Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Tally isn’t sure how long she kneels there, hunched over in the dirt with her knees in the grass. She clutches Sarah’s scourge tight in both hands. As she cradles the leather close to her chest, her tears fall freely. They go much longer than Tally wishes, but they eventually run their course. Her ragged breath rattles her a little less, but the bone deep ache to have Sarah back does not wane. It’s always been a hollowness that followed her since Sarah had disappeared, but right now she can’t push it away. She can’t ignore it. It is a heavy thing, to sit with the knowledge she must learn to live with it.

Eventually.

By the time Tally gets her breathing under control, she is acutely aware of how empty she feels. She knows she should head back at some point. That it is not healthy to sit in the middle of the forest while a storm creeps closer. She can’t help but think of Sarah when the distant thunder claps and wind begins to pick up. How a storm like this makes her feel like Sarah is nearby. Tally clings to that feeling, not yet ready to let it go and tilts her face up to the sky.

“Sarah,” she breathes out, memorizing the way the name feels as she says it.

The clouds continue to roll in. Tally stays there, kneeling until her mind and body calm. The thunder rumbles again while the wind rustles along the leaves. The night begins to conquer the sky and the like quickly starts to fade.

Tally knows that soon the forest will be near pitch dark if she doesn’t get a move on. She takes a deep breath and steels herself before she pushes against her thighs to stand up. After taking a brief moment to wipe her cheeks dry, she coils Sarah’s scourge and tucks it into the back of her jeans, under her shirt. She finds her eyes drawn to the poor tree she had cut during her earlier outburst. The deep gash across the length of its trunk is struck in a sharp diagonal line. She winces ever so slightly, hoping she hadn’t done too much damage to it.

Tally turns with the intent to head back, but as she does, the lacerations in the tree begin to glow a soft purple. Faint at first before quickly growing brighter. Tally makes it only two steps before she feels the back of her neck prickle and the glow has gotten so bright that it catches her attention. She looks over her shoulder at the tree, eyes going wide when she sees the vibrant light.

Her heart begins to pound, so loud she can hear its rhythm in her head. She narrows her eyes with a twitch as she tries to focus her Sight, but no vision and no feeling of imminent danger sweeps through her. She reaches behind her and grips the scourge until her knuckles are white, the seams of braided leather pressing deep into the skin of her lower back. Not in caution, but in hope.

“Sarah?” Tally whispers with an ache in her voice, loud in the quiet of the clearing.

Darkness.

Sarah traverses it with a strange sense of awareness. Though blind, she feels strangely aware of the space around her. There is nothing to actually see, but there is an explicable pull in one direction. It was as if she was standing in a tunnel and feeling the current of wind flowing strongly from one end to the other.

Pushing her in the direction she wants to go.

It’s odd how the surrounding black feels almost…alive. Sentient. It guides and pushes and surrounds Sarah, yet at times she feels like she’s floating on nothing. Sometimes she’s not sure if she's corporeal at all.

Tally.

Sarah thinks of her name and she hears her own voice whisper through her mind before it’s pulled away into the flowing current of darkness.

Sarah follows it like she’s chasing a feather taken by the wind.

Tally.

Her name echoes in Sarah’s mind over and over. Where it had first been a weak whisper, it now sounds loud in the ethereal space around her. It only grows stronger the further along she follows the current.

Tally.

Time means very little in the mycelium. Sarah is not sure how much time passes as she drifts along.

At some point, moving through the darkness begins to feel harder. Tougher. It begins to feel like she needs to be physically pushed forward. The dark gathers and billows behind her, pushing more and more. But it feels as if she is going nowhere. She knows she must make this last effort herself.

The final crossing.

With sheer determination, Sarah wills herself past the threshold between this world and the living above. The next thing she becomes aware of is her body stepping forward. Walking where she was once floating. Ground where there had been none.

She thinks of Tally again, but this time she hears her own voice.

“Tally!” Sarah cries out, though the name gets lost in the dark.

Sarah…

Like a beacon, Tally’s voice calls to her. Sarah uses all her willpower to surge toward it.

There is light. Miniscule in the distance, but Sarah knows without a shadow of a doubt that she will find Tally there. Sarah reaches for it, feeling her arm and hand stretching out where she couldn’t feel them before. There is a rushing sound, like the eternal roar of waves crashing on miles of shoreline, like the deafening wind of a blizzard. It rises in pitch until it sounds like a scream—like Work.

The mycelium—and Sarah—burst forth through the veil of light in a flurry of golden spores.

For a moment, Sarah still cannot see. Everything is blurry, too bright, but her eyes quickly begin to adjust. There is a gasp and a shuffle of noise. She turns toward it.

“Sarah?” It’s only a whisper, but within the quiet of it all is deep relief and longing.

Sarah walks forward, blinking, and when the blinding brightness finally dissipates—there is Tally Craven.

Tally, who stares back at Sarah with utter surprise but so, so much hope. Tally takes a couple of hesitant steps but then the next few are far more sure until she crosses the space between them. She crashes into Sarah, arms wrapping tight around the whole of her with her face pressed into the fabric of Sarah’s shoulder.

Sarah lifts her arms instinctually, but then they hesitate and hover just an inch away. It’s when Tally lets out a shuddering breath that rattles her whole body, fingers clutching at the back of Sarah’s coat, does Sarah give in and tighten her hold around her. She buries her nose in Tally’s hair and breathes her in, eyes shutting tight.

“You came back,” Tally chokes out, leaning her forehead against Sarah’s, not quite opening her eyes just yet. Feeling, just feeling.

“I did,” Sarah whispers into the space between them, voice hoarse and gravelly.

Tally pulls back just enough for her hands to reach up to either side of Sarah’s face. Her eyes bounce back and forth between Sarah’s, like she still can’t quite believe she’s real. “How? How are you…” she trails off.

Sarah frowns, thinking about it. “I could hear you. It was dark, but I could feel where you were. So I walked toward you and kept going until there was light, and then…there was you.”

