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Chapter Text

Prologue

Ch.1

The Perfect Storm

The Atlantic Ocean – 10 miles south of Cape Cod.

There’s things in life you simply cannot prepare for, situations and scenarios that side swipe you out of nowhere taking your legs from under you, leaving you completely out of your depth.

Adrift.

Out of options.

Out of time.

Out of air.

She should have listened to them, she should have waited, she wasn’t wanted here.

But Tally couldn’t really say this was a surprise, every decision she had made in the past two years had led her here, perhaps it was inevitable, some would even call it fate.

Perhaps she was always supposed to be swept away in her storm, destined to drown in the ocean that was Sarah Alder.

She couldn’t have waited – she had waited long enough.

You would think it would be blue, like her eyes – it was not.

It was black and endless, as she tumbled again eyes wide open staring into the inky abyss.

They don’t tell you that the shock of the cold water fast gets replaced by the burning of stolen breaths; lungs starved and limbs heavy.

She tumbled again, auburn hair plastered across her eyes, it mattered not- she couldn’t tell the sky from the shore, the salt stings and yet survival instinct keeps your eyes wide open, everything froze and burned at the same time.

Blinding light then pitch black, dizzy for breath.

They say your life flashes before your eyes – it does not.

You think of nothing but your next breath, until you don’t think at all – confusion…….panic.

They don’t tell you that its loud, who knew it would be this loud? – like thunder in the ocean, the roar of waves in her ears, deafening, she couldn’t think.

She needed to think.

She needed to swim.

She kicked her legs not knowing which way was up, she tumbled again pinned down by the heavy waves.

Gasping.

The infinite weigh of the ocean bearing down on her chest.

You fight for your life, you remember her words ‘Unto your last breath’

Tossed endlessly like a matador gauged on the horns of a Bull, sandpaper against your skin, water was not soft. The worse it was, the closer to the surface she was, she had learned this quickly – the power of the waves relentless in their punishment.

And then a break, a reprieve, tossed to the surface like a rag doll.

Breathe.

Head above the water, the quiet, she knew the drill now, she had been at this for an eternity. She sucked in a lung full of air before being pummelled with the next set as it rolled over her body at will, a herd of bison charging across a plane, dragging her back beneath the waves.

Her eyes brown bulged as she tried to keep her mouth shut, hold the breath not knowing when or if the next one will come. She tried to kick but legs of lead just weighed her down.

They don’t tell you that your body betrays you, as you fight for breath your chest expels what little air you have left, a cough, traitorous bubbles pour freely from your nose, convulsive swallowing around barks of escaping air, choking on your breath though you have none.

The deeper you are the stiller the water – suspended arms and legs cast wide you drift.

A puppet of the ocean.

Its calm here, perhaps she could stay here for just a moment longer to recover. To rest.

The last time Tally had been moments from death she had come.

Sarah Alder, The one who fought back.

Sarah Alder, The one who came back.

Tally was supposed to be safe now, witches were supposed to be safe now, the war had been won.

She was tired of fighting. She was tired.

It’s warm now and still.

Would she know?

Would she feel it as Tally’s last breath left her body?

Sarah.

The water crushed her chest like a tin can beneath a boot, was it darker here? Or were her eyes closed?

Would she come?

It had been the perfect storm, she had always been the perfect storm.

Perfect.

Sarah.

Was it possible to cry under water? Was the ocean made merely of tears? of longing? of loneliness?

They don’t tell you that death is gentle, that it cradles you softly in its arms drawing you in, all resistance gone, it is tranquil as it claims you as its prize. Gracious in its victory. it is welcoming and it is warm.

Is this how she felt?

The bubbles have stopped, the pain is gone.

It’s quiet now.

Tally would find her in the next life, and the one after that.

It was inevitable, It was fate.

Sarah.

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Chapter Text

CH.2

A Good Day

Five Days previously – Fort Salem, MA.

M sprinted through the halls of Fort Salem, barely slowing for corners in their haste to reach Circe Barracks. The smell of fresh paint and dust filled their lungs, repairs to the base were still on-going following the ‘Battle For Fort Salem’ sucking a lung full of air and ignoring the burn in their chest  they pushed on.

