a/n: ayyy i told ya'll i would be back thank you for waiting! my url stuff for social medias for oc stuff and nova's fashion will be on my profile if you're interested, this chapter will mainly be me setting things up so bear with me pls
tw: main character and her cat dies for a bit, they ok tho just a lil crispy
CHAPTER ONE: SUPERNOVA GIRL
People tend to forget that to be reborn, you first have to die.
And death…It wasn't as peaceful as some may think, at least not for her. She can't speak for the rest of the universe.
There had always been some morbid curiosity about death she had kept to herself; about the ways she'd prefer to die, and the after part.. the neverending curiosity on where she would go when she died.
Despite being raised in a religious home, she had never found faith in a higher power or anything else, not truly. Sure, she held the belief that aliens existed, some days she even believed in the supernatural - how could she not, with how big the universe got everyday, it would be impossible not to believe there was other humanoid lifeforms out there - and in her darkest moments she believed that some God existed, or maybe all of them.
But she never had much faith in anything or anyone.
She blames growing up as a queer kid in an overly religious home that was decidedly not overly accepting. Trauma did things to kids that lasted them well into their adulthood. She had not come out of that house unscathed.
The point, and there was a point to this, was that she had thought about death before this.
She thought of saving someone, which might be unlikely given her anxiety and meek personality that made her keep her head down. But she'd like to think she'd be brave when it would count.
When she's feeling optimistic about making it past thirty, she thought she would want to die peacefully from old age, holding the hand of her last love.
Her thoughts on where she would go when she died varied with her moods, sometimes she'll think of all the afterlife's in fictional universes.
As a teenager she had been the type of kid to be fascinated with mythology and stories, both real and fictional. And with them came many theories of death and the afterlife.
It always varied with each religion and culture and sometimes it varied within each of them. And as time goes on, so do the theories.
…. At least no one can say her imagination is lacking.
She wasn't a perfect person by any means, but she didn't think she was horrible enough to go to any version of hell. Or good enough for heaven. The idea of being reborn both horrified and fascinated her.
But she could still never settle on a place she'd like to go when she died, her indecision might be why she went, where she went, when she finally did kick the bucket.
She never knew she was going to die with only her poor cat for company in a shitty apartment building in downtown Chicago. She thought she had time to get her shit together, maybe finally work up the nerve to visit her parents, have that movie marathon she'd been putting off with her roommate.
She never even got to say I love you to anyone other than her family and friends, or have kids, or even decide if she wanted to have them.
But life, or death really, never ends up completely how people think it'd turn out.
If you haven't figured it out yet this is the story of how she died - the first time anyway.
Going to bed was hard, and waking up was even harder for her, and tonight had been no different. Eventually though, she stirred. It wasn't the sounds or the nearly unbearable heat, but the smell that woke her.
Had she left the stove on?
She sat up, head foggy and eyes more blurry than usual, until she found her glasses and slipped them on her face. Her relaxed breathing stuttered when she noticed that smoke was clouding up her room more than her horrible eyesight ever could. Smoke usually means fire, right? Please fuck, fuck, she hoped she was wrong and her impulsive roommate had just decided to randomly buy a fucking smoke machine.
Tripping out from underneath her sheets, she almost left out the door right away, but … just in case, she quickly grabbed her phone and her satchel with most of her personal information in it before braving opening the door. Checking her phone, she saw that it was 4:03 am, but she had no signal.
What was the point in a phone if it wasn't going to fucking work in an emergency?
She let out a wheezing cough when more smoke came into the room, and hurriedly covered her mouth and nose with the first piece of fabric she found, which was a kitchen towel she had left on the back of the couch.
Her roommate would have folded it and put it back.
"Hello?" she risked taking the covering off her face to yell out for someone, regretting doing so immediately as coughs racked her body.
Where the hell was her roommate? Her door was still open from where she had left in a hurry to a party, one that she had personally been too fucking tired to go to. And when she hurriedly went inside the room to double check, she was only greeted by Merlin. Their pet kitty and local menace.
She picked him up, trying to keep a cool head as she tried to comfort him and keep any more smoke from getting into her lungs. Her eyes burned from it, and from trying not to cry.
She quickly abandoned looking for her absent roommate and ran to her apartment door, touching the door knob only to yelp in pain, snatching her now red hand back. It throbbed like a son of a whore.
She looked down and could only stare in horror at the fire slowly burning her door down, her body shook or maybe that was Merlin. She didn't know. She could barely think anymore.