Tally laughs. “I have no idea what that means.” She blinks rapidly at the tears lingering in the corners of her eyes and a hopeful note enters her voice when she asks, “You’re back for real this time? For good?”

Sarah nods. “For good, Tally.”

Tally wraps tight around Sarah again, burying her face in the crook of Sarah’s neck. “Thank the goddess.”

There, in a clearing of a forest in Northern California, Sarah Alder comes back to life in the arms of a witch whose voice called her back from death.

Sarah is alive.

One more time.

It quickly becomes apparent that it is too dark to stay out there in the middle of the woods. The clouds look as if they will open up and unleash their torrent at any moment. Sarah summons a faint witchlight and that makes it easy enough for Tally, knowing these woods as well as she does, to navigate back to the compound.

“Why here?” Tally asks as they make their way. Sarah looks at her with a bit of confusion, so Tally clarifies, “I mean, why not Fort Salem?”

Sarah doesn’t answer right away, but it’s clear she is thinking about it. Then she says, very simply, “You.”

"Me?" Tally steals a glance in surprise, but Sarah’s gaze is staring forward, steadfast. Tally quickly whips her eyes forward to do the same.

Sarah continues to explain, "Perhaps if you had been at Fort Salem, I would have appeared there.”

In a way that is both casual and yet full of nerves, Tally asks, “Is that it? The only reason?”

Sarah waits a beat before answering. “You needed help.”

“Right, of course, you’re back to help.” Tally’s expression scrunches in confusion. “How did you know?”

“I could hear you,” Sarah says, “when I was on the other side.”

Tally’s eyes go wide. “You could…hear me? What do you mean?” then with a touch of concern, “What exactly did you hear?”

“It happened only a few times and it was never on purpose.” Sarah finally looks at her in the eyes. “You seemed in distress every time. You couldn’t hear me when I tried to speak back to you.”

“Oh.” Tally goes quiet, then takes a few quick steps ahead.

Sarah’s eyes dig into the back of her head, wondering if what she said bothered Tally, but then Tally is gesturing back at Sarah to stop moving as she surveys where the treeline breaks into open ground. They’re not terribly close to houses…yet. The homes are within sight and Tally can make out a few squares of light from illuminated windows. Not many, but enough to keep Tally wary.

“You should probably keep your head down,” Tally says, looking Sarah up and down. “I don’t know that it would be a good idea for someone to recognize you before we figure out what’s going on.”

Sarah glances down at herself, clad in the same dark coat, pants, and boots that she had been wearing the last time she came back from the mycelium. “I shouldn’t be too noticeable unless someone is close to us. It’s night and considering how long I’ve been around, you’d be surprised at the amount of people that don’t recognize me when I’m not in uniform.” She snuffs out the witchlight in her palm, plunging them back into darkness save for the distant neighborhood lights.

Satisfied with her survey, Tally leads them out of the woods. Once they hit pavement, Tally does her best to avoid the areas lit up by street lamps. It’s just late enough that there’s nobody out and about. Despite that, Tally is very careful about the path she takes. She knows the witches that live within the compound have laid various wards on and around their properties. Nothing dangerous, per se, just benign Work meant to tip off the inhabitant if someone was trespassing, but Tally is keen to avoid unnecessary attention.

Luckily, she knows exactly which houses to avoid. She doesn’t even need her Sight for it, having spent so much time learning how to thread between them, both as a child and recently. She can practically feel the Work in the air as she gets close to some houses. It’s almost too easy, and Tally feels herself begin to relax a little as they turn a corner and her home comes into view down the street. She begins to quietly ramble about the matrifocal community as they trek along the darkened sidewalks. Which houses were the first lots. The curb she crashed into at ten-years-old after she learned how to ride a bike. The neighbor’s flower bed that Tally accidentally lit on fire the first time her magic flared uncontrollable from her emotions the year after that.

Sarah listens in the sense that she nods along and makes small sounds of acknowledgement, but her head is on a swivel, making a continuous sweep left and right for danger. The corners of her eyes are crinkled with suspicion. Eventually, whether it’s the lack of running into any problems or the gentle cadence of Tally’s voice, she too begins to relax, her attention turning to the witch walking beside her.

For lack of a better description, Tally looks haggard. It doesn’t take away from her natural beauty, but Sarah senses an air of exhaustion emanating from her. Sarah has been a soldier long enough to recognize that it’s not a physical weariness, but an emotional and mental one. Despite that, every time Tally chances a glance at Sarah, her face brightens and a smile tugs at her lips.

Sarah cares about her, worries about her. She begins to ask, “Tally—”

“Tally, is that you?” A woman’s voice calls out from the dark.

They both stop short and turn sharply toward it. They can barely see the silhouette of the woman sitting in the dark and shadowed corner of an unlit porch. A spot of orange burns bright—an ember of a cigarette or joint—followed by a long exhale that makes the ember flicker. Tally sighs in relief. Her home is just a couple of doors down from them and they’re so close that it would be a shame to run into trouble now.

“Are you smoking in the dark again, Mrs. Baxter?” Tally calls out, not too loudly considering the hour. She blindly reaches next to her to place a hand on Sarah’s arm to signal that it was okay.

“You’d think I’d get away with it at this hour,” the woman’s voice comes back, “but you always seem to catch me at it. Who is that with you?”

“Don’t be nosy,” Tally avoids the question with a teasing lilt while subtly maneuvering herself in front of Sarah. She doubts Mrs. Baxter could recognize Sarah in the shadows, but it never hurt to be careful. “Just a friend.”

“Can’t blame me for being a little curious that you’re bringing just-a-friend home at this time of night.” A chuckle, then the ember burns bright again. The plume of smoke is easier to see as their eyes adjust to the dark. “How about you don’t tell my wife about my smoke and I won’t tell May about your just-a-friend.”

“Deal,” Tally agrees quickly with a good natured chuckle. “Have a good night, Mrs. Baxter.”

“Good night, Tally—and Tally’s friend.”