Bursting out through the doors M smiled as they took the iconic stone steps two at a time jumping the last three entirely, deviating from the paths M cut across the lawns. Three months ago this would have earnt them at minimum a Demerit, perhaps even a court martial depending on who wrote you up, but the Army was still in disarray. General Bellweather had been working on reorganising following significant losses but they still had a long way to go, the rules didn’t apply today not to them anyway, some things were far more important than a star on their shoulder or a medal on their chest and this was definitely worth it.

M had always been the good soldier, dutiful, disciplined and loyal but something about the Bellweather Unit had always spurred a little rebellion in them and so they pounded their boots harder into the newly manicured lawns as they sprinted, protocol be dammed .

Today was a good day, and Goddess did they need a good day.

The Army had all but lost when Fort Salem had fallen, the days and weeks the followed saw Witches hunted like dogs sending them into hiding scattered across the country.

News about the loss of The Great General Alder had rocked the Witch communities worldwide and bolstered the Camarilla’s agenda across America, they claimed it as a great victory for mankind. Regalia bearing slogans of ‘Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead’ spread across the states like MAGA hats. Emboldened they stepped out from the shadows, no longer men behind masks heralding themselves as hero’s as they continued to round up witches in earnest under the guise of ‘Control’ and to ‘Neutralize threats’  spewing hate at rallies across the country. The Government was in turmoil, infighting and treachery had them shying from taking a stand.

But the Camarliia weren’t they only ones compelled to act.

The Accords and Sarah Alders long life and 300+ year command of the Army had polarized witches for centuries, Dodgers, Cession, Matrifocal and Spree.

But her death at the hands of the Camarilla, her sacrifice, it had united them in ways that no one could have ever predicted.

The accords had failed to call all witches to service. But Sarah Alders death in battle had issued a call to arms that itched in the blood of every Witch across America.

The one who fought back.

The one who fought.

The one who never stopped fighting.

Unto her last breath.

And so it began, the rebellion.

But perhaps it was too little too late, the government were still floundering and had not come to their defence. The Camarillas numbers were surging. Witches were losing ground across the country, disorganised and squabbling over leadership, General Bellweathers attempts at filling Alders boots were laughed at by the dodger and spree communities, the cession witches had no respect for high Atlantics – begrudgingly they would admit  that Alder had given them their land, but what had an entitled Bellweather ever done for them?

But they needed to work together, they needed to unite and so Petra looked to Nicte asked for her cooperation in having the spree come to the table. Collar brought the cession elders and Ramshorn all but dragged the dodgers, The matriarchs of the Matricofal communes rounded out the alliance. And so when the leaders assembled they finally saw sense in strength in numbers. Saw the merit in a significant target, in protecting their own – a strategic plan to show the world that Witches were not to be counted out in this fight.

They would take back Fort Salem.

Take back this witches place.

The dodger, spree and matricofal communities were to send their best and bravest to Fort Salem and in return Petra pledged that the Army would continue to study and develop a cure for the witch plague – one that would be freely shared once established.

Part of this plan meant ‘The WitchBomb’ and subsequently The Bellweather unit, Ramshorn and Nicte were to remain in the cession far away from the battle, hidden in plain sight and tasked with tracking down Camarilla warehouses and destroying plague laboratories.

Only things don’t always go to plan, and while witches battled to take back the fort. The Bellweather unit and Nicte were left fighting for their lives, Targeted by Camarilla leadership they had no choice but to split up.  Craven and Nicte had been captured liberating witches in a Camarilla stronghold as the fight to take back the fort entered its fourth day.

One minute they were losing, exhausted fixers scurried around trying to patch up their sisters for battle, and then the next minute the earth fought back, every witch on the battlefield felt the shift, work unlike anything they had ever seen seeping out of the ground beneath their feet.

An anguished scream of a seed deafening all around them. Tree roots and vines wielded themselves like scouges cutting through camarilla soldiers at will, encasing them alive in the ground upto their waists – easy targets for windstrikes – old magic vibrated thickly in the air.