Who knows, maybe some hot firemen will rescue them?
Rushing to her firescape proved worthless when the damn window wouldn't unlock.
She wasn't surprised their asshole landlord hadn't fixed it yet, and it wasn't like the goddamn thing was stable anyway.
Out of sheer frustration, she dropped the kitchen towel and grabbed the first thing she could find and threw it at the window with a scream.
Sadly it was just a custom made funko pop she had spent way too much money on and barely made a dent on the window. Anything else that was heavy enough to break glass was either blocked from her view by a thick cloud of smoke, or being engulfed in flame.
She silently cursed her dumb fuck luck.
She picked up the funko pop, holding onto an miniature sized Bonnie Bennett as she sank to the floor, utterly defeated.
She couldn't even hear the fire truck through her depressive thoughts, especially not through the screams she could hear next door, and definitely not through the smoke now filling her lungs and making her vision hazy.
"I'm going to die, oh my god I'm gonna die a 21 year old fucking virgin, can you believe my fucking luck." She said to her poor fucking cat, his green eyes bright on hers.
"See you in the next life," she said, her throat burning, not knowing how quite literal her words were soon going to be.
The sexy firemen sadly did not save her stupid ass, not with her lungs filled with smoke.
Sometimes she thought, maybe if she had held that cloth to her face longer, or maybe if she had gotten the window open with something heavier than a doll, it could have kept her alive longer but it was too late for what if's. She was officially deader than Edward Cullen.
That's the story of how she died, but this next one isn't about that.
Not quite at least.
No, this one is how she came back from the dead.
Freaky right?
Somebody call the Winchesters!
She felt odd. Like taking sleeping pills and going for a swim in jello odd.
She doesn't know where she is, not truly, but she knows some things. Like, she's not on earth anymore. Maybe not even in the same universe. It's nothing that makes her think that in particular, like a road sign that says; 'Next Stop: Alternate Fucking Universe'.
It's just a feeling, like everything that used to be, everything she used to be, shifted.
It's dark all the time, and she doesn't really have a body to move, it just feels like her conscience is her only existence.
Lastly, she knows someone else is in this place with her. She doesn't know how she knows these things, only that she can 'feel' someone in this place with her, not physically but mentally.
Knowing it wasn't her earth didn't tell her jackshit. She could be the sand on Mars or a ghost in purgatory for all she knew. She doesn't know where exactly the hell she is — well, she's hoping the hell part isn't literal, because this might actually be her own personal hell. It was so boring.
Enough time had passed before she started thinking this truly was hell.
Maybe this was punishment for being a bad friend? A coward? Or maybe not taking part in enough activism in her life?
Or maybe it was the almond milk, or chocolate?
Goddamnit did her unethical consumption get her shot into hell? Did capitalism fuck her all the way over into the afterlife?
She gets genuinely distressed by the thought and imagines punching at her cage. She wasn't expecting to hit anything or have anything to hit with, but holy shit she hit something.
Over the course of what feels like a whole other lifetime but is only months, she slowly forgets things. More than usual.
Some small, like her favorite color.
Some big, like her own name. Did she even have one?
The only thing she remembers with clarity inside whatever purgatory she's in, is that she died.
She loses track of time and soon thinks this is what death is.
A boring and dark place with nothing but your fading thoughts to keep you entertained. She would cry if she had eyes to cry with.
Then suddenly, one day, air fills up her lungs for the first time in months and she cries in sheer relief. Only to pause when she hears what sounds like a baby wailing.
What the fuck?
Before she could question it more, a strange being picked up by big hands cleaning off the jello-like substance from her sensitive body. Her body felt like pins and needles after being without one for so long.
She peeled opened her eyes, expecting to shake hands with JC, or maybe Hades, only to see a big blur of blue and white.
The sudden light nearly blinded her eyes so much she closed them again.
Okay, so she knows she has shit vision, but it's never been this bad. And it feels really fucking odd being picked up, because she hasn't been touched in so long. And she hasn't been picked up by anyone in even longer, since she was a kid —
Wait a fucking minute.
Bullfuckingshit.
She started to cry again, much louder than before, the baby's cry copied her perfectly, too perfectly.
So, reincarnation, very real. And here she was reborn again like Jesus fucking Christ, as a goddamn baby. Her head hurt from the realization.
When she cries again, this time she hears another baby's cry syncing with hers.
And she assumes it was the person who was with her, in what she now knows was someone else's womb.
