Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

On these holiest of days, my heart beats for you, breaks for you

June 21st, Litha. The Weatherwork Field, Fort Salem.

Tally sat on the brick wall which ran along the edge of the field, the farthest place she could get from the main campus without leaving the base itself. Even with the distance, she could still hear the sounds of music and laughter drifting on the warm summer air, dancing around her like a cruel, mocking taunt. Even though Fort Salem was still rebuilding, still strengthening itself from the war which had erupted on its very doorstep, the whole base was celebrating the Summer Solstice, a renewed sense of hope and enlightenment filtering through its occupants. Even Petra, a stickler for duty over pleasure, had seen the importance of this celebration, although Tally also noted that since the war, she too had become softer, more considerate and more understanding. Tally wasn’t sure what it was which had brought about the change; whether it was the fact that along with Tally and Raelle, Abigail had been a fugitive for months, whether it was the horrors of seeing what war really looked like, or whether, and Tally was inclined to believe this had an impact more than Petra would admit, that she had really began to realise what a burden being General was. Tally scoffed to herself; it wasn’t that she hated Petra, far from it. But that, despite her own role in Alder’s downfall and subsequent death, she felt angry at the fact that it was Petra who was reaping the benefits of Alder’s sacrifice. Softness or not, it seemed deeply unfair that Petra got to have the good times, while all Alder had was…nothing. Nothing, because unlike Petra, or Abs, or Raelle and Scylla or even fucking Nicte (she didn’t hate Nicte either, she had to remind herself, it was once again just the vast injustice of it all) Alder was dead. Gone. A presence so vast and all-consuming just gone, blown into the wind like a dandelion which had been blown by a child, leaving a huge gaping void in Tally’s life which was showing no signs of healing any time soon.

Tally pulled her knees closer to her chest, and let her head drop onto them with a heavy sigh. Sarah (it was always Sarah in her head, Sarah when she thought about her in any other way than the leader of the army, Sarah when she thought of the woman who held her close as they watched the Mother heal the world, Sarah who kissed her forehead before saying goodbye) loved the Summer Solstice. It was her favourite Sabbat. The music and dancing reminded her of simpler times, before she was hunted, before her sister and parents were cruelly murdered, before everything irrevocably changed. Instead of dragging her down into memories of what might have been, Sarah let it remind her of what she was fighting for, let the sound of Abigail’s laughter ring through her head and remind her that she was once carefree and happy. Tally knew this because she had asked her once. The night Sarah appeared in her room at the Cession and asked her to see into the past. Before they had left for the snow-covered mountains of Germany, they had rested, and Tally had started rambling aimlessly in her nervous anticipation of what was to come. They had just had Yule, and Tally remembered how she asked Sarah what Yule was like when she was a child. And then what her favourite Sabbat was. And Sarah spoke, freer than Tally thought she would, about summer evenings with her sister, running through the open fields, the sun warming their faces, and their feet barefoot in the ground. Truthfully, that was when Alder became Sarah in Tally’s mind. And when she dared uttered her name for the first time, long after Sarah had called her by hers, and Sarah looked across at her from where she sat propped up against the headboard of Tally’s bed, blue eyes dulled by the Mycelium’s weakness but no less startling, and gave Tally a small, timid smile, that was when she knew that everything she had ever done was because she loved Sarah.

But now she was marking the passing of the Summer Solstice without Sarah by her side, even though it was never really something she had ever imagined she could do, and in every mention of its name, in every celebration, every song and dance and joyful rejoice, all Tally could see was those cerulean eyes. Tally pushed her face into her knees, feeling the bumps of the joints press into her eyes, feeling the warmth of her tears soak through the fabric of her trousers, and let herself cry for the summer Sarah never got to see.

***

Across base, the wall of Mycelium fibres which stretched and pulsed rhythmically, sluggish in its regeneration since its poisoning, bloomed an ethereal violet into the darkened room, before settling once again.

***

August 1st, Lughnasadh. Salem Town.

Tally really wanted to be anywhere but here, but she had learnt after her disappearance during the Summer Solstice celebrations that the pain of hearing Abs complain and nag was far worse than trying to avoid another day together. Abs had berated her close to the point of tears after Tally had avoided them on the Solstice, and it was only Raelle’s gentle but firm word in her ear which had stopped her. It wasn’t that Abs was angry with her, or even disappointed, but their time on the run had led her to be more protective over her sisters, the smallest of distance, either physically or emotionally weighing heavy on her. Abs would never admit it, but both Tally and Rae could see it; the nightly phone calls, the subtle touches, the more-than-necessary check-ins. Tally disappearing for an entire day without so much of an explanation was too much for her to handle, apparent when an unexpected summer storm rolled in that night, the humid air lighting up with ferocious thunder, rain pelting down on the dusty ground.

But what Abs didn’t realise was that while their experiences may have changed her in some way, at least she had Adil. She had survived, and so had her husband, and they could now move forward with their life together, work on her residual scars and trauma together. Continue living, together. Tally couldn’t do that. The person she loved was nothing more than memory, and one which she was reminded about at every turn. Yes, the Sarah Alder who was worshipped and revered, at these sacred times more than ever, wasn’t the Sarah which Tally had come to know in those final, short, fleeting weeks, but her face was still there, her eyes still watching wherever Tally went, her name still uttered in conversations.

And worse still, Tally had no-one to talk to about this, because really, who knew the Sarah she knew? Who knew the woman who cried as she was seized by the witch in that cave in Germany? Who knew the woman who held her close when everything seemed so overwhelming in the garden at the Cession? Anyone who had even had the chance to know her was long gone, dead and buried. And even if there was, that would mean that Tally would have to admit out loud for the first time that she loved Sarah, and wasn’t that just a can of complicated emotional worms she wasn’t ready to share with anyone just yet.