Whispers of stories of the Goddess herself rising from the ground were quickly shut down – all who had seen the shimmering figure of the lone witch who rose from the mycelium that day had been sworn to secrecy.

Levelling the field, she was gone as quickly as she came.

It had been two weeks since the Army had defeated the Camarilla.

Two weeks since the day everything changed.

Two weeks that Tally Craven had been lying unconscious in that infirmary bed.

M skidded through the halls of Sekhmet coven, coming to a halt outside the Bellweather units door.

Placing their palms on the sturdy door frame they let their head fall forward against the cool wood as they desperately sucked in a lungful of air. Raising their fist they rapped loudly against the door before pushing back and forcing themselves to stand tall, shoulders back, proud they waited, hands clasped behind their back as they centred themselves once more in the feeling that today was a good day.

The door opened, and Abigail Bellweather came into view quickly accompanied by Raelle Collar, disregarding pleasantries and greetings entirely M beamed and delivered the news.

“She’s awake”

.

Chapter Text

CH.3

Awake

Fort Salem, MA – Infirmary.

Tally screwed her eyes shut as the harsh infirmary lights blinded her like the first light at dawn after an eternity of sleep. She was drowsy and fought against the instinct to return to slumber, chancing her eyes again she stared straight up at the celling before gently turning her head to the side to survey the room.

Fort Salem infirmary – bustling with witches, her heart ached with relief as her eyes filled with tears – it worked, they took back the fort.

But she wasn’t here…..she wrecked her brain and tried to recall the last thing she could remember – the warehouse, Nicte, Alban Hearst………she reached up as her own hand came into view before timidly landing on the thick bandage that encased her neck.

What happened?

How did she get here?

A fixer rushed past the end of her cot and Tally tried to call out, but no words came, her cracked lips stung from the effort and she choked on her dry throat.

“Don’t try to talk, gently now …”

A voice from the side of her bed whispered, before coming into view with a small plastic cup, gently lifting it to her lips.

“Little sips…it’s good to have you back, you had us all worried. I’m too fucking old to be sitting in these shitty chairs”

Tally didn’t recognise the stranger and recoiled from the olive skinned girl.

“Easy now Red, it’s just me….”

Tally coughed again and painfully clutched at her throat in panic, as the girl stood and drew the curtain to give them privacy, the familiar strike of a lighter could be heard and Tally watched on as the olive skin stranger melted away and Nicte came into view.

Tally sobbed out, it was raspy and garbled but Nicte smiled as the sound reached her ears before wrapping the red headed witch up in her arms.

“Sorry Red…..my face still makes some uncomfortable, it’s easier this way – you err….gave us all quite the fright”

“whhaa..” Tally tried again to speak around coughing fits as tears of frustration leaked from her eyes as she cried out in pain.

“Drink Red, your safe here” as Tally swallowed she winced and clutched at her throat again.

“Steady Red, I’ll get you something for the pain ok”

“nrrphhh” she desperately tried to communicate, needing to know what had happened, where her sisters were, how she got here?

The strike of the lighter echoed off the tile around them and the olive skin witch came back into view, her curls tumbled around her face as she leaned over Tally to reassure her

“Hang tight ok kid?!” the face may belong to a stranger, but that crooked smile was all Nicte Batan.

Tally closed her eyes as a fixer administered a syringe to her arm, instant relief flooded her system as she relaxed boneless back into the cot. It would be hours before she woke again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you fucking kidding me with this shit Batan” Abigail Bellweather cursed

“Calm down little Bell’s Cravens fine”

“Then why isn’t she awake?, M said she was awake….does she look awake to you Rae?”

Raelle hung back at the foot of the bed and watched the two brunette witches squabble back and forth above her sleeping sister. She was still trembling from the sprint here adrenalin rushing through her system, fuck she was out of shape, the tile felt cold under her bare feet and she cursed herself for not even bothering to stop and put on her boots before bolting for the infirmary.

