Chapter 23: You Can't Do It Alone
Preface: I'm going to be changing the placeholder names of Willow's fathers because one of the storyboarders referred to them as Harvey and Gilbert. Harvey is the dad with glasses and Gilbert is the one with the beard. Hope that makes it clear!
Grom awakens tonight. This night. It yearns for the fears of the inhabitants of the Boiling Isles. For many years it has been sealed away, but now after absorbing twice the amount of fears, it's power grows, along with it's hunger… It notices the distress of two young witches. Their fears were complimentary, and as such…
Why not use them to its advantage?
The starts sparkled a bit brighter this night, and the ride to Hexside felt just felt all too drawn out. It seems her fathers were taking their time. She can't blame them. This would be the last time they'd ever be able give her a ride to Grom, as next year it would be the next line of students to carry that burden.
She watches as the horizon twinkled as she thought. It's so late, she could fall asleep right then.
It was the first Grom night where she never had to worry that people would dunk punch on her the moment she walked in. Which eases her nerves just a little bit, as she isn't afraid her outfit would be wrecked. She opted for one similar to Luz's last year. A yellow suit with a skirt, a pink pendant, and a white corsage and heels. Just for that little boost of confidence.
They stop just outside the front gate.
"Okay. Are you sure you don't want us to escort you to the gym?" Gilbert asks as he adjusts the collar of Willow's shirt .
Willow shakes her head. "No. I'm good."
"I trust you won't get yourself into trouble. If you forgot anything or need anything feel free to just catch a crow. Okay?" Harvey adds.
Willow nods, and her fathers hug her tight, tuck her hair behind her ear, and bid her goodbye.
7:30 pm
Inside the gym, high schoolers wore their pretty suits and handsome dresses. Many near the long table of food, and already helping themselves to some eyeball pasta. Not Willow though.
Instead, she stood next to Luz as she adjusted Gus's bow tie. And as Luz gives a solid nod after Gus inevitably asks, "Does it look okay?", Willow is left hoping that Luz would do the same for her.
Because right now, she feels like a mess.
She needs any sort of reassurance to get her out of deep hole of regret and worry she buried herself in last night.
Maybe she should've faced her own battle.
The doors swing open. A large thud. But it's silent. Students turn their heads. There she stood. Confident. Unphased. As calm as she always was. Boscha.
There was still two hours before the event starts, and Willow was stuck. She doesn't know whether to talk to her or to leave her alone. To thank her or take her place. But when Boscha looks at her, with eyes that look like they were ready to face death, it was no wonder Willow could only bite her lip in silence.
Just 6 feet away from the Grom queen as she quickly downs some pink punch. So quick, some spilled down the corners of her lip onto her maroon suit and staining the bright yellow tie she wore. She opted for a suit to hide any wounds. Just in case.
Boscha notices the sudden moisture on her chest, along with Willow staring from the corner of her eyes. She turns her head quickly before she has the chance to look again.
She's too ashamed.
7:45 pm
They go their separate ways.
Willow uses Gus as a distraction from her own thoughts, and instead focuses on the ordeal he had been planning for Mattholomule. But in the back of her mind, Boscha was still there, along with many other bitter things attached. All loosely tied together in a bundle of negativity and frustration, but they all revolve around herself in the end.
"I can do this I can do this," Gus repeats to himself like a quietly broken record. Amity pats him on the back and reassures him that everything is going to be okay, all the while Willow sat there quietly as she enjoyed some finger food. Though of course she actively avoided the candy, as they reminded her of lady bugs. With their vicious red color and black dots that feel like eyes. Stalking you.
Eyes…
Looking at her.
A bead of sweat drips down her face onto her palm, and part of her wonders if it could've just been a tear. Everything's too hazy. She didn't get enough sleep last night. Like every night.
She's always done that. Every time she's upset, she cries into her pillow for hours. It's really stupid, but she hasn't done it in so long. Not until last night.
She's overreacting, she knows it, but she can't bring herself to confront the issue.
What issue? I don't see any issues.
8:00 pm
It's already 8.
"Hey Willow, enjoying yourself so far? You got out of grom duty," Luz says.
"Haha uhm… Yeah."
No she isn't. She isn't enjoying herself at all. Because how can she? All she can do is pace and shiver anxiously as Boscha's been eyeing her this whole time. What can she do? Is she mad?
"Do I approach her?" The words slip out of her mouth.
"Sure! She looks like she's been dying to talk to you." Luz affirms. She puts her arm around Willow affectionately. As she was about to raise her other hand to wave Willow swats in and grabs it, making them bonk heads.
"NO."
"It seems you two are having fun," Amity jokes from behind them.
"Hehehe! Amity!" Luz hugs her, and a deep blush forms on Amity's cheeks. "My awesome girlfriend!"