So instead of trying to find another excuse to spend the day alone, Tally had been dragged by Abs and Raelle to the Lughnasadh Market in Salem Town. Since the defeat of Camarilla, witch festivals and rituals were being more openly celebrated in the town, and this was the first year that Lughnasadh was being marked by people outside of Fort Salem. It had been encouraged by Petra and the other senior officers at base for officers to attend, further strengthening the local relationships, but it was an informal event, with everyone encouraged to enjoy themselves. Tally wandered through the bustling street market, falling a few steps behind Raelle and Scylla and Abs and Adil, their coupling up only making the ache in her chest more palpable.

“Hey, Tal!” Raelle called out, Tally seeing she had stopped at a stall just ahead. “What do you think of these?”

Tally walked up to Raelle, studying the earrings she was holding up. Deep, swirling jade gemstones, polished and carved into perfect teardrops, hung from silver strands, the late summer sun reflecting off them and making them shine in her eyes like her Sight once did.

“They remind me of the dress you wore to our wedding.”

Tally’s heart clenched at the reminder. The wedding day was the last moment that Tally could truly remember being happy. After so long of living looking over their shoulders, they had one day when they could be free to be themselves, live and laugh and love each other without fear of recriminations. The only thing missing for Tally was Sarah. And then she showed, mysterious and aloof as she always did, almost never coming to find Tally. But Tally’s anger at finding her leaving before she had even seen her soon dissipated when Sarah turned and looked at her, those eyes which were still engrained in her memory softening, the way her voice mellowed when she told Tally she was too important, as if somewhere hidden in her words was another reason why that was true. Suddenly a wave of emotion, of grief which she had not yet verbalised to anyone even nearly nine months later, threatened to engulf her, drown her in the middle of the market with her sisters as witnesses, and she couldn’t bear it. Hurriedly dropping the earrings back into Raelle’s open hand, she muttered an excuse about not having a reason to wear them, before rushing to the next stall, fighting back the tears which balanced delicately on the precipice of her eyelids, squashing the sadness down until she knew she was alone and safe to fall apart.

***

Lilac spores burst out into the space, fading to dust before they even had a chance to settle, all evidence of the strange occurrence dissipating before they could even touch the cold, concrete floor of the Necropolis.

***

November 1st, Samhain. The Woods, Fort Salem.

Tally slumped against the back wall of the Necropolis building, her heart pounding and chest heaving, tears drying on her face and making her skin itch. She dropped her head between her knees, squeezing her eyes shut as her vision clouded over with black spots. In through your nose, out through your mouth. She had already been feeling overwhelmed. Ever since Lughnasadh she had been struggling more than before. She wasn’t sure what it was; whether it had been spending the day with her sisters and their spouses, hearing about their plans, the reminder of their wedding and Sarah’s return that day, or just the fact that the nights had started creeping in, bringing with them a sense of darkness. Literally and figuratively. Sleep had been harder to come by, now surviving on less than a few hours a night. She could see the impact herself, she was sure her sisters could as well. Her appetite, once the thing of playful ridicule amongst her coven, was sparse, and her once rounded face was becoming hollow and pale. She heard the whispers behind her back, the lingering glances from Raelle and Abs, but whenever they happened Tally would quickly excuse herself from the situation, not yet ready to face the questions which she knew would come sooner or later.

It was one of those moments which she was running from when she stumbled upon a group of first year cadets, chattering excitedly about Defending the Hearth tonight, and Tally’s fragile heart shattered. She heard them regard it almost as another challenge, a game, something to be boasting about. And she guessed that she was the same when she had done it with her Unit. Or would have done, if she wasn’t already obsessed with Nicte Batan and trying to discover Sarah’s secrets. But her time defending it was just another black mark on her sheet in her painful and shameful history with Sarah. She still regretted using her candle to call Esterbrook, wishing instead she had just heeded Sarah’s warning and stayed well away from the whole situation. Maybe if she had, then Sarah would still be here. She’d snapped at the cadets, whirling round on her heel to rip into them about the responsibility of it all, not just the Defending, but the act after it, how they should have more respect for those that had come before them, those who had sacrificed their lives so they could even have the opportunity to perform the ritual tonight, before turning and marching off. The moment she knew she was safely out of their view, her indignant stomps turned into a frantic run as she took off into the woods, only stopping when she spotted the Necropolis and her legs gave out. Goddess, this was hardest of all of the days so far. The constant ache in her chest had only intensified, a burning hole which continued to sear with each beat of her heart. What she wouldn’t give to see Sarah again tonight. To light a candle and whisper those words, see her rise from the shadows and stand in front of her. But she couldn’t. Instead she had to live with never seeing her again.

Tipping her head back until it cracked on the cold stone wall behind her, she opened her eyes. She could make out patches of the inky night sky above her, in between the trees, clouds drifting across dulling the light of the moon. Sarah had told her once about the last time she had lit a Samhain candle. It was the night she had showed at the house in the Cession, her clones bursting through the Camarilla soldiers, before she collapsed, weaker than Tally had ever seen her. Tally had, with the help of Adil, carried her into the house, laying her down on one of the sofas. She had been unconscious for hours, her skin a deathly grey, the white in her hair creeping further in front of Tally’s eyes. Tally had sat there, the two of them left alone, speaking a one-sided conversation softly into the quiet, more for her own sanity than anything else. Brushing the hair from Sarah’s face, she had then turned away, resting against the sofa where she sat on the floor asking a hundred unanswered questions. She was just mid-rant about how if her mother could see her now, a fugitive, wanted and hunted, all because of her idealistic naive aspirations of the army, when a weak voice behind her spoke.

“She would be proud.”

Tally spun around, seeing dull cobalt eyes regarding her, the lilac of the Mycelium which now resided in them flickering erratically.

“I didn’t realise you were awake.”

“Mmm, although I feel rather like I wish I wasn’t. What happened?”

“You…umm, you killed a load of Camarilla soldiers. Like literally turned them to mushroom dust by bursting from their insides. And then collapsed.”