Tally quickly tugs on Sarah’s hand and leads her away. Thankfully, they don’t run into anyone else along the short distance to Tally’s house. It’s only when they get up the driveway and to the door that Tally finally lets go of Sarah’s hand to fish her keys out of her pocket. The front porch light was still on, so Tally surreptitiously peeks through the window for any sign of May. The living room is low lit, so she unlocks and opens the door slowly. She takes a couple slow steps inside, peeking around the door and peering down the hallway. Save for the living room, the rest of the house is dark. May is nowhere in sight.

“Pretty sure my mom has already gone to bed. Follow me this way,” Tally whispers, grabbing Sarah’s hand again and leading her through the house and up the stairs. She eventually drags Sarah into a dark room that, once inside, Tally quickly shuts the door behind them and locks with a sigil. When she flips the light on, it reveals her modest bedroom.

Tally relaxes for a split second before tensing up just as quickly as everything hits her all at once. She spins to face Sarah, eyes wide.

“You’re actually here,” Tally says before her hands fly up in a panic to grab at her own head. “Goddess, Salem was attacked and you’re here.” Tally sucks in a breath and purses her lips at the gravity of the situation.

Panic lurches through Sarah. “What?!” she exclaims. “Fort Salem is under attack?”

Tally winces at the volume and motions for Sarah to be quieter, glancing over her shoulder at her closed door as if May might burst through at any moment.

“Sorry, not Fort Salem. Salem Town. Well, not just Salem Town. It’s happening in the Cession too, but I had a vision of the Salem Daily Press being burned down,” Tally starts speaking faster, a nervous anxiety lacing through her voice, “only I didn’t realize it until after I saw it on the news today. I was having visions of it—but Raelle and Abigail convinced me it was just a dream—”

“Tally,” Sarah interrupts, placing her hands on Tally’s shoulders to steady her. Though she speaks lower, her tone is still intense. Tally quiets at her touch, locks her gaze on Sarah and listens as she tells Tally calmly, “Slow down, breathe, and then explain what is going on.”

Tally nods and takes a breath to steady herself before continuing, “There’s been unrest across the country and witches are being attacked. A lot of people are angry about the Mother’s gift—they…they don’t want it.” Tally’s expression becomes pained and confused, her voice starting to shake a little as her emotions rise. “We did so much to save everyone and it feels like the same hate and the same civil war as before is still at our doorstep. I just don’t understand why we did everything that we did. What was even the point—”

“You saved the world,” Sarah interrupts her again with a sharp and serious gleam in her eye. “Everyone would be dead if it weren’t for what we did. If it weren’t for your vision and guidance.”

Tally shakes her head. “But everyone—”

“But nothing. I speak from experience when I say that no matter what you do to try and protect everyone, there is always someone who will be angry at you for it. You’ve made the best decision you could at the moment. There will always be someone who disagrees with you,” at that she gives Tally a pointed look, “or your methods.” Her gaze softens. “It’s unavoidable. Trust me when I tell you this.”

“I trust you,” Tally replies in a soft whisper. She stares at Sarah quietly for a moment, then her shoulders shrug as she lets out a resigned sign. “What do we do?”

Sarah’s chest clenches at the sight of Tally looking so lost and unsure. She cannot help but pull Tally in and hug her. “We’ll figure it out,” she murmurs into the crown of Tally’s hair. Without hesitating, like she had been waiting for it, Tally leans into her comfort, releasing a breath of relief into Sarah’s shoulder.

There’s a soft but firm knocking on Tally’s bedroom door. Sarah and Tally spring apart.

“Tally?” May’s muffled voice comes through from the other side. “Are you okay? You’ve been gone for a while and I was worried when you rushed out like that earlier.”

“Yup! Sorry about that—all good now! So good. Home safe and sound right here. In my room,” Tally calls back as she needlessly tugs at the hem of her shirt. “Thanks for checking on me, Mom. Didn't mean to worry you.”

There’s a poignant pause before May asks again, “Are you sure you’re okay? I thought…it sounded like you might have been talking to someone just now.”

“I’m fine. Everything’s fine,” Tally replies very quickly. “Just. Talking out loud. To myself.”

Sarah raises a brow at her. Tally shrugs back helplessly.

There’s another pause that feels deceptively discerning before May says in a matching tone of voice, “Well, I’m glad you came home safe.” She does not sound reassured by Tally’s words, but nevertheless, leaves with a defeated, “Goodnight, sweetie.”

Tally steps close to the door, leaning to get her ear close to the wood. She waits silently, listening closely to the sound of her mother’s footsteps padding back down the hall. There is the distant sound of May’s bedroom door clicking shut.

At the sound, Sarah begins to say, perhaps a bit too quietly, “Tally—”

“We need to get to Fort Salem,” Tally says quickly at the same time, voice hushed and distressed, but still barreling over Sarah. She makes a beeline for her closet, not hearing Sarah at all, and throws the closet open. She starts digging through it, thinking out loud, “Flying is out of the question. There’s no way we’ll get past that many people without someone recognizing you, much less security. Goddess knows how the public—everyone, really—would react to you coming back,” she continues to ramble while Sarah watches her toss clothes onto the bed. “I suppose we could just drive, even if it takes longer. It’ll probably be best to bring a week’s worth of spare clothes, does that sound right? Maybe I should just get a hold of Petra. She could send a private—”

“We’re not telling Petra,” Sarah says, swift and firm. Tally shoots a confused look over her shoulder at Sarah, looking like she’s about to protest. Sarah adds, “Yet.”

Tally frowns, throwing a couple of flannels onto the bed absentmindedly. “Why wait?”

Sarah’s mouth opens to reply, but there’s a moment where she says nothing, then she snaps her mouth shut, jaw muscles clenching. “We need more time to figure out what’s going on before telling anyone else that I have returned.”

Tally’s head tilts as she narrows her eyes suspiciously at Sarah. “That’s it?”

Sarah huffs at her, but begrudgingly says, “I’m not ready to trust anyone else right now.” Her gaze skitters away for the briefest moment before coming back and landing on Tally. “Besides you.”