“Abs…” Rae tried in vain to calm the storm that Bellweather had brewing, they had been back on base for three weeks, and despite the victory in battle and the repairs that were happening all around them the sisters had remained suspended in fear day in day out, wishing and waiting for Tal to wake up.

Each taking a shift to sit with her, despite Nicte’s refusal to leave her side for anything other than a summons from General Bellweather herself. The guilt of knowing what Tally had gone through, of knowing how close they had been to losing her, Rae’s eyes once again tracked to the thick bandage on her sisters neck.

“Did she say anything?” her voice trembled as she asked, afraid of the answer, Tally’s throat had been all but carved open by Hearst. They knew little of what happened in that warehouse, only that their sister had been seconds from death, Nicte wasn’t talking and Petra had been stonewalling them with the Army’s new favourite slogan “Its classified”. No one knew the extent of the damage to Tally’s cords and the not knowing had been eating away at the two of them, they were supposed to have each others backs always, this wasn’t supposed to happen.

“She tried….I mean there was sound, it’s a good sign right?”

"What did she say?” Abigail demanded

“Well….nothing”

“so she spoke but she said nothing……and she's awake but….she's clearly not. Not making much sense here Batan”

“fuck you Bellweather”

“did she speak or not?” Abigail demanded

“Yes….she…fuck, she cried out in pain okay!, is that what you wanted to hear Bells? Do you feel better now?” Nicte lowered her voice as she tried to control her anger.......... “but there was sound, definitely sound” she tempered.

“that’s…..that’s good right?” Rae whispered as both brunettes pinned her with a glare having almost forgotten her presence in their battle of wills…. “I mean not the crying in pain part….but the sound part, my anatomy is rusty but sound is sound right….if she can cry then she can….” She gestured with her arms, not wanting to finish the sentence, to acknowledge the elephant in the room, they all knew what she was getting at, if Tally could cry….then perhaps she could talk maybe even still sing.

Nicte rubbed at her face with both palms as she shrugged and tried to shake off the fatigue, the crash following the spike of euphoria she had felt when Craven was awake was firmly setting in.

“I had them give her something for the pain, it knocked her out cold. Maybe its better like this, she needs more time to heal” Nicte wondered how long it would be before Craven woke up and started asking questions, Craven….always with the questions her endless pursuit of the truth.

She wondered how much the girl remembered, how long it would take Petra and Wade to silence her?

Wondered if she would come back, where had she gone?, the fucking Army with their secrets and lies…….classified….no one was talking, Nicte was supposed to say nothing until Craven had been debriefed by the General herself.

But how could she not tell her? What was she supposed to say when Tally asked, with those big brown eyes that wanted nothing but the truth.

Tally had been in and out of consciousness when they found her, Hearst had been seconds from slicing out her cords, perhaps she would remember, perhaps Nicte wouldn’t have to say anything at all.

It was afterall kind of hard to forget…….

Safest thing for Craven at the moment was to remain sleeping, fuck! Nicte missed sleep….she was getting too old for this shit. Her dreams had been plagued with the desperation she felt as she watched on paralysed in a silencing collar as that asshole Hearst took a knife to Tally’s throat and there was nothing, absolutely nothing she could do to stop it but pray to the goddess herself.

She had no idea that the Goddess would send her fucking Sarah Alder.

.

Chapter Text

CH.4

Alive

She swallowed a little easier this time but still couldn’t restrain the wince.

“Tal?....Tal?....can you hear me?”

She felt someone squeeze her hand and opened her eyes in response.

“Oh my Goddess…Tal…..Shitbird wake up!, she’s awake…” Abigail.

Tally blinked a few times to clear her vision as her sisters faces slowly swam into view.

“Get the water Rae”

“You get the water Bells”

Both sisters were tightly grasping her hands, neither wanted to let go, as Rae scrambled gently into the cot next to Tally Abigail relented and reached for the jug, pouring a small cup as Rae gently lifted her sisters head to drink.

“Easy Tal, we’ve got you” she soothed as Tally’s big brown eyes flicked gratefully between them both.