Amity giggles into Luz's shoulder. She looks at her with her hands still on Luz's shoulders. "This is your second Grom night… Are you worried at all?"
Luz shrinks down and droops her head down low. She whispers something incoherent. Willow can't make out the words. But Amity grabs Luz's hand and walks her outside of the gym. From what she can tell, it was serious… But Willow felt like she would be intruding if she followed.
So she didn't.
She sits there all by herself. Some students come up to her to ask for any accessories, and which she happily obliges—but other than that, silence.
8:25 pm
The show's starting soon enough, and Willow has already drank through three glasses of punch. She's lucky there's no alcohol in it. Otherwise this story may have gone in a totally different direction.
She observes Gus preparing for his speech, and his surprise for Matt. She'd yearn but… She doesn't feel like being more upset than she already is.
It's starting soon. Five more minutes.
Just. Talk to her.
She quickly scans the gym. The students were already picking out seats. Luz and Amity haven't returned yet, and Boscha's nowhere to be found…
She's probably outside preparing her entrance. The other two though…
I hope they're okay.
8:30 pm
"Hello Hexside! It's now the event you've all been waiting for! The one and only Boschaaa Ferburn—" Gus points to the double doors across the stage.
Boscha steps out ferociously, her heels so fierce they echo across the large room.
She strides forward as weapons reveal themselves. She grabs a small battle golden axe with a dark red handle. Something she can wield and throw.
The floor opens, and she descends, the same way Willow's heart sinks in her chest. She was rooting for her deeply…
Inside the hole, the floor pulsed. Disgusting mounds of dirt emerged before they transformed into a black and green ooze. The stench was sickening. Like death had came and entered Boscha's nostrils. But that wasn't it yet.
This was the moment.
She'll make it up to Willow for hurting her. By doing this for her. For being a selfish person.
A long appendage grabs her by the ankle, and her eyes glow a faint white.
The world phases out into a bright white as it absorbs her fears, insecurities, and guilt. The ground no longer it's old dusky olive color. Instead, around her, there was no one. Not a single thing in sight except for a glowing blue floor and a crystal white sky. Familiar colors. Ones she's only seen in dreams.
The emptiness, the lack of senses, the sudden quiet and deep regret. Part of her believes she already died.
She looks for any sign. Someone to latch onto. Out comes a harmless glowing butterfly. No details. It was as if a blank canvas took the outline of a delicate creature.
Her eyes lock onto it's subtle beauty. It entices her, until it turns into the image of people looking at her with disgust and contempt.
One, two, tens, hundreds. Since when were they all here?
She falls to the floor, and a sharp pain breaches into her elbow. She panics, there's too much happening. Too many people laughing, hating, or belittling her. The aching pain as something drips from her arm, but she can't see what it is.
"Uh oh folks! It seems Boscha is in a bit of a predicament!" Gus announces outside of Boscha's fuzzy perception. This was normal stuff. Worst comes to worst, the teachers will butt in. But he's seen much worse before. So it's no cause for alarm.
Because he doesn't realize that what was happening right now could very much end Boscha's life right then and there.
"Boscha! Can you hear us?" Gus asks. "Come on folks, let's make some noise!"
The audience roars and howls, mainly in lighthearted and joyful energy. But Willow is on the edge of her seat, her legs just begging to jump up.
To the audience observing her, it looked like she suffocating. Grom had completely taken over face, and she could barely walk an inch.
Instincts surge in Willow's chest as she feels the need to protect her, to hold her and make sure that she's okay. But part of her is angry and frustrated. This is what Boscha wanted, after all. It's what she got for not listening to her warnings…
But that's selfish thinking. And since when has Willow ever listened to her thoughts?
Boscha whines under Grom's grasp. She squirms and shakes her head desperately as blood drips down from her elbow. The axe she carried only served to make everything worse. Willow dashes through and leaps into the hole.
With a large swooping gesture she casts branches and vines. They grab Grom. But as she tugs just that little bit, Boscha's head follows. It's not gonna work.
Willow mutters curses under her breath. She grabs the axe with her vines and throws it across the room to prevent further injury.
Grom retaliates. It loosens itself around Willow's grip around snakes it's way up her arms to her neck and eyes.
Willow breathes. Don't be scared don't be scared don't be—
White. Everything is… white? and something… No. Things are crawling up her leg. She jolts. Her blood rushes… She's… Angry. Why is she angry?
Boscha whines behind her. Willow turns her head, and she's there, begging on her knees.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Boscha knows. She knows people hate her. She's a nuisance. The worst thing that could ever happen to anyone's life. Especially her family's. If she could've just gotten one chance to prove herself. To make it up to everyone. She would. Please. Please. I promise.
