Summary: Aradia's friends come to check up on her and make sure her brush with magic hasn't backfired. (625 words)
Note: This ficlet is a direct sequel to
Untimely Ripped and
Have Lighted Fools the Way.
[ETA: The ever-so-slightly revised
final version is now up on AO3!]
---------------------------------------------
And Beat Them Backward Home
---------------------------------------------
You open the front door to five people all trying to talk at once.
You promptly shut the door again, lock it, and throw the deadbolt and security chain for good measure. This is a delaying action at best and you know it, but you need a minute to breathe and try to plan some explanations. You knew you should have worked harder on coming up with an elegant way to say, "Yeah, so I resurrected my sister and I'm going to die young(ish). Apparently I'm a witch now and everything's a huge mess. But hey, did I mention I resurrected my sister?"
"Aradia, if you don't open this door in five seconds I'm going to break the window and come in that way!" Sollux shouts, clearly audible through the solid wood.
"No you won't -- you'd have to climb through the holly bushes and you're too chicken for that!" you shout back.
"Aradia," your mother says in a disapproving tone.
You glance over your shoulder to find her standing in the kitchen doorway. Damara is lurking on the upper landing of the stairs, well placed for either a quick retreat or a dramatic entrance. Her cat twines anxiously between her ankles. "Um. A bunch of my friends came over?" you inform the house at large.
"I was under the impression that eighth period didn't finish until 2:30," your mother says.
You raise your hands, palms flat, disavowing any responsibility for the situation. "It doesn't. They're skipping. I guess they're worried because I stayed home today? Or maybe the Lalondes let something slip about Damara, accidentally or on purpose."
Outside, someone seems to be braving the holly bushes after all. Your bet is on Terezi, but Feferi or Jade are also likely options. Actually, given how crazy your life has been for the past twenty-four hours, you wouldn't even bet against Tavros bulldozing a path with his wheelchair.
Your mother sighs. "I'd hoped for another day before we had to face the repercussions, but at least it's only your friends and not the police or the media. Let them in. I think we have some microwave popcorn left over from Memorial Day." She ducks back into the kitchen, muttering under her breath.
You set your hand on the security chain, but you don't move it quite yet. Instead, you look up the stairs toward your sister. "Damara? Are you okay with guests? I can go outside instead."
Damara is silent long enough for both Terezi and Jade to wriggle their way through the defensive ring of holly and start pounding on the picture window and chanting for you to open it. Then she scoops her cat into her arms and sits on the stairs, her posture far too sharp and tense for the slouchy comfort of her sweatpants and flannel shirt.
"Fuck it," she says. "Bring on the horde. I'm not going to start my second life by running away from your dork-ass friends."
Your response is reflexive: "Dorks? Who are you calling a dork, you weeb!"
"Like cosplaying Indiana Jones is so much better than cosplaying Sailor Pluto," Damara snaps back. "Especially since it turns out you should have been cosplaying Morgan Le Fay all along. Also, which one of us was a mathlete? Oh right, that would be you. Dork."
Her hands are still buried in her cat's fur, and the wooden uprights of the banister are shaking where her leg is pressed against them.
"I never said I wasn't a dork," you tell her. "I'm just saying you're one too. And so were your friends, just like mine. Uh, and speaking of which, brace yourself."
Your own hands are shaking as you unlock the door. At least half of that is from relief.
---------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 8/16/15
15_minute_ficlets word #234: sociable
---------------------------------------------
Maybe someday I'll get to the actual magic lessons part of this AU. But for now, we are still dealing with emotional fallout.
(I feel SO MUCH BETTER when I'm actively writing stuff, no matter how tiny and irrelevant said stuff may be.)
You can also
read this entry on Dreamwidth, where there are currently (
comments)