Tally drank carefully this time and rested before she chose her words carefully.

“o..”

“oo….”

“Okay?” she rasped out as her sisters patiently watched on.

Abigail sobbed “Yeah Tal, were okay….everyone’s okay” it was a lie, not everyone was okay, thousands of witches had lost their lives, but they had made it, by the grace of the goddess somehow her scrappy little unit had pulled through.

Tally beamed, and Rae was grateful that she had climbed into the bed, that smile would have brought her to her knees.

“Sa..”

“Sah….” Tally swallowed in frustration again and Rae brought the cup back upto her lips, dipping her slender fingers into the water she gently coated Tally’s lips, the urge to link with her, to take away any discomfort she could was overwhelming her palms itched, however it had been forbidden pending medical clearance, it was unknown if any other witches could withstand the effects of the witch plague that still lingered in her system, the mycelium had protected her and helped destroy the threat, Izadora was still working on replicating a cure and Rae had become her personal lab rat.

“Sarah…” Tally whispered

“What?” Abigail coaxed, straining to hear.

“Sarah…” she forced out once more

“who?” Abi replied, and Craven sighed in frustration releasing her hand and reaching for the cup of water herself, she downed the glass whole.

“Alder” she shouted as she flopped back onto the bed clutching at her throat once more. Rae scrambled to refill the cup as the curtain was pulled back and Petra entered the cubicle flanked by Nicte.

“Bellweather unit I think that’s enough” Petra rushed out as she took the cup from Collars hand.

“Craven, its good to see you awake, the fixers have done everything they can, but injuries like this take time to heal….lets not rush”

Tally's eyes filled with tears and she looked back and forth between her sisters, desperate for answers, desperate to know….

“Did she say anything else?” Petra enquired to Abigail

“No Ma’am……just ‘okay’ and…..erm…” Abs looked at Rae, she didn’t want her mother thinking her sister was crazy.

“spit it out private…..I am ordering you to tell me what she said”

Rae cleared her throat…. “Ma’am, she asked….well, she kinda asked….”

Petra inhaled sharply through her nose and pinned Collar with a glare.

“Sarah…..Alder”

Petra swallowed and looked down at the girl in the bed, Goddess was it too much to hope that she had no memory?, perhaps she could wipe it, perhaps Nicte could push…..

“No fucking way” Nicte muttered from behind her, clearly reading her mind.

‘Get out of my head Batan’ she telegraphed

Petra recovered quickly “What about Sarah Alder?” she focussed on Abigal, refusing to look Craven in the eyes as she carried out this display.

“Nothing Ma’am….just her name. Maybe she…..Maybe she forgot, that the General….General Alder that is…. That she died in battle, Goddess rest her soul” Rae rushed out.

Tally shook her head violently and started coughing as she tangled in the sheets In an attempt to sit up.

“Easy Red…” Nicte stepped around Petra and tried to soothe the agitated girl who flung herself from the bed, Nicte had to rush to catch her.

“No….nononono” she mumbled against Nicte's neck, Nicte could feel the wet of the girls tears and she cursed.

“Fuck red….don’t do this, you have to rest ok?” she gently lifted her back into the bed as Petra called for fixers to administer more pain killers

“no no….” Tally begged throat raw, eyes wide and pleading and Nicte had the urge to burn everyone in the world that had ever made her cry.

“Shhhh Red, its ok” she gentled

Abigail looked aghast and Petra reached across the bed to place a hand on her daughters shoulder.

“She will be fine, the confusion is normal, let them take care of her Abigail she needs to rest” she looked her daughter dead in the eye as she lied through her teeth.

As the nurse approached with the sedative Nicte couldn’t find it in herself to hold the girl down removing her hands Tally sat up and started rasping words between strangled breaths.

“no…no”….”Sarah”….”Alive” repeating over and over again like a prayer.

Nicte couldn’t help it, as the sedative took hold her eyes met Tally’s and her heart broke. Leaning forward to lay the girl back down Nicte swiped her palm across Tally’s face gently closing her eyes as she once again succumbed to slumber, before bolting from the room.

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