Which means she's a twin, someone who she assumes a nurse is holding her trying to soothe her, cooing, but it only further irritated her migraine. This was too weird even for her. Fuck why did she have to have enough cognitive function to remember her birth.
Like a goddamn cigarette, she's passed off to someone else, someone who she assumes is her new parent, because next thing she knows she's looking at the blurry image of a woman.
"Hello, there sweetheart," she said in greeting, a slight wonder in her voice, her fingers brushing across her small cheeks.
She still can't believe she's a baby, an infant, she just popped outta a previously stranger's vagina. She might be open minded to strange things, but what?
She needed a memory wipe, asap.
"She needs a name, did you decide on a name, honey?" A deep voice interrupted her crisis. The baby in question was now too busy wondering about her twin. It was too quiet. She felt unsafe without their familiar presence by her side.
"Yes, I believe I did. What about you, any ideas for our youngest daughter?" The woman's voice breaks her out of her panic, calming down slightly at the mention of her twin.
Name picking meant they were alive, right? Right. No need to give her fragile baby brain two anxiety attacks.
"I did." The man says but doesn't elaborate, causing the woman to laugh tiredly.
"Well, aren't you going to tell me our daughter's name?" The new mother teases her husband. They sound happy, she's never had the whole.. both parents experience.
Maybe this will be a second chance for a happy family.
It's weird being a baby yet fully comprehending the words spoken. Her migraine worsened. Her thoughts are cut off by the name of her twin being announced.
"Bonnie."
"Bonnie." The one who birthed her repeated, testing the name on her tongue.
That's an odd name. Better than her old name, she thought, though she still doesn't actually remember it.
Bonnie.
Bonnie, like Bonnie and Clyde.
Or like —
"Bonnie Sheila and Nova Amelia Bennett." The woman says, voice filled with love. "Our babies, we did this, Rudy, we made them."
"They're perfect," Rudy, apparently, said, sounding just as in awe of them.
They were pretty cool huh?
Hm well that name sounds familiar, Bonnie, she swears up and down she knows the last name. But every time she thinks she has the answer it slips from her grasp, like trying to cup sand in her hands.
All she knows is that the name sends a small wave of terror down her spine.
Nova, her new name is Nova, which is just as odd and unique as the name Bonnie.
Her parents must be hippies, that was the obvious logical conclusion.
Her old name is lost on her, so she'll just have to adapt to this new one, it's fine she's an adaptable person.
Wasn't she?
She wasn't sure who she was anymore, but maybe she could be if she wanted to.
It was a new life, new her after all.
Being a baby with the scattering memories of a past life was both bliss, and complete torture.
She didn't have to do anything, like go to school, or get a life sucking job. But she couldn't do anything for herself, like feed herself or wipe. She had to be burped for fucks sake.
But what was even harder, was trying to see these strange people in roles that had been previously filled with other people.
She's forgetting who they were exactly, and what they looked like, but the complex feeling remains. She clings to those feelings for dear life, scared that those too would fade.
Unsurprisingly, her sister is the one she adjusts to first. It's easier to accept that Bonnie is her twin sister, because even though she had siblings in her life — she remembered that at least — she never had a younger sibling, yet alone a twin.
They are going to wreak havoc on the world, that is a fact.
Despite all her memories that burned her tiny brain to think about, all she could do was be a baby. Soil her diapers, drool, forget important stuff, and talk the secret language of: baby.
She had settled into an easy routine, eat, be bathed, cuddled by family, tummy time with Bonnie and children whose names she never remembered the next day. Rinse and repeat.
Then something happened, she's not sure what it was, but weeks went by with her new parents upset and grandmother tense.
They all started checking up on them more, until one day her new mom held both of them for a long moment, and then left.
And never came back.
She finally cried after so many days of being without her mother, and it wasn't long before her twin joined her. They cried for someone that was no longer in the same town, let alone in the same home. And no one, not even their dad could console them.
Nova would have cried longer, kept hold of that overwhelming feeling of anger and confusion for longer.
If it weren't for the fact that, after her tears had dried, the last bits of her memory left.
As the years passed them by, the twins became even closer now that they were able to properly communicate with each other.
Their father however grew distant, it was as though he was attempting to bury himself in work to make up for the absence of his wife.
Grams tried to be there for them as much as possible, especially when the absence and neglect of both parents became all too obvious. Friends, neighbors and sometimes even Rudy's side of the family pitched in here and there when Grams had to work.
But even with all the neighbors in the world, sometimes the twins felt like the only people they really could rely on were each other.