That sets Tally back on her heels. “Oh.” Seemingly at a loss for words, Tally faces the closet again, but just stares into it aimlessly, thoughts elsewhere.

“Tally?”

“Hmm?” Tally looks at her, eyebrows high.

Sarah is looking at the pile of clothes on the bed. “What is your plan?”

Tally pulls a couple of military issue duffle bags from her closet and tosses them on the bed alongside the clothes.

“We should head out now if we want to avoid my mom. We'll take the truck—I’ll apologize to her about that later. This is too important.” Tally grimaces at that, but is nonetheless matter-of-fact about her plan of action. She starts shoving clothes into both bags, rather carelessly. Sarah’s brow twitches briefly at the lack of efficient, precise military packing, but bites her tongue. Tally continues on, “I have plenty in my savings to get us across the country. I figured we could iron out the details along the way.”

Sarah nods in agreement. “That would give us more time to assess our options. It will be easier to avoid others if we don’t go through major transit centers like an airport.”

“Yeah…” Tally trails off as she finally has most of the clothes packed. She hesitates a moment before reaching back behind herself and grabbing the coiled scourge she had haphazardly shoved into the back of her jeans. She holds it with both hands in front of herself, staring at it before turning to Sarah and holding the scourge out to her. “You probably want this back. It’s…well, it’s yours.”

Sarah takes it and looks down at the scourge with a discerning eye. She runs her fingers along the braided leather, feeling its familiarity. “Where is yours?” she asks Tally.

“I left it at Fort Salem.” Tally shrugs. “I suppose it’s still there somewhere.”

“You didn’t take it with you?”

“I didn’t think I’d need it.”

Sarah looks at her inquisitively. “Where did you get this?” She is curious, but not upset.

At that, Tally fidgets a bit. “Umm, well, Petra gave it to me—she thought you might be okay with that, since Anacostia…”

“Since Anacostia wasn’t around to accept it,” Sarah finishes for her. She goes quiet, looking down at the scourge again. Her grip tightens before she offers it back to Tally. “Keep it.”

Tally looks at her with surprise. “Really?” Her hands tentatively come up to take the scourge back but not quite closing the distance.

“Petra was right, I would have wanted you to have it. I want you to have it.” Sarah gently grabs Tally’s hand and firmly wraps it around the dark leather. “Besides, it wouldn’t do for me to hold onto it if I’m trying to keep a low profile. I’ll pick up another at the armory at Salem, if I must.”

“Okay,” Tally says, somewhat in a daze. She looks at Sarah in much the same way. “Thank you.”

Sarah shrugs it off, switching the subject by looking Tally up and down, then saying, “You look exhausted.”

Tally looks like she’s about to protest, but at Sarah’s hard look, her shoulders heave with the burden of what she’s been through, “It’s been a long year. It’s been…a little difficult.”

Suddenly, it’s like the weight of the world sits on Tally’s shoulders. Sarah can tell she is trying to hide it, to keep it together, but she sees the way Tally clutches to the scourge like a lifeline. Sarah frowns, knowing there is more than just simple physical exhaustion afflicting Tally.

Sarah makes a decision then and there.

“Leaving for Salem can wait,” Sarah says decidedly, nodding at Tally’s bed. “You should rest first, and then we can depart. Early morning, if need be, but let’s not start exhausted right out of the gate.”

Tally is immediately shaking her head before Sarah finishes speaking. “What about everything going on? We need to try to get back as soon as we can.”

“I’ve barely been back for more than a couple of hours. Give me one night where I don’t have to worry about a war or the end of the world,” Sarah tells her, pinning Tally with a knowing look, “and I think maybe you can use that too. We can tackle everything in the morning after a good night’s rest.”

“But—”

“You need sleep.” Sarah squares her shoulders,  then goes for a tried and true tactic. “That’s an order.”

Tally’s eyebrows go high. Very high. She might have taken Sarah seriously if it weren’t for the little quirk of a smile at the corner of Sarah’s mouth.

“Okay then, ma’am.” Tally plays along. “Sleep it is.”

Sarah gives her a curt nod of satisfaction, then surveys the room in the span of a second. “I’ll setup on the floor.”

“What? No, take the bed or,” Tally practically trips over her next words, “or we could share. It’s big enough.” She clears her throat. “I’ve shared much smaller with Raelle and Abigail.”

Sarah cocks a brow at her, only briefly, before giving Tally a perfunctory nod. She moves to the far side of the bed, sits down, and begins to take off her shoes. Tally mouth is a little agape, as if she can’t quite believe that Sarah agreed so easily and that this is how her night is unfolding.

Getting ready for bed is a simple affair. Sarah opts to sleep in her own clothes, a black and pants just loose enough. She keeps her back turned by tidying her boots and folding her coat neatly while Tally changes into her sleepwear, only turning back around once she hears Tally stop shuffling about.

Tally catches sight of Sarah staring past her, a curious expression on her face. “What is it?” Tally asks.

Sarah smirks, nodding her chin toward Tally’s closet. “Is that…me?”

Tally whips around and, yes, right there on the inside of her wide open closet door is her poster of General Sarah Alder staring right back at them. Tally quickly snatches a spare pillow from the closet and slams the door shut. She steps back toward the bed, feeling the heat of a blush on her cheeks. Sarah cannot help but chuckle at her.

Tally huffs and throws the pillow at her—to her consternation Sarah nimbly catches it—and says, “I changed my mind, you can sleep on the floor.”

Sarah shrugs. “I will if you truly want me to.” But there is a knowing glint in her eye as she looks at Tally.

Tally rolls her eyes. “No.”

Sarah grins and situates the pillow on her side of the bed, then slips under the covers. Tally turns the light off before joining her. They both lie there on their backs, not touching and separated only by a scant sliver of space.

“Goodnight,” Tally murmurs quietly.

Sarah closes her eyes and says back, “Goodnight, Tally.”