“She is getting weaker,” Sarah said, her eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. Until we find the source, I fear there is not much we can do.” Sarah turned to look at Tally again. “But thank you, what you are doing is more than you had to.”

“It’s nothing. I mean, it’s literally nothing. I can’t do anything.”

“Tally Craven, do not doubt your influence or power in all of this. You have done more than anyone has asked of you, and than anyone expected. And I meant what I said. If your mother knew what you were sacrificing, she would be proud. I wish I could say the same for mine.”

“You don’t think your mother would have been proud?” Tally asked incredulously.

“I believe that with everything I have done, she would barely recognise me.”

“I would disagree.”

Sarah let out a weak laugh, a cough wracking her body. “Imagine my surprise at that, Craven.”

“I’m serious. You have dedicated three hundred years of your life, just so we could exist.”

“And look at us now,” Sarah said, looking back up at the ceiling.

“This is not your fault.”

“I was too blind-sided, too focussed on retaining my own position to recognise that our ancient enemy had returned.” Tally sat, contemplating Sarah’s words, a stillness settling over them, before Sarah spoke again. “The last thing she told me was not to lose sight of what we had fought for previously. I cannot help but think I have done exactly that.”

“You were a child—” Tally started, assuming that Sarah was referring to the night when her parents were killed. She couldn’t imagine the burden that would have on anyone, let alone a young and scared woman, barely ready to step into adulthood, let alone the life which had ended up unfolding for Sarah.

“No. I,” Sarah took a deep breath. “I called upon her once, at Samhain. It was many years since she had died, not long after I had taken my first Biddy. I was feeling lost and unsure about where my path was leading, it was the first time I really acknowledged the true extent of what I had signed away that day. Sharing the life-force of another so I could live longer than the Goddess had intended…it was a responsibility I was not sure how to carry.” Tally shifted, turning to face Sarah more fully, even though the older woman was still staring straight ahead of her. “I called upon her. Even after nearly a hundred years, I still needed to hear the advice of my mother. And she told me to not lose sight, not lose hope. That the Goddess has a path for all of us, but we should not lose ourselves in the pursuit of it.” Sarah’s voice dropped almost to a whisper. “I fear I lost myself along the way. And I was lost for more of my life than I was certain.”

“I think,” Tally said, thinking carefully about her words, even though she was certain at what she wanted to say. “I think, no one can judge you for not having the right intentions. Sometimes, those intentions can get lost in the actions we do to reach our goals. Even to ourselves. But because of you, witchkind has already had so many more opportunities than we could have had. I had more opportunities than I could have had. And even though I couldn’t see your intentions at one time, I know now what they were. And for that I am thankful.”

Sarah’s gaze was now firmly trained on Tally, and despite the fact that she could feel her cheeks heat under the intensity of it, she resolved herself to hold it. “Thank you. That means more to me than you know.”

***

Izodora stopped what she was doing when a strange and unexpected glow reflected in the glass of the cabinet in front of her. Turning, she walked to the open door of the Mycelium room where she could have swore the light originated from. Taking a step closer when she first found nothing out of the ordinary, she leaned closer, frowning as she inspected the Mycelium with the laser-sharp scrutiny she was known for across base. When nothing seemed to happen, she stepped back, appraising it once more, putting it down to nothing more than a trick of her imagination, before leaving once again, just missing the low sigh-like breath that emanated from it, which if she had listened carefully sounded a lot like a certain red-headed Private’s name.

***

December 21st, Yule. The Bellweather House, Anapolis.

“Tally?”

Tally closed her eyes and breathed deeply at the soft voice which had interrupted her seclusion and silence. If she had thought about it, it was probably the softest she had ever heard Petra speak, and so much was said in that one utterance of her name, Tally almost felt overwhelmed by it.

Petra had insisted that the girls spend Yule with her this year, a long impassioned speech given about how last year, Yule had passed with only the constant worry about where her daughters were, whether they were safe, and that since them returning and the war ending, she had, once again, learnt not to take their presence for granted. She wanted one day where they could all be together, as a family, not as a unit, not as commander and officers, where they could enjoy the festivities without the burden of responsibilities. Tally could see her point, and would in any other circumstances absolutely agree with Petra, but the truth was, these past two months since Samhain had been the hardest of them all. She barely slept, and when she did, she woke with a start, convinced that she could hear Sarah whispering her name, calling for her, only to frantically search every time to find no-one there.

Tally felt, rather than saw Petra sit next to her, before a glass appeared in her vision and Tally looked at Petra, wondering why she was offering her, of all things, a glass of whiskey.

“It was one of her favourites,” Petra said by way of explanation. Tally felt as though all the air had been sucked out of her lungs and she choked, the traitorous tears she had been so valiantly hiding for so long making their appearance and rolling down her cheek. “Oh Tally, I never realised it was this bad. I’m sorry.”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Tally,” Petra stopped her, placing the glass still in her hand down on the table beside them, before placing her hand over Tally’s clenched fist. Slowly, she worked her fingers loose, slipping her own in between them until she could squeeze her palm. “We’ve all seen it. How you’ve regressed into yourself, closed yourself off from those around you. Abigail and Raelle are worried, but they’re not the only ones. Magda has said you’ve been disinterested in your classes, Izadora has seen you wandering the grounds…I think Abigail assumes it’s because you are struggling with all the changes, but it’s not, is it?” Tally couldn’t form any words, instead just shaking her head sharply. She had never known how to say what was gnawing at her, eating her from the inside, and the fact that Petra was now saying the words for her, allowing her just to confirm all her rawest emotions rather than articulate them, was a blessing she never realised she needed. “It’s because of Sarah?” Petra asked. This time a nod. “Oh Tally, if I knew…”

“T-there was nothing to know. That’s the worst part. I’m grieving over a person, a relationship, which is all in my head.”