Playing outside was fun.
The boys were stinky and loud, but Nova liked going to the Gilberts' house. They were nice, and they always had her favorite ice cream. Mint chocolate chip.
Nova scrunched her nose when the fabric from her pink fairy godmother hat tickled her nose. It was quickly forgotten as she held her pink skirts, running to catch up to her sister when she was called. She sat down next to a giggling Bonnie at the small table set out for them, away from the adults who were doing adult stuff.
Like drinking funny smelling stuff, talking about old people stuff, and kissing. Ew.
Elena, in her own costume of a really weird mix of a ballerina and a cowgirl, poured apple juice in her plastic teacup.
"Thank you!" She gave Elena a smile that proudly showed her gums. Her front tooth had fallen out last night, and she had woken up to money from the tooth fairy.
She swore to herself she was going to have as much money as the tooth fairy one day!
Nova only giggled when the boys with their water guns passed by, spraying water on her curly black hair. She laughed even louder when Tyler stole a cookie from an upset Caroline's plate.
"That's no way to treat girls." Mr. Gilbert chided the boys, pouring something in the grill that made the flames get higher —
Nova's laughter was cut off when a splitting pain hit her, like a hammer and nail piercing her brain. She paused in the middle of pouring Elena a cup of milk for her cookies, and instead clutched at her head.
Each hit was harder than the last, until she was quietly crying from the pain.
"Nova? Are you okay, Nova?" Bonnie asked worriedly.
The girls started to ask her what's wrong all at once, but she didn't know, she could barely think or do anything but let out a few whimpers. One by one all the adults notice her laughter had been replaced by her hiccups and tears.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"Can you breathe in and out for me, sweetheart?"
She saw Grams and Mr. Gilbert next to her chair, through the blurry tears in her eyes. She tried to speak, to breathe, but she fainted from the pain before she could say anything.
"Nova!"
An entire forgotten life from before flashes beneath her closed eyelids.
She had always felt different. Like something was missing something; not a sock or a hair tie, but something inside of her very being.
But this … she wasn't expecting this.
It was like watching TV stuck in fast forward, only the feelings of what she was experiencing— had experienced before, pressed against her heart, until she felt her soul weep.
Everything she had been, the person who was her and yet .. somehow not quite who she was anymore came rushing back to her, one hammer and nail at a time.
She remembered her quite honestly depressing life, and then she remembered the way she died; the fire and smoke surrounding her, the vibrant green feline eyes that bore into her very soul as the fire surrounded them and ate away at everything.
She remembered.
Nova's brown eyes opened to see Grams and Mr. Gilbert hovering above her, her chest felt cold until he lifted the stethoscope from her skin.
"Nova, are you okay?" A young and hesitant Elena Gilbert asked. Elena. Elena Gilbert.
Woo boy, this was gonna be fun.
Okay, maybe fun wasn't the right word.
"I'm fine." Nova tried to reassure everyone who stared at her with worry in their eyes. There was a smile on her face so genuine, she herself half believes her own lie.
Bonnie however, didn't seem to agree with her, if the teary eyed concerned look she kept throwing her way was any indication.
"Seriously? Fainting in the middle of the day is fine?" Caroline asked, sending her a look of disbelief.
"Caroline," Liz chided her daughter, her and her husband helping move the small crowd of kids away — minus Bonnie, who refused to let go of her hand — so they weren't crowding her.
"Hey kiddo, can you do me a favor and follow the light with your eyes?" Grayson said, holding a small flashlight in his hand, the light dulled by the bright sun.
His other hand carefully checked the back of her head for any bumps, for when she hit the ground too suddenly for anyone to catch her.
Nova quietly did as asked, holding onto her sister's hand as she got lost in her thoughts.
She was a previously dead person, surrounded on all sides by people who would all soon eventually die in one way or another.
She tried hard to hold in her tears, hoping Mr. Gilbert would blame her watery eyes on the pain she had been in.
She quietly let him and Grams fuss over her until Mrs. Gilbert walked over, her kind eyes immediately setting Nova at ease.
"I called the ambulance. They're on their way." Miranda said, looking at her with worry in her eyes.
"She seems okay now, but it's better to be safe. I'll run some tests at the hospital," Grayson said, looking at her grandmother, like she wasn't right here — hello? Where was her say in all of this?
She didn't wanna be tested, especially by Mr. Frankenstein.
Nova let go of her sister's hand, getting a worried look in response as she folded her arms and pouted.