Several minutes pass. Actually lying down, actually resting, is surprisingly more relaxing than Sarah anticipated. So much has happened in such a short amount of time, but here in the isolation of Tally’s room, Sarah holds onto this short moment, this small oasis of peace and quiet. She feels, then, the bone-deep ache of pushing herself between worlds. Feels a heaviness in her lids that she hasn’t felt in a very, very long time and it feels so very human.

For now, she can just exist.

Sarah doesn’t quite fall asleep. There’s a tense energy emanating from Tally, stock still beside her on her half of the bed. Sarah waits it out, focusing on her breathing until Tally is ready.

A good fifteen, perhaps twenty minutes pass.

“Sarah?” Tally asks softly in the dark.

Sarah lazily blinks her eyes open, staring up at the ceiling, dimly lit by the moonlight coming through the window. “Yes?”

Tally rolls to face her. For a little bit, it’s just Tally fidgeting, but Sarah continues to wait patiently. Eventually, Tally says into the small space between them, “I’m sorry.”

Sarah knew it was coming. Knew it the moment she heard Tally’s voice in the mycelium calling out to her. She remembers Tally’s words. Sarah turns onto her side too. There are many things she could say, or ask. She could ask Tally what exactly she was apologizing for, and make her work for it. Give her a lecture on the consequences of her actions, how much it had hurt Sarah, how betrayed she had felt by Tally choices. But the truth of the matter was clear to Sarah. It has been for a while.

When Sarah doesn’t say anything right away, Tally continues, “I’m sorry for everything. I never got a chance to tell you before and I told myself that if I ever got the chance—I want you to know that when I—”

“Tally,” Sarah interrupts her gently. She reaches out and brushes Tally’s cheek with the back of her knuckles, “I forgave you a long time ago.”

Tally’s breath catches, choking out, “Sarah.”

Sarah’s hand slips around Tally’s shoulder and pulls her in. She feels Tally tuck under her chin, gripping at her shirt, her shoulders shaking as her emotions overflow and a few tears escape. Sarah holds her until Tally settles and her breathing evens out, then keeps holding her.

Sarah tells her, a faint murmur in the night, “I’m sorry too.”

Tally’s fingers clutch her shirt tighter.

Something is off.

Tally feels too comfortable, too rested. It takes more than a moment for her to realize that she is resting on Sarah’s shoulder with Sarah’s arm curled around her. It’s warm and cozy under the blankets, but the room is too bright.

“Shit,” Tally groans out, sitting upright and looking at the window where it’s clear that the sun has risen. She looks over to her bedside clock and realizes it is just past seven in the morning. She says again, more emphatically, “Shit.”

“What is it?” Sarah’s tired voice croaks out. She frowns and rubs at her eyes.

“We slept in.” Tally jumps out of bed, hurrying to her closet and beginning to change into day clothes quickly. “We need to move, my mom will be up any moment and we need to get out of here with the truck without her knowing.” A shirt goes flying and the next moment Tally is hopping up and down getting a pair of jeans on.

Sarah groans, but gets moving and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. “Bags are packed?” She shoves her feet into her shoes and grabs her coat.

“Yes, those are good to go,” Tally says, but then looks over at Sarah and pauses for a moment while she takes in the striking outfit that Sarah is wearing. The same outfit that Sarah had been seen in several times just the year before. “Hey—wait, let me grab you something else to wear.”

Sarah looks down at her outfit. “What’s wrong with this? It’s comfortable.”

“So is this,” Tally says as she pulls out and lobs a plain blue and white plaid flannel at Sarah, “and far too many people have seen you wearing that.” She points at Sarah’s coat.

Sarah catches the shirt and frowns at it, but acquiesces. “I suppose you’re right.” She shucks the coat off and dons the flannel instead. “I suppose this is comfortable enough” she murmurs, more to herself than anything.

“Told you.” Tally grins at her while tossing a beanie at Sarah. “I doubt anyone would recognize you if you wore that.”

“We’ll see,” Sarah says but doesn’t put it on.

Tally grabs the bags, handing one to Sarah. “Ready?”

Sarah nods. “Let’s go.”

They tuck close to the door and Tally says, with her hand on the doorknob, “Okay, we’ve got to be quiet—goddess!!” As soon as Tally opens the door she finds May standing on the other side, hand raised in motion to knock.

May’s face is a picture of confusion. “Tally? I made…breakfast,” she says haltingly, looking Tally up and down, then spotting the shape of another person behind her daughter. She frowns. “Do you have someone over?” Instinctually, she leans in to get a better look and her eyes widen as soon as she sights Sarah.

For a moment, May and Sarah just stare at each other. Sarah, with her jaw clenched, her expression a mix of defiance and resigned acceptance of the situation. May, on the other hand, goes through a range of emotions. Perplexed. Recognition. Confusion, again. Then they tighten with suspicion.

May plants her hands on her hips. “What are you doing in my home?”

May takes a step forward like she’s about to get right up into Sarah space, but Tally plants a hand on the door frame and very purposefully keeps herself between them. May cranes her neck to look around her and glare at Sarah.

Tally sighs. “Mom, I can explain.”

May doesn’t seem to hear her at all, narrowed eyes trying to pin Sarah down. “And in my daughter’s room?”

“Mom, stop.”

May’s eyes take in the shirt that Sarah is wearing. “Wearing my daughter’s clothes?” she says, voice rising in pitch with no small amount of disdain. “Goddess help me, I can’t believe I’m dealing with this. It’s barely past seven in the morning.”

“Mom,” Tally grits out more aggressively.

May’s eyes finally shoot over to Tally and it’s the same exasperated expression she wore when she had found Tally’s stash of Reveille magazines when she was seventeen. “I’m very interested to hear your explanation,” May says, wholly sarcastic.

Sarah’s eyes bounce back and forth between them she ventures to say, “I was—”

“Don’t,” both Tally and May snap at her at the same time.

Sarah gives them both an offended look and, with a huff, shoves the beanie on her head and promptly walks between them and out of the room. The eyes of the Craven women trail after Sarah—May with frustration, Tally with something soft and longing. May glances at her—a double take when she catches the way Tally stares. She frowns, lips pursing tightly.