“Tally, just because there was nothing there, nothing tangible or concrete, it doesn’t make your emotions or grief any less valid. Sarah had an impact on all our lives, in so many ways,” Petra laughed, “so many ways. And I feel, considering what you two went through near the end, you more than anyone deserve to be the one who feels the most.”

“But you knew her for so long. Served under her, with her for years…”

“And those years were filled with a whole plethora of emotions. Many of which you probably went through as well. Admiration, adulation, awe. Disappointment. Anger. But I had thirty years of serving with her, to work through those slowly, not forced upon me in a matter of months. Not to mention the fact I was never her Biddy. I didn’t have that connection to her—”

“It’s not just a Biddy thing!” Tally screamed, pulling out of Petra’s hold and shooting to her feet. “Everyone, everyone, always puts it down to the bond, but thats not it. It never was. Goddess, it heightened everything, but it was there before. And I was so angry at her after it was severed, so furious because she just pushed me to the side. I was there, in head, and everything was so…so…overwhelming.”

“Tally…”

“Not feeling it. Not not feeling it. But her grief. Her pain. Goddess! And all I wanted to do was keep sharing that burden with her. But she tossed me to the side like I meant nothing. But that wasn’t it, not really. She was scared, I know that now. Scared of being seen, of being judged, of being loved. And that’s all I really wanted to do. That’s all I really felt.” Tally laughed, a wet chuckle sent into the air as she tipped her head back and looked at the night sky. “But me, the greatest Knower of a generation didn’t see it until it was too late.”

“She cared for you a great deal, you know.”

“What? The cadet who destroyed everything she had worked for?”

Tally heard Petra stand, her heels clicking on the wooden deck beneath them before she took Tally by the shoulders and turned her towards her, Tally’s resistance futile through her exhaustion. “You were not the one to ruin her. There are many people who carry that burden, me included, but you were not the one to seal her fate. And Sarah would say the same. I owe you an apology Tally, I saw your pain and anguish towards her, and used it for my own political gain. I should never have done that Tally, and for that I am truly sorry. Especially now I see the true extent of what it has done to you.”

“But I was the one who dealt that final blow. Literally. I struck her with my scourge when her back was turned. And I see it. I replay it every time I close my eyes. And despite everything that happened afterwards, everything I remember of our time together, it is that one memory which haunts me. I see it…”

Tally’s knees gave out, and Petra stumbled to catch her before she hit the deck, lowering them both down the final few inches as Tally let herself collapse in her arms, sobbing uncontrollably as the last nine months of pain and grief came flooding out in a torrent of emotion. She didn’t feel the gentle soothing of Petra’s fingers through her hair, or the way her lips kissed her temple in a way only a mother could. She didn’t hear the opening of the door, or the sound of her sisters coming to sit beside her, wrapping themselves around the broken form of Tally. She didn’t sense any of it, until her body gave out, exhausted and spent, her grief finally released into the cold Yuletime air.

***

Izadora spun on her heel as she heard the unmistakable anguished cry sounding from the room behind her. Running towards the Mycelium, she was almost blinded by the violent amethyst light which flooded the space, the air dancing with the unmistakable spores which Izadora hadn’t witnessed since Raelle Collar unleashed The Witchbomb nearly a year ago. Her eyes were wide as she began to make out the undeniable form of a body stumble through the mist, falling to their knees with a bone-crunching thud. Frozen to the spot, she gasped as she heard a voice, one she recognised from so many years of her life and she had long given up hope of ever hearing again. It was faint, and rough, as if the vocal cords were overworked and raw, but she would recognise the sound anywhere. And then, as it sounded again, that same rough sound breaking through her stupor, her heart cracked as she made out the word.

Tally.

***

Petra stood at the doors to her garden, looking out over the two women she considered her daughters and the one she had actually given birth to, as they curled up around each other on the porch swing on the deck. She took a sip of her whiskey, sighing as she internally chastised herself for letting things get this far. Tally was the sweetest girl, and although the past year had hardened her, built her into an enviable soldier, her heart had always remained. And while Tally thought that made her weak, Petra knew, now more-so than ever before, it made her strong. She just wished she had seen how broken Tally was before now. It would be a long road to bring her back together, but she knew that Tally would get there, with the help of her sisters. And she would be standing by her side as well, holding her up when she couldn’t stand anymore, drying her tears, and doing her best to heal her heart.

“Petra, love? There’s a phone call for you.” The voice of her husband cut through her thoughts.

“Can you deal with it please, Antoine? I have more urgent matter I need to focus on this evening.”

“I would, but it’s Izadora. She says you need to return to base. And that Tally should come as well. Something…unprecedented has happened with the Mycelium, but she would not tell me more.”

Petra turned at this news. If Izadora was calling her during her Yule break, it must be serious. The fact that it was to do with the Mycelium was even more concerning. And then there was the mention of Tally. Petra strode over to the side table where there was another phone, punching the button which opened the direct secure line to Fort Salem.

“Izadora, this better be good.”

Petra froze as she heard the words down the phone, only moving when Izadora had finished speaking, turning on her heel to look back out the window. Unbelieving at what she had just been told, she stared at the back of the head of red hair, watching as Abigail’s fingers carded through it as her daughter soothed her. After everything which Tally had just released, this could make or finally break the young woman.

***

December 22nd, Yule. The Necropolis, Fort Salem.

Tally didn’t understand what was going on. Her head wasn’t processing anything right now, too many emotions and thoughts filtering through and jumbling up, so she barely registered when she heard Petra re-join them outside, whispering something to Abigail. She moved on auto-pilot as Raelle gently guided her up from the seat, Abigail coming to her other side as they walked her through the house and to the grand lawn which spread out before the Bellweather house. She barely took in the fact that they all were loaded into the helicopter, when they took off and flew across the sky. It was only as she felt the cold air which she recognised as the atmosphere of the Necropolis chill her bones even further that she took notice of her surroundings.

“What are we doing here?” she asked quietly, her voice still rough from the tears she had cried earlier.

