Chapter Text
The first time Scott Springwell lost someone, it was unexpected and sudden. A tragedy that he had no hope of ever truly understanding. A blazing fire that started in an instant and was gone just as fast, the charred remains the only evidence it had ever even been there at all.
It had happened on a normal day.
“Like this, mum?” Scott asked, holding up the beginnings of a flower crown. It was a bit smushed, the stems not quite tied together correctly, too loose in some places and far too tight in others.
Despite this, his mother smiled down at him, reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair, “Yes, like that. Soon you'll be better than I am!”
Scott beamed at the praise, but protested, “No way! You're the best, mum! Yours always look so perfect!”
She giggled, hands returning to her own flower crown, “I've had quite a lot more practice, petal. When your father gets home, he'll be—”
A loud crash interrupted her words, both Springwells’ heads turning to the noise immediately. There were loud footsteps from the direction of the front door, and suddenly Scott’s mother had his arm tight in her grip, pulling him away from the noise.
“Mum, what—”
“Shh, shh, it's going to be alright,” She assured, helping him into a small wardrobe, “just stay quiet in here, okay? Don't come out until your father or I come to get you.”
The footsteps were coming closer, now. “What's going on?”
“Don't worry, little sprout. Just stay hidden for me.”
Scott could only nod as his mother shut the doors, leaving him alone in the dark with just a small gap left to see what was going on. He clutched the lone lily in his hands tightly.
“Get out of here, now,” She spoke, standing tall even as she trembled in fear.
“You can't tell me what to do when I've got the weapons, lady!” An unfamiliar voice yelled.
“We are but simple florists, we have nothing—” Her words caught in her throat as she was pushed onto the floor, allowing Scott to get a glimpse of the man who'd invaded their home. He was wearing a full face mask and clothes that covered his entire body, and he gripped a spear that was pointed straight at Scott’s mother.
“I don't care! You stupid elf, I don't want your things,” the man spat.
“Please, I have done nothing to—” Once again, her words were cut short, this time with a scream as the spear went straight through her chest. Scott couldn't help but gasp at the horrific sight, his hands immediately coming up to cover his mouth as the man’s head snapped to his hiding spot.
“Is there another one here?” The man’s voice was laced with venom. He slowly approached the wardrobe, and all Scott could think was don't see me, don't see me, don't see me.
The boy sat frozen in fear as the doors were thrown open, staring up at the stranger prepared for the spear to come for him next, but— “Tch. Must've imagined it. Shit, I gotta get out of here.”
The man turned and ran, and for a moment Scott stayed stuck where he was, too confused to move. But then his mother gave a sputtering gasp on the floor, and Scott was at her side in an instant.
“Mum? Mum? You– you have to be alright, Mum!”
Her eyes were half lidded, but there was something left there, as he could see her searching for him, “Sprout, where…?”
“I–I'm right here, I—” Scott moved a hand to her face, but he couldn't even see himself. “I'm… invisible? I… I must've… this must be magic, right? So, so, I can heal you. You can be better!”
“Sprout, it's alright… re… member… I…” her half lidded eyes glazed over.
“Mum! No, no, mum!” Scott screamed, willing with everything he had that she'd be alright, that the blood would go away, that the gaping hole in her side would fill in and everything would be okay. He'd willed himself invisible. Surely he could do something for her?
He closed his eyes, cradling his mother’s head in his arms as he wished, and he felt something happen, but then he opened his eyes to thorns and wild flowers decorating the room, several of them sticking straight through the wound. “No, no! This wasn't supposed to.. Mum! Wake up! Wake up!”
His pleas fell on deaf ears, as his mother remained motionless and the plants simply continued to grow from him. He wasn't certain how long he stayed like that, crying and shouting and hoping for something, anything to change.
Footsteps broke him out of his stupor, and he frightened at the thought that the man had returned, that he'd come back to finish it, but the door burst open and his father was there, panic in his eyes that quickly turned to horror.