They wait until the heavy fall of Sarah’s footsteps make it to the bottom of the stairs.

Tally tears her eyes, looking at May, and rolls her eyes at the expression on her mother’s face. “Can you just let it—”

“Oh, spare me, Tally,” May interrupts her. “You’ve had a poster of that woman on your closet door since you were thirteen.”

Tally throws her hands up. “What does that even mean? Are you trying to insinuate something?” 

May crosses her arms across her chest and scoffs. “Don’t play dumb Tally, I raised you better than that.”

Tally’s jaw clenches and she needs to take a moment to gather herself and her emotions. After a calming breath, she says, “It’s complicated, but it’s not like that.”

The hum from May sounds incredibly disbelieving.

Tally is two seconds away from actually stamping her foot in frustration. “Can we all just, I dunno, sit down and talk about it over breakfast?”

“Fine.” May says, ever surly, turning on her heel and stomping back down the hall.

Breakfast is a strange affair, if only because after everyone takes their first bite Sarah looks like she’s discovered heaven on earth.

“Ms. Craven,” Sarah says with utmost honesty, “this is the most delicious omelet I’ve had in over a hundred years.”

May looks at Sarah like she’s grown a second head. “Thank you,” she says, genuinely taken aback by the comment and a little uncomfortable with the friendliness. “It’s just an omelet.”

“Absolutely divine,” Sarah says before digging in for another bite.

Both Tally and May watch her for a moment and it’s not difficult to see the resemblance in them at that moment. 

“I guess that’s still a thing then.” Tally says offhandedly. At the looks she receives from them both, she adds, “I wasn’t sure if the Mother spit you back out whole or…”  Tally trails off as she gestures vaguely with her hand.

Sarah has another bite halfway to her mouth, but she pauses and sets it back down. “I am mortal this time,” she says, a heaviness in her words.

“This time?” May says incredulously, but they both ignore her.

Tally is too focused on Sarah. “So if you die…?”

Sarah gives her a single nod. Tally breathes in sharply and breaks eye contact with Sarah, locking her gaze on her plate.

When Tally doesn’t say anything, Sarah tells her softly, “I don’t plan on dying.”

Tally’s lips purse at those words. “I don’t think you planned on dying the first two times either.”

“That’s why we’re going to be careful and discreet about getting back to Salem.”

“Do you think you can take us through the mycelium?”

“I’m…not sure.” Sarah says. She sets her utensils down and places her hands flat on the table. Her eyes close and she focuses intently. After a moment, her brow creases. Sarah opens her eyes and sighs in defeat. She looks at Tally and shakes her head.

Tally takes a long, deep breath of patience and runs her hands through her hair. They’ll need to find another way to get back to Fort Salem while somehow also keeping Sarah’s return under wraps. Even as she thinks it, she looks over at Sarah and finds Sarah looking right back at her. It’s almost as if she can tell that Sarah is thinking the same thing. Back to square one. Take the truck.

“Hmm.”

Sarah and Tally find May watching them with an unreadable glint in her eye.

“What is it?” Tally asks her.

“Just…nothing. It’s nothing.” May stands abruptly and begins to clear the dishes from the table, taking them to the kitchen.

Tally’s eyes follow her mother, confused at the behavior. She looks back at Sarah and gets a little nod from her.

“Wait for us in the living room?” Tally asks her quietly. Sarah gets up and after she leaves, Tally begins to clear the rest of the dishes from the table.

There is a heavy quiet hanging in the kitchen when Tally approaches her mother at the sink. She quietly takes the pile of dishes from Tally and sets them in the soapy water to soak. May washes with practiced efficiency.

“We sure do know how to do family meals,” May jokes, but she keeps her gaze on the glass she is intensely cleaning.

Tally can’t help but smile, a little twitch of her lips, a little puff of an amused chuckle. “They’re not all bad.”

“No, you’re right.” May replies, handing a dish over to Tally to start drying. “They’re not, but sometimes it’s hard to accept the truth even when it’s right in front of me.”

Tally’s head bobs. “You’re telling me.”

May chuckles. “Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.”

They finish the rest of the dishes in comfortable silence.

Before they join Sarah in the living room, May says, “Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I don’t support you. I’m not going to get in the way of your choices, Tally. Just be careful.”

“Of course, Mom.” Tally reassures her, placing a soothing hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. I promise.” She smiles reassuringly.

May just sighs. “Just…protect your heart too,” she says before stepping away.

Tally watches her, wondering if they were talking about the same thing.

“We need the truck.”

“You’re not taking the truck.”

Tally tries not to let her exasperation show. “A flight is out of the question. We have to drive.”

May has a thoughtful look on her face. “I’ll find something. But you’re not taking the truck.”

“Thank you, Mom. Really. I know you’re not exactly happy with this.”

May sighs heavily. “I can be angry with you and still I love you more than anything, Tally. I just want you to be safe and you’ve got it in your head to keep throwing yourself into the most dangerous situations possible.”

“I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

“I know, I know. It took me a while to get there. But I won’t stop you, sweetie. As much as I want to.”

Tally hugs May tightly. “I love you, Mom.”

May holds her right back. “I love you too.”

May scampers off after breakfast. She’s gone for several hours, but eventually comes back before noon with an older, but well maintained sedan parked in the driveway. Tally doesn’t ask what May paid or traded for it and May doesn’t tell her, but it’s there all the same when Sarah and Tally need to leave.

May and Tally hug tightly in goodbye while Sarah loads their scant luggage into the backseat.

“At least I had you home for a little bit,” May says when she lets Tally go, eyes glassy.

“I wish I didn’t—”

“None of that now,” May interrupts, giving Tally’s arms a comforting squeeze. “You go…save the world, I guess.”

It’s only then that a tear finally escapes down May’s cheek, though she quickly wipes it away and pulls Tally in for another hug. Not wanting to make an emotional scene of it, May ushers her daughter away until Tally is rounding around the car to get into the driver’s seat.