“Izadora needed to see us, Tally,” Petra explained.

It was only then that she realised that Izadora was in fact standing before her, a timid yet strangely comforting smile on her face.

“Come with me Tally. I promise, everything is okay,” she said, holding out her hand. Without thinking, she took Izadora’s outstretched hand, the Necro coming to her side and wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her when she took a wobbly step forward. “If you could all stay here. I promise Tally is safe, and I will come back and explain everything in a moment. But right now, I think only Tally should come through.”

Tally could hear the protestations of Abigail and Raelle behind her, and Petra arguing with them softly to trust Izadora, stopping them from following them, the sounds becoming dimmer as Izadora led her towards her office. But before they went through, Izadora stopped, turning to stand in front of Tally.

“Tally, what you are about to see is no doubt going to be a shock, but I want you to try and remember that it is real. She is real. And she is here.”

Tally frowned at Izadora’s cryptic explanation, but before she could try and formulate a response, question what she meant, Izadora opened the door to her office, letting it swing open before taking a step to the side.

Tally couldn’t breathe. Because sitting in front of her, arms resting on her knees, head bowed low and hands clasped together in front of her, was the unmistakable form of the woman she had dreamt about every night for the past nine months. And when she lifted her head at the sound of Izadora clearing her throat, bright, sparkling icy blue eyes locked on Tally, widening slightly, her dark raven hair falling down around her shoulders as she stood, taking a step forwards. Tally watched as she opened her mouth to say something, but before she could hear what it was, Tally’s world tilted on its axis, her vision blurring and her head filling with a buzzing which deafened her. The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the undeniable shape of Sarah Alder rushing towards her, trying and failing to catch her.

***

The first thing Tally was aware of when she started to come to, was the recognisable voice of Abigail, trying and failing to whisper to someone. She was pissed, Tally would recognise that tone anywhere, but what she was pissed at, Tally didn’t know.

The second thing she noticed was the soft gentle caress of fingers through her hair, rhythmically moving in a way which filled her with a warmth and comfort she hadn’t felt in months. As her senses started to return, she also could make out that her head was resting on something warm and soft, and she instinctively turned her face towards it, groaning quietly as even the smallest movement caused the thumping in her head to pulse and intensify. A voice from beside her, maybe from the person she was quite clearly resting on, shushed her.

And then the unmistakable scent of sandalwood and woodsmoke infiltrated her nostrils. Her chest clenched at sensation, and a burst of adrenaline, even though weak, shot through her body as she scrambled up and pushed away from where she was laying.

“Shh, Tally it’s okay.”

“No. No, no, no, this can’t…”

Her head swam, vision clouding again slightly and she must have looked like she felt, like she was about to pass out again, because she could hear that voice call for Izadora, panic lacing every word. “Tally, it’s okay,” she heard Izadora say, before the fuzzy outline of her figure filled her vision. That must be it, she thought to herself, my senses are confused. They're mistaken. Because there was no way she could be feeling what she felt, smelling what she smelt. Seeing who she saw.

“Tally, can you hear me?” Tally managed a small nod, keeping her eyes focussed on Izadora for fear of actually seeing what was behind her. She wasn’t sure which outcome she was more scared of; her eyes deceiving her and it all being an illusion. Or them being right. That in front of her was Sarah Alder.

And with that final thought, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed again.

***

When Tally woke, she instantly noted the fact that she was now, most definitely somewhere more comfortable than last time. She could feel the scratchy sheets beneath her, the tight restricting way they had been tucked in around her body. She’d been in the infirmary enough times to know what it felt like without needing to open her eyes to confirm it. Keeping them shut, her mind filtered through everything that had happened, trying to ascertain how she had ended up here. She remembered speaking to Petra, crying in her arms. She remembered being cocooned in her sister’s arms, crying again. She vaguely remembered being in a helicopter. Had they travelled somewhere? They must have done, and to Fort Salem if she was in the infirmary. Maybe she was suffering more than she had let herself admit. Maybe Petra was so worried about her, she had flown them back to base to be cared for by the Fixers there. Maybe she really was sick, physically sick rather than her mental grief, the exhaustion and pain too much for her weak body to handle. Maybe that was why she saw… Sarah.

It was as clear as day, the image in her mind. Clearer than anything else she could remember from the past twenty four hours. Those bright cobalt eyes regarding her, the pain which was seated so deep as she looked at Tally. The way her hair was different, down as it had been when she was here before but no longer dipped in silver, instead a rich, deep onyx, like a perfect combination of the two Sarah’s she knew. The way she wore sweatpants and a faded Fort Salem hoodie, like she had just raided a first year’s closet. Goddess, not only was her mind playing tricks in her, it was now creating whole new versions of Sarah. She groaned in frustration.

“Tally?”

“Iza—” she coughed, her throat parched and scratching before she could utter another syllable.

“Go steady, Tally. Here.”

Tally turned her face, seeing Izadora standing by her side with a glass of water. She leaned forward, Izadora guiding the straw to her chapped lips, grateful for the assistance as she greedily gulped down the icy cold liquid. Once she was done, she flopped back down the short distance ungracefully.

“What,” she cleared her throat, trying again. “What happened?”

“How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?”

“Just a headache. How long have I been out?”

“A few hours. The shock coupled with your exhaustion knocked you out, but Wick gave you a mild sedative to help you rest.”

“Oh. That must be it.”

“Must be what, Tally?”

“I was…dreaming? Hallucinating?” It must have been a hallucination. Even though the memory was hazy, it definitely didn’t have that fading quality which so often came with remembering a dream.

“About what, Tally?”

“About Sa…Alder.” Tally mentally gave herself a weak pat on the back for remembering that she should use her proper title in front of another officer.

“What do you remember from your…hallucination?” Tally wondered what the hesitation was for in Izadora’s voice. And then wondered why it mattered what she saw, since it obviously wasn’t real. She gave a weak shrug, trying to dismiss it.