“Allura!” He cried out, stepping into the thorns and brambles without care of being scratched up. “No, no, what happened here? Scott? Scott! Where are you, little sprout! Please, please—”
“I–I'm right here, dad.” Scott's voice was weak and strained, but there.
His father looked towards the voice, but straight through Scott. “Little sprout? I can't see you. Are you alright?”
“I… I went invisible. There was a man, and Mum hid me in the wardrobe and told me to stay, but he… he stabbed her, and then he opened the doors, but he didn't see me at all, and Mum isn't responding anymore, and I couldn't… I couldn't do anything. I… I tried. I did the same thing I did when… when I went invisible but there's just flowers and thorns and Mum isn't responding.” Scott's shoulders began to shake, sobs finally making their presence known as they racked through his body.
“Scott, little sprout, shh, shhh, it's alright, it's not your fault. Your mother…” His eyes went back to her body, still lying still on the floor. “Your mother wanted you safe. Come here, please. I don't want you getting hurt when I can't see you. The… there's help on the way.”
Scott sniffed, standing shakily from his spot on the floor and rushing to his father, who stumbled at the sudden weight against him. “Why did this happen? Why couldn't I do anything?”
“You did exactly what you should have. You stayed safe. Let's get out of this room, alright?”
“What about Mum?”
Darius Springwell sucked in a deep breath. “She… she'll be taken care of. Come on, we'll only get scratched up by these plants, and I've had quite enough of that today.”
Scott nodded, though his father couldn't see, “Okay.”
They stepped out of the room, and Scott suddenly became keenly aware that, though he was still invisible, the wet blood that had covered the floor had gotten all over his hands and lower half, and it was quite visible. His father hissed another sharp breath as he came to the same realization.
The next few hours, days even, were a blur to Scott Springwell. Other people had arrived to the house to remove his mother’s body. Her cloak had been returned quickly, blood stains removed. Scott had taken to wrapping it around himself, both to help him be more visible and to keep his mother as close as possible.
He remained invisible for nearly three days after the event, finally returning to normal after his father had sat him down and explained that the man had been caught and jailed for his crimes, and that his mother’s funeral would have to be arranged soon. He'd been so overwhelmed that he'd gone invisible mere moments after realizing, but this time it only lasted an hour.
The funeral of Allura Springwell was a solemn one, filled with people from far and wide. She was an elf after all, and she'd made many friendships in her time. There was a sharp pang in Scott’s heart at the reminder that she was supposed to have lived several centuries more, that he hadn't been able to do anything but make things worse.
He received condolences from the entire town, who cherished the florists, and from many strangers. By the end of the day, he'd been surprised that he was still visible. His magic was hard to control, and harder still to understand. It had listened to him once, fulfilled his desperate wish to not be seen, but had refused to do so when he needed it to do so desperately.
Darius Springwell was doing his best to help his son, but it was clear to Scott that anything to do with magic or elves was too painful for his father to bear discussing. So those topics of conversation faded from the norm, and Scott tried to focus on helping with the shop, only really using his abilities to help the plants grow as they should.
And that was how the years passed, and, slowly but surely, the ache in Scott’s heart left by his mother faded. He still missed her dearly, wished that he could control his powers better, wished he hadn't gotten them at all so at least he'd be with her, wished that he'd been able to do something, but he was managing it.
At least, that was what he told himself. It was hard to believe when he awoke from nightmares invisible and panicking, seeing that horrible day replay over and over with even worse outcomes. Whatever the case, he'd accepted that his mother was gone, and he just wanted to live out his days helping his father with the shop he'd eventually take over.
Then, the letter had arrived, and even those simple hopes were crushed. Yet another horrible thing to come from his magic. His only consolation as he traveled far from home was that his father would be safe. A cardinal had landed in his hand for just a moment as he began his journey, and he hoped that meant something good.