But it's a myth, of course. Never been done. Where did you say you came across it?"
"Er, in some alchemical texts I found in my research, " Justin had lied, growing more uneasy by the moment. "Listen, Professor Crumbs: Could... do you think Alchemy could be used on... I don't know, two people at once?"
Crumbs had helped himself to a cookie. "I suppose, in theory."
"What do you think would happen to them?"
The old man had seemed to consider. "I suppose it would still increase their power, especially if they were part of the Wizard World to begin with..
"But it wouldn't hurt them?"
Crumbs thought for a moment. "Hurt them, no. But because the nature of Alchemy is to unite to disparate chemical or magical substances, it might unite them in some way..."
Justin had paled then. "Into one person, you mean?"
But Crumbs shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that. You're being too literal. It's a spiritual alchemy we're talking about, and deals in the immaterial... no, if such a thing could be done, it would potentially unite them at a heart or spirit level... making them extremely powerful, but they'd need to be, well, together, in order to make it work. United physically and spiritually. That's why the allegorical text associates it with true love... or, as you called it, an emotional state." A smile ghosted across the old man's face. "Any prolonged separation would be extremely painful, making ordinary life difficult for one or both. But..."
"But?"
"But it's an extremely unlikely scenario. For the alchemy to work in the first place, the two people would have to be extraordinarily well-suited - they'd need to be perfect opposites and perfectly matched.. what mortals call "soulmates"." He'd peered at Justin. "That does happen, you know. But it's extremely rare. Usually, it's just a case of wishful thinking." He sips his tea, and tries to look wise. "Justin... is something the matter between you and Juliet?"
"No, of course not!" Justin said, too quickly. "Um, but if that chemical reaction actually did take place... just for sake of scientific inquiry, of course... what do you think would happen to the two people? Theoretically?"
Crumbs peers at him. Justin knows the old man is much cannier than he lets on, and he tries to think innocent thoughts. "Hard to say, Russo," Crumbs murmurs. "Almost anything could happen. Improbable magic. Immense power. Complete immolation. You know what they say, my dear boy: Magic does what it wants."
The memory of his chat with Crumbs clears, and Justin groans in his half-sleep.
Magic does what it wants.
For the first time since he can remember, he's been completely abandoned by his twin allies, science and reason.
And he's so very, very tired. He's maybe drooling a little. Can't be bothered to wake up and find out.
It isn't his fault, he thinks, dreamily, head buried on his arms. He's haunted. He's haunted by the sound of Juliet's voice, shouting over the sound of the rain, to tell him that she doesn't love him anymore. He's haunted by the image of Alex, her face lit by the cauldron and dancing with shadows. There are so many shadows, these days. The mystery of the alchemical text throbs in his head like a fever-dream, as if he's been infected by its cryptic prose.
He really should get up and go home... and he will. In a minute. Honest. He's going to rest his eyes, no more than that... for just a little longer. Surrounded by a darkness he doesn't understand, he sleeps. And dreams.
("Promise me we'll find normal people, Justin?")
("We aren't normal people.")
Magic does what it wants.
Justin shivers in his sleep.
A/N: Because I'm not a plagiarist - The Alchemical spell on the wall is a poem called Aenigma Philosophicium, written by D.D. W. Bedman a long time ago. You can find it on the alchemywebsite, if you're curious. And if you're wondering about Alchemy in general, which is fascinating stuff, Wiki is much more straightforward. But don't expect to find a lot of direct correlation with Justin and Alex's particular brand of mad alchemy on either website... I made a lot of that stuff up.
C.