“Nothing much. Just that she was here.” Tally noticed Izadora’s eyes flickering somewhere behind her before settling again on her face, her own expression relaxing into something more…resigned.

“Tally, it wasn’t a hallucination.”

Tally laughed weakly. “It had to be. She’s been gone for nearly a year.” When Izadora’s face remained as it was, rather than morphing into sympathetic pity as she expected, a slither of doubt crept its way into her heart. “Hasn’t she?”

“Yes. But I’m back now.”

Tally startled at the familiar voice which sounded from behind her, from where Izadora had looked just a moment ago, and she turned her head to find Sarah standing in the corner of the room. Leaning back against the wall, as if retreating into the shadows, her hands were buried deep in her pockets, uncharacteristically timid in her demeanour. Once again, those eyes were firmly locked on Tally, concern radiating out of them, warring with the tension which Tally could spot in her shoulders even from the other side of the room.

“H-how…”

“I’m going to leave you two to talk, but I’ll be right outside if you need me," Izadora said, placing a hand on Tally’s shoulder, “Either of you.”

But Tally barely registered the words as her gaze was firmly set on the resurrected form which stood across the room. Sarah waited until the door clicked shut, before standing up straight. Tally watched as she moved as if to take a step forward, before seemingly deciding against it and staying where she was, her hands pulling out of her pockets and behind her back, falling into that rigid posture which was so her.

“How are you feeling?” Sarah asked quietly.

“Confused. Really fucking confused,” Tally confessed, decorum and politeness out of the window.

“That’s understandable,” Sarah nodded. “May I come closer? I don’t want you passing out again.”

Tally couldn’t answer, instead nodding, now scared that any sudden movements would shatter the illusion in front of her. Even if this wasn’t real, she wanted it to last as long as possible. She watched as Sarah took long but measured steps towards her bed, that long engrained military stance still evident, shifting the chair beside it so she could be nearer Tally.

“I’m sorry my return has confused you so much, Tally, although I do understand your reaction. I also had, am having, trouble adjusting to this new development, even though I believe it was my doing.”

“Your doing?” Tally watched as Sarah closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she clearly tried to formulate her words. It was strange, seeing the once strong and confident woman so unsure about what she was trying to articulate, but Tally let her have a moment, believing that this must be equally difficult for her as it was Tally.

“I…Once I had returned to The Mother, it was not as restful as I had imagined it would be. Something was disrupting the Mycelium, it felt like it was tearing at it, ripping at its very core, vibrating through me in every moment. My existence was not exactly sentient; it wasn’t like I could communicate or speak with The Mother, I did not know what was happening, but it just felt like something was wrong. Something was calling to me, pushing into my mind. And then there was an image. I had never seen anything before, I do not believe that is how existence in the Mycelium works, but this was so clear. It was myself and Abigail, back in the fields when we were children celebrating Litha. But there was something else there. Someone else.” Sarah paused, looking back at Tally from where her gaze had focussed on the wall behind her during her explanation. “It was you, Tally.”

Tally gasped, suddenly becoming aware of what the image was which Sarah had seen.

“I thought of that,” she whispered, and the look of surprise was mirrored on Sarah’s face. “It was the Summer Solstice. I was thinking about the conversation we had before we travelled to Germany. When you told me about your childhood, and how Litha was your favourite Sabbat.”

“For the first time while in the Mycelium, I felt something. I felt warmth and contentment. I was…happy. But there was also this pain which echoed through. And then there was nothing again, just the tugging and tearing which was there before. Until another image, and another, each time the pain becoming more palpable, more unbearable, until I found myself on the floor of the Necropolis.”

“This is my fault.” Tears streamed down Tally’s face, uncontrollable at the thought that once again she had ruined Sarah’s existence, her own selfishness and pain being the reason for why Sarah had been ripped from her peace. Tally felt Sarah’s cool hands cup her face, pulling it up from where she had buried it in her knees as she curled up, retreating in the horror of what she had once again caused.

“No, Tally. No, this is not your fault. Each memory, however short and fleeting, there was one overriding need throughout them all…to comfort you, to run to you, to ease your burden.” Tally leaned into the touch as Sarah tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, with an act so full of gentle reverence it ached deep in Tally’s soul. “Just as I have always wished to do.”

Another sob broke free from Tally, shaking as Sarah abandoned holding her face for wrapping her arms around her shoulders and pulling her into her chest. Tally sunk into the embrace, letting herself be comforted by the woman who she had dreamed about for months, trying to focus past her tears to savour every moment; the way Sarah falt underneath her arms, the soft tickle of her hair as it fell across her shoulder, the subtle, undeniable scent where her nose pressed against the skin of her neck. Because she still wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t a dream, a cruel illusion which would be ripped away at any moment.

“Oh, Tally, I wish I’d been brave enough to tell you before. To spare you all this pain and suffering.”

Tally pulled back, burned by the implication of Sarah’s words. “I would still have suffered. Do you not know that? I would have still grieved for you, still missed you so much it hurt. That wouldn’t have changed. Knowing wouldn’t have made it any easier.” She let out a weak, watery laugh. “And trust me, I would know about Knowing.”

Sarah smiled, a small, sad gesture before moulding a palm around Tally’s cheek again, pulling their foreheads together. “I have found from experience to not argue with your Knowing.”

***

Some time had passed, Sarah having made herself comfortable on the bed next to Tally, not relinquishing her touch at any point, currently running her fingers through her hair as Tally’s head lay on her chest. They had not spoken for a long time, Tally suspecting that they both needed the silence in order to process what had transpired. Tally had been playing their conversation over in her head, trying to make sense of what Sarah had said, how she came to be here, now, soothing her with gentle touches which never once pushed too far, just somehow giving Tally the right level of comfort she needed.

“So,” Tally cleared her throat, her voice rough and loud in the empty space, “did you choose to leave or did the Mycelium force you?”