The loud buzzing of butterfly flaps disorient her, but the echo of Willow's voice phase into her mind. A sound so faint but familiar.
"Boscha! Boscha!" Willow yells. In frustration and contempt. She doesn't quite feel like herself.
The butterflies flutter out of Willow's way. There stood a bright blue projection, with only Willow's green eyes giving away the fact that this was actually her. How much of her own words could she control? Even she didn't know.
"W…Willow?" Boscha says.
"I…" Willow stops. She breathes large breaths and musters up everything she wants to say… But when she speaks, the words don't come out the way she intended them to.
"I hate you. Why are you like this?" Her voice echoes, the words slit through Boscha's ego harder than any axe could ever.
Willow grumbles in frustration. But not at Boscha. Not that she knows. From Boscha's view, Willow couldn't even muster the amount of pent-up hate she's been feeling.
"You are a jerk. You're inconsiderate."
Internally, Willow begs for it to stop. I don't mean it! I really don't!
"I never deserved any of those things everyone said to me. I never deserved to eat lunch outside because I'd be ridiculed if I went inside. Especially not from you."
Boscha slumps forward on her hands in guilt. It's true. She deserves every last thing said to her.
"I'm so sorry."
Willow halts. Those words… She never expected to hear them. "You're… Sorry."
"I'm… so sorry." Boscha breathes. She struggles to hold herself back from sobbing into a mess of words as butterflies—reflections of every person she's ever wronged, every mistake she has ever done—consumes her. "Please. Don't leave. I promise I can be better please"
The butterflies inch their way up Boscha's waist and blanket her, with her right eye being the last thing Willow sees before she disappears; along with the fucked up mindscape Grom conjured up.
The world comes back, and the only thing Willow could hear was the buzzing of butterflies as they wrapped Boscha up into a cocoon. No friends, no contact with anyone. Grometheus, with it's monsterous form holds it up proudly, as a threat to all that witness; and to tease Willow as well.
Willow's head melts in anger. She just broke the heart of someone who was already trying. Trying to be better. Someone who could've just had a second chance but got denied because of expectations. It wasn't Willow's idea. It wasn't in her control. She didn't want this. She never wanted to hurt anyone's feelings.
And now this cuck is shoving it in her face?
Her eyes turn white, and she loses control. Not to Grom, not to anybody else.
A large bundle of branches encase Willow, cracking and crumbling, but dense enough that you can barely see her in there. Vines burst through the gymnasium's floor from it's base and blast through Grom's form and wind all throughout the room.
Gus yelps, "UH, IT SEEMS LIKE WE HAVE A SITUATION."
The students panic. They jump off from their seats and run—but the vines entangle them. Some are blocked from the exits, and one unlucky Mattholomule trips over into the a bundle of thorny shrubs.
"Guys we—" Gus drops his mic, and it causes a loud pranging.
I hate this. I hate this.
Grom hisses. It drops Boscha and sprints. It bites and cracks at the dense bundle of sticks encasing her Willow, but they only grew more.
Boscha falls; her third eye colliding with the ground. She groans as the pain irritates and disorients her, and she sees Grom attacking, and the gym covered in plants.
She sprints to her axe. She places a fire glyph on it and throws. It slices Grom's leg off. Grom stumbles angrily. It should buy her some time.
The bundle of sticks kindle into a blaze.
"Willow!" Boscha yells out. "Can you hear me?"
Willow screams and thumps. Her hands curl up into tight fists as she yells at herself for fucking it up.
"Please calm down!"
"How can I? After everything I've done?!" Willow's voice echoes over and over as she sobs.
Boscha conjures up a vine and grabs Willow's waist. "Please! I'm so sorry!" She reaches for the axe and hacks her way through the branches. The thorns cutting through and scratching her. She grabs Willow's hand.
"Hey—hey everything's fine okay? I promise."
Willow huffs. The warmth of guilt smears across her cheeks and she can't help but mumble, "I'm s..sorry."
Willow softens down, and the branches lessen.
"Just look at me, focus on me."
"Mmhmm…" Willow whines. She sniffles and nods.
As the branches decrease she finds herself losing balance. She stumbles forward into Boscha, and she catches her. Her legs feel like nothing but jelly, and her eyes still struggle to focus. She's so tired…
They take a moment to catch their breath. Both still on the floor, with Willow snuggled tightly into Boscha.
Except Grom doesn't have time to wait. With a sway in it's step it charges at them. Shrieking and yelling.
"Willow?"
"Mhm?" Willow hums.
In a low and gentle voice, Boscha replies, "Please."
With a shaky breath, Willow forms the tiniest spell circle. The thornvault smashes into Grometheus, and it splatters all at once.
After that horrifying display of strength, the pieces of Grom retreat back into the earth. Awaiting the day it can return next year.