"I'm fine really. It was just a headache, Grams— Mr. Gilbert."
She was rudely ignored.
Being so tiny, with such a big brain, was going to be a hassle.
Nova finally laid in her own twin sized bed instead of a hospital bed nearly two days later. Like she had told the rude adults, she was fine. Probably.
Hopefully.
Grams had apparently called dad back home after her little incident, and he quickly took them home, coddling and spoiling them both all day.
If that's what it took for him to finally pay attention to them, maybe she should pass out more often? Eh, she thought that being stuck in a hospital was not worth it.
She couldn't even sleep in her own bed though, her dreams had gotten more creative recently. And so she blinked up at her ceiling, playing with her chipped bubble gum nail polish.
Did this mean she was … super old now?
She didn't feel old. But she didn't think like a normal nine year old either anymore, not always.
It hurt her brain to think about, so she rolled over onto her side and didn't think of it anymore.
She instead watched her sister sleep across the room.
Bonnie Bennett.
Her sister was a character from a television show in a past life.
She had watched her sister suffer and die a lot in another life, before she had even met her.
That hurt her brain to think about too, and it made her wanna cry on top of it, and so she turned over again and shut her eyes. She was now determined to ignore the universe around her.
But still her mind wandered.
Grams had begun to watch her with such knowing eyes after what she was referring to as the incident. Maybe she knew that her granddaughter was an outsider.
But the older woman hadn't said anything to her yet, so she hoped whatever Grams knew, or thought she knew, that it wasn't the truth. She didn't want to imagine what anyone would do if they knew the truth.
She sighed and as quietly as possible got up from her bed. She tiptoed towards her and her sister's shared closet, and grabbed a forgotten journal out. She knew she didn't need to be this quiet, because if Bonnie didn't want to wake up, she wouldn't. She was just that stubborn, even when sleeping.
Nova turned on her night light and grabbed a purple glitter pen from the desk, before she sat back down on her bed. She tapped the pen against her chin, trying to think back on the memories she had seen.
They weren't as painful as before, but some of things she had remembered with startling clarity were already fading like an old memory.
She flipped open the leather bound pages, writing down as much as she could remember about her past self. Halfway in she balled up her paper, remembering it was a journal without a lock, and rewrote everything down in a way that made it seem like she was writing a story.
It was only enough to fill seven pages.
The person she had been… hadn't lived long or fully. She rubbed at her tired eyes and turned the page, and focused on the next thing.
The show. Or at least what had been a show, that was now very much real for her.
She poked her own arm and looked at her sister just to make sure and yeah, this wasn't freaking going away.
Her memories of it were scattered and mixed in with fan theories.
Good news was that it had been an obsession of her past self, at least long enough for her to remember key points.
Damon. Stefan. Katherine. John. Isobel. The Mikaelsons. The tomb. The moonstone. Doppelgängers. Silas, et cetera.
Bad news… bad news was that her dumb past self had never finished the show, and aside from spoilers, she had no idea what would happen or the order it would happen in.
Nova stopped writing until she was fifteen pages in, and felt like crying when she realized that memories of a show filled more pages than her old life did. It wasn't even all she remembered, just what her hands could stand to write at the moment.
She fell asleep when the sun came up, with the journal tucked in her pillowcase, and her mind still racing and her heart still aching.
Nova wrote in her journal every day during recess and bathroom breaks, but well, she had a problem. Well, technically she had multiple problems, but this one in particular could ruin her new life.
Her new obsession with her diary had gained a few curious looks, mainly from her family and friends but… if anyone, like say a family member or a homicidal vampire decided to ignore boundaries, and got their hands on her journal... it would be pretty bad.
She was too small for this crap.
Nova was relying on three things: she was a kid and no sane adult would care about a nine year old's diary, she kept it on her at all times in her purple shoulder bag, and well, luck!
Nova hadn't been very lucky so far, but she was still optimistic.
Other than writing in her journal, there wasn't much she could do other than grow and wait.
And so that's what she did.
Or well, that's what she tried to do. Her plan had quickly gotten thrown out, she thought, watching with wide eyes as her and Bonnie's desk chair hit the wall.
The twins had been having some.. communication issues lately. It was nothing really, her sister was just sort of upset with her, probably because of her mysterious behavior recently.
… and she might've been a little distracted and distant lately, maybe.
A whole other life and foreknowledge for this one was a lot to deal with okay? She was nine! Sort of!