Sarah, standing next to the passenger side, gives May a brief nod and turns to open the door. A strong grip on Sarah’s upper arm stops her and she glances down at May’s hand on her, then back up. She makes no attempt to remove it.

May stares her down before shaking her head and holding out a slightly worn but well-kept stetson. “For the sake of the goddess, take that beanie off. You’re Sarah Alder.”

It actually pulls a small laugh from Sarah. She takes the hat and gives May the beanie in exchange. After she gets the stetson situated on her head, she nods at May. “Thank you.”

“Just because I gave you a hat doesn’t mean I trust you,” May says, simple and straightforward. “But you better do your damndest to protect her. She better come back alive or so help me I will hunt you down myself.”

Sarah looks May straight in the eyes and says, “You have my word.”

And they both know that a witch’s word is binding.

Tally takes a moment to readjust their luggage. Just two small duffels, sparingly packed. There’s little that they need to bring with them save for toiletries and enough spare clothes to last them both a week.

As Tally climbs into the driver’s seat, she catches sight of her mother saying something to Sarah with such a severe expression it nearly rivals one of Sarah’s glares. Tally grimaces when she spots the grip that May has on Sarah’s arm. She’s about to hop back out and harp on her mother to leave Sarah alone, but whatever words the two women exchange is brief.

May lets go of Sarah and steps back to the edge of the driveway.

“Everything okay?” Tally asks when Sarah gets into the passenger seat. “Nice hat.”

Sarah buckles up. “Let’s get going.”

Tally looks at Sarah carefully for a moment before accepting the sparse answer and turning the keys in the ignition. May stands off to the side as the car backs out, watching until they’re out of sight. The worried, serious expression never leaves her face.

Things are quiet and tense as Tally navigates them out of town. Sarah keeps her head down, the brim of the stetson keeping her face hidden when they’re stopped at intersections. It’s not until they get to the open highway that Sarah seems to relax, if only a little bit. Tally looks over to see Sarah sinking into her seat as tension drains from her body.

Tally feels it too.

She mostly focuses on driving and for anything untoward, but she finds herself glancing over at Sarah often. If she doesn’t find Sarah staring out the window at the passing landscape, she finds her with her head tilted back against the headrest, eyes closed and arms crossed. She almost looks as if she’s dozing, but there’s a stillness about her that belies it.

Regardless, Tally hesitates to disturb her, wondering if Sarah is exhausted and still recovering from her return from the mycelium. So many words hang at the tip of Tally’s tongue. So many questions. But they’ve got a few days of driving ahead of them. There’s plenty of time for conversations later.

I can be patient, Tally tells herself despite the fact that there’s barely a patient bone in her body.

Briefly, she thinks about turning on the radio, but she doesn’t know any of the stations that cater to Sarah’s particular musical tastes. That specific cadence of melody and singing is seared into her mind, along with the way Sarah’s lips had wrapped around the words civilian music. Tally wishes she had thought to ask but they’ll be out of range of the local radio stations fairly soon anyway.

California mountains eventually turn into wide-open farmland as they get closer to the state border. Though they leave the city behind them, the anxiety and worries plaguing Tally linger. She thought she might feel lighter and less worried on the open road. There’s barely any traffic and though the midday sun casts a comfortable, pleasant warmth, Tally feels as though a storm is hanging over them.

Following them.

But there is peace in the quiet of their travel, the gentle rumbling of the car, and the landscape drifting by.

Sarah doesn’t realize that she’s fallen asleep until she’s being awoken by Tally nudging her shoulder. She quickly sits up straight from where she had slumped against the door. Her eyes sweep out across the windows and take in the swathe of desert around them. The angle of the sun tells Sarah she’s been out for at least an hour, maybe two.

Tally gives Sarah’s shoulder a quick squeeze and is slow to bring her hand back. She nudges the Stetson on Sarah’s lap.

“We need to stop for gas,” Tally says. “We’re about five minutes out from the next town.”

Sarah nods in understanding and dons the hat. The way she adjusts it is already taking on a methodical finesse, like muscle memory. Quick and succinct. Sarah catches an observant gleam in Tally’s lingering gaze before Tally shifts her focus back on the road.

Curiosity gets the better of Sarah. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing, really, just—there’s this picture of you? From the 1860s, I think,” Tally rambles off, “when the army wore those types of hats.”

“1872,” Sarah corrects her. “I know the photograph you’re speaking of.”

Sarah is silent and pensive. She casts her eyes out the passenger window, withdrawing into herself. Tally purses her lips and she frowns a bit, feeling a mix of frustration and longing to reach out. She focuses on the road instead.

They pull into a filling station and park at one of the gasoline pumps. There are no other vehicles there, so Sarah does little to hide her face. She surveys everything around them, ever vigilant.

“I’m going to grab some snacks and water while I’m in there,” Tally asks her, “do you want something in particular?”

That gets Sarah’s attention. For a moment, her face brightens and she looks excited before it collapses into a frown. “I…actually don’t know. Get me anything—wait, no. Chips? Yes. Get me those.”

Tally blinks at her, taken aback by the rare moment of rambling from Sarah.

Sarah frowns at her, then sighs. “Please,” she grumbles out.

Again. Unexpected.

Tally comes back to herself. “Sure, right, of course. Chips. I can do that. Chips coming right up.” She makes her way inside and finds the chip aisle, mentally berating herself for how inarticulate she had just sounded.

She ends up grabbing three different brands of chips and a smattering of other snacks, along with a few bottles of water. She dumps the armload on the counter, saying sheepishly, “Sorry, mind if I get a bag? And put the rest on number two, please.” She pulls out a few bills and takes the time to unfold and flatten them out as best she can.

“Sure,” comes the blasé response from the cashier, a woman with light brown hair that’s tied up into a ponytail.

With practiced movements, the cashier starts scanning the items and stuffing them into a plastic bag. She barely glances at Tally. She does a peculiar thing though after she grabs the cash from the counter. For a moment, she just stares at the money in her hand instead of putting it in the till. That’s when Tally notices that the bill on top is a twenty and that the cashier is staring intensely at Sarah Alder’s stern-faced portrait right in the center of it.