Gus sees this and as he crawls through the ground in the hopes it won't all blow up in his face he finds his microphone and taps it a few times. "UHHH Well well well folks it seems Grom has been slain again! Let's give it up for our Grom queens! Woo!"
He claps, and the students start flocking back in; they clap and cheer and King throws confetti.
All the while, Bump puts Willow and Boscha on the strict NEVER ASSIGN THEIR BLOODLINE TO BE GROM ROYALTY. EVER. list.
The party continues, they all celebrate, luckily Willow's vines completely missed the food because it seems they tend to target people specifically? Which is… Something Willow might have to look into later. But for now, it doesn't matter. Grom is gone, everything's over with it…
Well, mostly everything.
Outside of school, on a ledge near the greenhouse, Boscha is by herself, honestly too ashamed that she made a fool of herself once again. She holds her bandaged elbow close to her chest as she feels weak and too vulnerable. She could feel the odd stares as other students wonder why they won't just put a healing glyph on her when she was inside.
She was so ashamed of being scared to be alone again back there… But now here she is, isolating herself once again.
Boscha sighs. Her suit was wrecked, her hair is disheveled. The party isn't over until 12, but she already wants to go home.
Willow approaches her bashfully. Her eyes linger on Boscha. From her 2 inch heels, to her open jacket with holes that showcase the wounds she got, and finally, her bruised eye.
"Hey uhm…" Willow hides her hands behind her and puffs out her chest.
Just… Try your best Willow.
"You okay?" Willow asks. Just ease into it.
Boscha sighs. "I don't know myself to be honest…"
"Well, if you don't mind…" She extends her hand to Boscha. It's covered in scratches. "May we?"
Boscha looks at said hand curiously. Outside? With her? No music…?
She takes it delicately, her fingers shaking as they slide on top of hers. They're both cold, and neither of them knew if it was from the cold outside or the unease they felt. Willow guides Boscha just outside the door. The loud music that was blasting in the gym was only a faint suggestion of sound as it got muffled through multiple walls. With each drum beat being the loudest thing they can hear.
Willow sheepishly places her hand on Boscha's shoulder, and the other on her waist. So Boscha follows.
"Wouldn't you want to dance with your friends?"
"We're friends aren't we?" Willow replies.
"Uhm… I guess, we are."
They dance to the gentle beats that even the crunching of the grass was louder. But it didn't matter at the moment, as their thoughts were the loudest thing going through their mind.
"So about earlier…" Willow says. Her firm grip moistens from sweat. "You know I… I did mean some stuff I said back there."
Boscha holds her breath. Her eyes linger on Willow's for just a second longer than what would've been appropriate. Willow appreciates how soft they can look, even with the black eye. She wants nothing more than to make sure that Boscha is okay.
Willow nuzzles into the crook of Boscha's neck. Her soft breaths dampening her messy suit.
"I'm sorry," Boscha mutters a soft and breathy apology, a low grumble that comforts Willow's ear. "I'm nothing like you, I envy you so much."
Their slow steps stop as Boscha hugs Willow tighter. She lowers her chin, and her nose snuggles into the side of Willow's head. It sends Willow's emotions through the roof. Comfort, anxiety, love. Her mind is as clear as ever after everything that happened. But she still struggles to put said emotions into words.
"I want to be someone that deserves the same kindness you give me."
"You don't need to deserve me. I want you," Willow replies, and she feels Boscha smile into her cheek.
She admires her. She can't exactly feel the same way Willow ever will about her… But she has her own ways of love. If only she notices at this moment. Their bodies pressed against the other's. The constant wanting. She yearns for Willow, just not like how Willow yearns for her.
Her feelings are confusing, she gets angry at herself when she hurts her, and deep down she still feels like a selfish person. She's envious, self-centered. That's something she can't change… But maybe, if she feels light now, then they can do this again…
"Earlier, when we were fighting Grom, when you spoke I knew how much you actually meant it. And I…" Boscha lifts her head, her voice now clearer. Willow's heart jumps in her throat.
"Liked it." She continues.
"Huh?" Willow scrunches her face. She looks at Boscha to see if she's joking.
Boscha looks away with a light blush in her cheeks. "Feelings. They're confusing. I never know how to approach them. But, when we talk everything becomes clearer. Do you feel the same?"
Willow nods. "Yeah!"
Boscha instantly lights up at Willow's laugh; so smooth, so giggly. So small.
"I wish I was like you," She mumbles to herself, but she didn't mean it in a jealous way.
"What was that?" Willow asks.
"I said I like you."
Author's Note:
Thanks for all the support! I'd put my fanart here but it won't let me, so have the link instead (replace the 🔥 with .)
imgur🔥com/a/2vUQWPa
See ya tomorrow :D