But that wasn't the point, the point was that her carelessness hurt her sister, and had resulted in an argument heated enough a chair was flung across the room by an invisible force.
"What the fuck." Nova whispered, and they both stared in horror at the broken chair.
The show had made it seem like Bonnie hadn't unlocked her magic until she was in her teens. So what was that?
"You said a bad word! " Bonnie said, instead of focusing on the chair that had been flung across the room.
"Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do about it? Throw another chair at me?" Nova couldn't control her mouth for one second, which is why their little argument had been going on for weeks now.
She hated it. She missed talking to her sister without the constant arguing. She wanted to cry.
Instead she argued.
"I'm telling Grams!" Bonnie said, a triumphant look on her face at the look of horror on her twin's face.
"You wouldn't—" She shouldn't have said that, she thought, that was practically a dare to them.
Her situation got worse when the woman in question came running in, arms raised to disarm an attacker that wasn't there.
Nova looked back at the broken chair and blanched when she noticed the chair leg embedded in her side of the room. It did look like someone had attacked them, she admitted to herself.
"Grams! Nova said a bad word!"
"Honey what— "
"Tattle tale! Snitches get stitches Bonnie! And you're the one who threw a chair at me!"
"Girls."
"Liar! No — No I didn't, I didn't even touch it!"
"Then what the fuck is that?!" Nova felt deep frustration well inside her as she waved her hands at the broken chair.
She flinched when the broken bits of their chair fucking imploded, hitting Bonnie's side of the wall and scattering onto her bed.
There was a brief moment of silence before anyone spoke up.
"Uhh.." Nova said dumbly, looking up at her grandmother because what?
Grams looked like she needed a drink or two— or five. "Nova Amelia Bennett! Watch your mouth and your hands."
Bonnie quickly moved on from the random thrown objects and stuck out her tongue.
"And Bonnie, do not think I did not see that young lady, or that chair leg in my wall." Grams scolded, even as she worriedly checked them over for any injuries.
"But I didn't —"
Grams gave her a look, with a raised brow and no nonsense frown and her sister went quiet very quickly.
This time Nova, like the mature for her age child she always got called, stuck out her tongue.
Bonnie rolled her eyes, resembling a kicked puppy when Grams handed her a broom. Nova looked about the same when she was handed a dustpan and trash can.
"Quietly clean up this mess, and meet me in the living room when you're done. The three of us need to have a discussion." Grams said, leaving out the room before they could protest.
Nova watched the curtain of rainbow colored beads that acted as a door shook as she left. She had a feeling she knew what this talk was going to be about. It was just.. she hadn't really thought she was going to be the one getting it.
Nova hadn't thought she herself was going to be a witch.
Yer a wizard Harry, the line came to her unbiddenly and she had to swallow down hysterical laughs.
"Are you gonna help me or what?" Bonnie asked her, annoyed by her lack of movement when she was already sweeping up.
Nova quietly picked up the bigger pieces, and dumped them in the garbage bag. Halfway finished cleaning up Bonnie's bed, she looked up at her sister and found her sister already staring at her.
Next thing she knew they were both crying in each other's arms.
"I'm sorry I snitched you out to Grams—"
"No I'm so sorry I've been distant lately I.. suck, but I miss you."
"Can you tell me why?"
"I.."
"Is it … is it because of weird stuff like the chair and the bad headache?"
"Sort of." Nova agreed, because technically she wasn't exactly wrong. Her half agreement didn't seem to go well with her sister, that was probably because they had never kept secrets before.
Secrets were shared between them and kept from the adults but … things were different now.
She was different.
She hesitated, before adding. "I don't know how to tell you now, but I promise one day I will."
Bonnie leaned back from their hug to look at her, an intense look of concentration on her face as she thought something over.
"Pinky promise?"
Ahhh her sister was so cute!
Nova paused as she remembered all of the promises that others had made to her that had been broken, in this life and her past one. She decided then and there, she would never make a promise she couldn't keep.
"I double pinky promise."
Bonnie giggled when Nova grabbed both of her pinkies, and shook their entangled hands. And for a moment, she convinced herself maybe everything would be alright as long as she had her sister.
She couldn't lose her.
She didn't know what to do to keep her sister from hurting, but.. maybe sitting and waiting for the monsters to stroll into town was not the way to do it.
Nova needed plans and ideas and to become stronger, but all she wanted to do was drink apple juice and read Harry Potter.
But it was for her sister, she reminded herself, hugging her twin again and giggling when her sister began tickling her to get her to let go.