She felt the heavy rise and fall as Sarah took a deep breath, her own halting as she waited anxiously for the answer, unsure as to which would be preferable. If Sarah chose to leave, that would be a huge sacrifice, but if she was forced, it was once again another decision which had been taken out of her hands. “I believe I chose to free myself. I spoke to Izadora while you were sleeping, and she informed me that it is not the first time that The Mother, and specifically the Mycelium, has reacted such a way to an overwhelming sense of grief. I was shocked when she told me it was my own grief which created the Mycelium in the first instance. Apparently my song…my song when…”

Tally could sense the struggle at Sarah’s discovery of this information was weighing on her shoulders. She had always assumed that Sarah had known the Mycelium was of her own creation, she knew through Raelle. She had never once stopped to consider that in all the chaos which had occurred in those short few days that no-one had told Sarah.

“When your coven died,” Tally finished for her. She felt Sarah tense beneath her.

“You knew?”

“Yes. Raelle discovered it when she was taken by The Mother. I never thought to say anything, I just assumed you knew. I’m sorry, if I had known, I would have—”

“It is okay, Tally. It was not your place to tell me.”

Tally knew it was something that Sarah should speak about more, but considering the fresh nature of the revelation, it was something which she felt Sarah needed some time to think about. Leaving that particular conversation for another time, she returned to her original question.

“So you could feel my grief? In the Mycelium?”

“I can say for certain I felt something. I did not realise at first it was your grief, just that you were deeply suffering. It was not until Izadora and Petra told me everything that I truly understood what it was. But I believe the initial unrest I felt within the Mycelium was its reaction to it as well.”

Tally shrunk into herself, shame washing over her at the news that Petra had spoken to Sarah. How much had she told her?

“What is it?”

“I…I can’t believe Petra told you everything.”

“Not everything,” Sarah said with another brush of her fingers. “I did not understand what was wrong with you when I first saw you. As well as you collapsing you appeared…it was as though I was seeing a shadow of you. When you fainted, and I held you, all I could focus on was how you didn’t look as I remembered. You were always so proud and big, a force to be reckoned with, even when you doubted yourself. And suddenly, I saw you again for the first time and you were so small and frail.”

“I’m sorry,” Tally muttered, pushing her face further into Sarah’s jumper.

“What are you apologising for?”

“For not being the person you remembered. It must have been a disappointment to come back and see me like…this.”

“Oh. Oh, my darling. You were not, and never have been a disappointment to me. Stubborn, self-righteous, brave to the point of foolishness sometimes, but never a disappointment. And as for what Petra said, she only gave me the barest of details for me to understand. Anything else she said was your story to tell.”

“I…” Tally huffed out a breath, her emotions too fraught to know where to start dissecting everything she had gone through the past year.

“In your own time. When you are ready, I shall be here to listen,” Sarah reassured her, pressing a kiss to Tally’s hair. Tally relaxed at the gesture, grateful for the respite Sarah was providing her.

“So if you chose to leave, how? I mean, you can’t just walk out of the Mycelium.” Tally looked up at Sarah, a frown on her face. “Can you?”

“No, you cannot,” Sarah replied with a chuckle. “Otherwise that would be far too easy, would you not agree?”

“I guess. But if anyone could do it, it would be you,” Tally retorted, dropping her head back down.

Sarah chuckled again, low and rumbling in her chest beneath Tally’s ear. “You always placed me on a pedestal too high. But in answer to your question, although I was not aware of my physical form, it still felt as though I could control it. I was as though I still had the power to will my arms and legs to move, to scream your name and run to you. It felt as though there was a rope, coiling around me, holding me back, restraining me from getting to you. And on that last occasion, the rope snapped and I flung forward. The next thing I remember was Izadora looking at me, her face more shocked than I can ever remember witnessing. While I may consider her one of my closest friends, I’m not sure she ever had wagered on seeing quite as much of me as she did in that moment.”

Tally laughed, a content little sigh, imagining the Necros face at finding Sarah, freshly spat out, cold and n—

“You were naked?” she cried, suddenly realising Sarah’s implication.

“Did you think The Mother chose to return me dressed in this?” Sarah gestured with the hand which wasn’t still keeping its place in Tally’s hair.

“I must admit, the clothes were the thing that convinced me that I must have been hallucinating. I mean, General Alder, in a hoodie? Never thought I’d see the day!”

Tally laughed again, and looked as Sarah smiled down at her. “I have missed this smile,” she said, brushing her finger over the curve of one of Tally’s dimples.

A wave of embarrassment washed over Tally, suddenly shy at the gentle affection which Sarah was so openly displaying towards her.

“Stop it,” she mumbled, burying her face into Sarah’s hoodie, “or I’ll tell everyone how adorable you look in a hoodie.”

“No one would believe your slanderous claims,” Sarah retaliated, her tone full of mirth.

***

“What were they?” They had spent the past Goddess-knows-how-long curled up in companionable silence, Sarah’s ministrations though Tally’s hair never once stopping, Tally focussing on the rise and fall of Sarah’s chest underneath her cheek.

“What were what, my darling?” Tally practically melted at the term of endearment which slipped effortlessly from Sarah’s lips.

“The moments. Do you remember them?”

Sarah hummed. “Some of them. Some are much clearer than others. Some now exist only as a memory of the emotions which were evoked rather than the images I saw, while others still seem very vivid.” Tally flicked her eyes upwards, not wanting to move her head from the steady thrum of Sarah’s heart beneath her ear, yet still wanting to see her face. “One, I remember the brightest emerald green, and the sun, lighting up your hair like flames, but there were no other details. Another, I was in the woods, my mother was there, but I was older than when she was alive, and there was a Samhain candle.…but I wasn’t alone. I could sense you, standing behind me. And this last time, it was…it was as though there were a million different memories, bleeding into one. One moment we were in The Tarim, the next in the hangar, then in the garden at the Cession…” Tally inhaled a sharp breath, bringing Sarah out of her thoughts. “What is it?”