The cashier suddenly fists her hand, crushing the bill in her grasp.

It nearly startles Tally, but she manages not to react beyond the slight widening of her eyes. She tries to keep it cool and asks as nonchalantly as possible, “Not a fan?”

“Something like that,” the woman responds gruffly as she shoves the bills, crumpled as they are, into the till.

Tally keeps quiet. Waiting. Watching. The cashier’s movements have an urgency in them as she shoves the last of the snacks into the bag. She seems shaky as she hands the bag over to Tally and when their hands brush, the air is suddenly full of tension—no—pressure.

Work.

There’s a burst of static between them, just enough that it stings their hands and they both jerk away from each other quickly. It’s more startling than anything.

“Shit, shit—sorry, I’m so sorry” the cashier sputters, shaking out her hand. “I didn’t mean to do that, miss, I swear it.”

Tally is rather baffled at how panicked and apologetic the cashier is. She goes for a gentle smile when she says, “It’s okay. Nobody is hurt. Just a little spark.”

When the cashier looks at her, there is such a desperate hope but it’s overshadowed by sheer fear. It all gets quickly shuttered away behind an angry frown. “No, it’s not okay.”

Tally keeps trying. “You just need a little practice.”

It doesn’t work. The woman spits out, “Shit like that is gonna get the whole town to turn on me.”

Tally’s brow scrunches in confusion. “We’re all witches now though.”

“No, we are not. You’re not going to find a soul in this town claiming to be a witch and it’s best you learn that sooner rather than later. You should get yourself going along outta here,” the cashier says in a rush. “You didn’t see anything, you hear me?”

“But—”

“You didn’t see anything.”

The cashier shoves the receipt into Tally’s bag and practically tosses it at her. Tally gathers it up and hurries out to the car. She knocks on the passenger window and when Sarah rolls it down, she passes the bag over. Sarah sets it down immediately, having caught the frown creasing Tally’s features.

“What is it?” Sarah asks while taking a brief moment to send a surreptitious glance back at the cashier through the building windows. The cashier is paying them no mind, but they are slumped against the counter, looking fairly defeated.

“It’s nothing,” Tally says. After a pause, she adds, “Probably nothing.”

Sarah hums, listening to what Tally isn’t saying. “Let’s be quick then."

Tally agrees and gets the gas pump going. As soon as it’s done, she goes to hop back into the driver’s seat but Sarah is there sliding in ahead of her. She settles quick and takes the wheel.

"You've been driving for hours," Sarah says.

"You drive?" Tally says in surprise.

Sarah gives her a wry look. "You think I can't?"

“Not answering that.” She rounds the car to the passenger side and gets in.

As Sarah turns the ignition on, a truck pulls into the lot. The driver, an older man with a scruffy white beard and a suspicious cant to his brows, eyes them warily as they pull away.

There is a pulse of power behind Tally’s eyelids and she sees a brief vision of the man talking to the cashier.

“Out of towners?” he asks.

The cashier shrugs. “Most of them are.”

The man snarls. “Bet they’re witches. Real ones.”

The cashier watches him with a careful eye. “Hard to tell.”

“No it ain’t,” he snaps. “You can smell the damn Work in the air.”

The cashier’s eyes go wide. “What?”

The man slaps some bills on the counter, he leans forward and looks at the cashier hard. “They do something to you? Tell me.” His voice sounds…off.

The cashier seems to relax, eyes hazy. “No, they didn’t.”

“Don’t you lie to me now.” His voice sharpens. Warbles. Tally can see the very air rippling with Work. “Were they witches?”

“Maybe,” the cashier says in a calm, lazy way, completely unlike her earlier self. "Not sure."

The man leans back, seemingly satisfied. "Better them than you, remember that."

Tally comes out of the vision to the open road and the town fading in the rearview mirror. The gasp she lets out is sharp and her body jerks in the seat, held in place by the seat belt she doesn't remember putting on. A hand lands heavy on her shoulder and Tally immediately recognizes Sarah's sharp grip keeping her grounded.

“What did you see?” Sarah asks her once Tally seems to have gotten her bearings.

“We need to go back,” Tally says suddenly, “I think that woman is in trouble.”

“Tally, what did you see?” Sarah repeats.

“That woman at the gas station, I think she’s trying to hide that she’s a witch. There was a man there, he used some type of Work on her.” Tally’s eyebrows furrow.

The muscles in Sarah’s jaw tighten. “We have to keep going.” Tally opens her mouth to protest, but Sarah continues, “This isn’t just about discretion. This is about your safety. We can’t take chances right now.”

“We have to do something,” Tally pleads. Sarah glares at her, but Tally doesn’t fold. “What about that witch? She’s not safe.”

Sara’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “Tally, this town isn’t your matrifocal compound where witches and civilians live together in peace and harmony. Where you can just waltz into town and pluck someone out without consequence. This hate doesn’t happen overnight or even over a year. It comes from a hate that’s been here, festering, for a long time. Cultivated and celebrated by generations of families.”

Tally, despite her anger, feels her eyes begin to water. Sarah gives her no quarter. “If it’s not safe for witches, then it’s a bad idea to turn around. We need to put as much distance between us and that place as we can, immediately. We’ve got a lot of people to help, not just that woman in that town.”

Tally gets quiet and crosses her arms, clearly upset, but she doesn’t demand that Sarah turn the car around.

“Look,” Sarah tries to ease Tally’s mind, “in times like these, a witch knows not to trust their neighbor.”

A muffled, choked sob breaks from Tally before she swallows it back down. A wince breaks through Sarah’s tight control when she spots the look of abject defeat on Tally’s face.

With a sigh, Sarah’s countenance softens ever so slightly. “They will survive by running or hiding.”

Tally looks at her sharply.

“Or fighting,” Sarah says, eyes locked hard on the road ahead of her, “as I did.”