“Those were your strongest memories?”

“Yes, why?”

“Abigail and Raelle dragged me to the Lughnasadh market. Raelle showed me these earrings. They were this beautiful jade colour, but I didn’t buy them because she said they reminded her of my outfit at her wedding, and all I could think of was when I’d seen you there after returning from Germany. On Samhain I ran into the woods after blowing up at some cadets. I spent the evening thinking of the time you told me you had only called upon your mother once during the Defending of Hearth. And finally yesterday, I told Petra how being a Biddy only heightened everything I already felt for you, but how I felt I’d ruined it all by being so fucking selfish in forcing you to try and talk to me.” Tally looked up at Sarah, confusion on her own face as she tried to figure out what Tally was trying to say. “Litha. Lughnasadh. Samhain. And yesterday was—”

“Yule,” Sarah finished for her.

“Do you…I mean do you think it has something to do with it? About why you could feel me so strongly during those times?”

Sarah shuffled back against the bed, clearly pondering Tally’s question. “I mean, it is well known that the Goddess’s power is strongest during the Sabbats. Maybe that, combined with the vast extent of your grief, is responsible for returning me here.” Tally shivered, suddenly aware how the temperature had dropped in the room, the warmth from Sarah’s embrace dissipating slightly as she readjusted her position. Sarah reached over Tally, pulling a blanket over the pair of them when she noticed that she was cold, before resting her hand lightly on Tally’s hip. “Stranger things have been known to happen.”

“Have they? Stranger than being resurrected not once but twice? I think you win on strange things happening, Sarah.”

“That's the first time you said my name,” Sarah muttered into Tally’s hair, tears evident in the tremble of her voice. “Or at least, since I have returned. It is the sweetest sound to this old woman’s soul.”

“Sarah?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Please, don’t leave me again. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to lose you another time.”

“Oh Tally, do you not realise by now that it has never been my choice to leave you. But it was my choice to return. And should you have me, I choose to spend every precious moment of my second chance by your side.”

Tally tried to hold back another wave of tears which threatened to engulf her, letting her eyes flutter closed as Sarah lifted her hand, brushing one away with the pad of her thumb. The action was so gentle, barely a whisper of a touch, but it reverberated through Tally’s whole body.

“It won’t be easy—” Tally wasn’t sure if she was referring to the fact that they would have to explain Sarah’s return, again, or her own emotionally fragile state.

“When have we ever been easy, Tally? We both have things we shall need to face, but I promise I shall be by your side throughout. And I am certain with you next to me, my own demons will not appear as dark as they once did.”

“All I ever wanted was for you to let me in. To help me understand.” Tally heard Sarah release a resigned sigh, her breath tickling over her lips as they leaned into each once again. Tally had imagined moments like these so many times, soft gentle moments where they just existed with each other, where they spoke candidly, shared their hopes and dreams and fears with one another. There was a time, as fleeting as it was when she considered it a possibility, but that died the day Sarah returned to The Mother. But now, could she really let herself believe that this could be her reality?

“What are you thinking of?” Sarah asked quietly.

Tally let herself fall forward, pressing her forehead to Sarah’s before closing her eyes. “I’ve imagined this so many times. And while I know you are here, I am struggling to let myself believe that this could really play out how I have dreamt it to.”

“How can I change that? How can I calm your fears, my darling?”

“I…I don’t—” Tally’s words were cut off with the gentle press of Sarah’s lips against her own, soft and delicate as to not overwhelm her, but with a firm certainty which allowed Tally no doubt that this was what Sarah wanted. After the kiss, which simultaneously seemed to last a lifetime and yet be over too quickly, Tally felt Sarah lean back, ending the embrace but staying in her space, her thumb rubbing a soothing pattern across the place where her dimple sat. “Does that help settle your fears?” Tally heard Sarah whisper into the space between them.

“Mmhmm,” Tally replied, but before she could consider forming anything more coherent, a yawn broke across her face. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled, covering her mouth with her hand as another yawn rolled over her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. As I understand it, you have probably not slept properly for quite some time, and the past few hours have been particularly exhausting for us both. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?” Sarah said, as she began to shuffle away from Tally. But before she could get far, Tally’s hand gripped around her wrist, a tension shooting through her body. Sarah halted immediately, looking at Tally’s expression, before softening. “I am not going anywhere, I am just getting the spare blanket from the bottom of the bed.”

Tally nodded, feeling instantly foolish at her rash reaction. As if sensing her still erratic thoughts, Sarah laid back down, bringing the blanket with her and draping it over Tally and then herself. Once she was done, Sarah lifted her arm, gesturing for Tally to shuffle closer, and Tally sighed as her head found the spot on Sarah’s chest she had claimed as her own. Those long, delicate fingers immediately started their rhythm through her hair, and within seconds her eyelids began to flutter closed lazily. For the first time in months, Tally wasn’t afraid of the cruel tricks her mind could play on her, wasn’t in fear of the dreams which could plague her. Not when beating in her ear, like a perfect lullaby was the strong, regular beat of Sarah’s heart.

***

If Tally wasn’t so tired, she might have been able to make out the patterns that Sarah idly drew across her spine with the tip of her finger as a protection sigil.

And if her body and mind wasn’t so spent she might have felt Sarah subtly squeeze her closer and breathe in her scent, settling her own loud and raging mind.

And if she wasn't about to slip into the deepest slumber she had experienced for months, she might have been able to distinguish the whispered sound of a blessing in Mothertongue, breathed across the top of her head, before a kiss was placed there. But as it was, she was too exhausted to register any of it.

***

For Sarah, it didn’t matter that Tally never heard the first time she said she loved her. Because it was not the first time she had thought it. And it would not be the last time she spoke it. Because on this Sabbat day, on this shortest day, Sarah Alder's longest night was over, and her new dawn was finally on the horizon.

***