Archive of Our Own

Darkness.

… “her head…”

Light swims into blurry view. 

Shapes move closer but Tally cannot make sense of them. They’re amorphous and moving far too slow.

A steady hum of pressure fills Tally’s ears and her heartbeat thumps against it painfully. Muffled shouts and the sounds of a scuffle somewhere to her right pop into existence, but she’s not quick enough to recognize them for exactly what they are.

Tally knows that they’d made it. She and Sarah had crossed the threshold of Raelle’s family home, so what was happening now?

… “goddess…is that…”

The floor beneath her is solid and the colorful rug of Raelle’s living room does nothing to provide any sort of cushion between it and the stinging pain in the back of her head. She wishes she were more comfortable. As soon as the thought enters her mind, she can feel her head loll to the side. 

Blurry, moving figures swim slowly into vision again. 

They look like Army uniforms now she’s seen the dark colors of the women kneeling next to her, but it swims out of focus once more. She isn't certain what she's seen.

There’s a blonde woman above her, she knows. Tally can feel the pressure of her hands as they try to pull at her. Tally watches the woman's blurry mouth move even as she brings her hands up to cover her face weakly. She can’t make out what she is saying. All Tally hears is the thudding of her heartbeat against the pressure in her ears.

She tries to blink her into focus, but it’s futile. 

She has the distinct feeling that she knows this woman, this soldier. Tally lifts her hand instinctively once more and she feels the sudden tight pull of the woman’s grasp in return.

“… got you, Ta…”

Warmth floods Tally’s chest at the words, bringing with it the steady sense of calm and stillness. It reminds her of the moment before she falls asleep when she’s tucked under warm blankets, her head against a soft pillow. The image is so compelling that all Tally wants to do is sink into the weightlessness she feels. 

“This field can’t ho… long.”

“Salva up!”

Competing voices scrape against each other as they warble in and out of Tally's consciousness. It's almost like when Sarah was playing with the dial of the radio in the car and smiling at her from the passenger seat.

She can’t remember why that had been so funny now.

“No!”

The shout pierces the thudding in Tally’s ears, and she instinctively reacts to it, attempting futilely to push up against the firm hands holding her own. She fails, but she knows that voice.

She can't remember who exactly it belongs to at the moment, but it's pulling hard against the spot behind her ribs right above her heart. Her heartbeat quickens and she tries again, determined, but her movements are sluggish, and her shoulder hits the floor hard from where she's managed to barely rise. 

BANG.

Tally turns her head towards the direction she thinks the sound is coming from. Through the blurriness, she can make out a figure with wild dark hair in the far corner. 

Sarah.

In an instant, it comes rushing back.

She can't focus, but she sees multiple shapes surround Sarah. Tally can barely make her out and for a moment, wild panic tries to claw its way up into her chest.  She feels its franticness at a distance as if she can’t access any of her senses, but the panic is ever present.

She blinks again but she can’t shake away the blurriness of the image. It’s like she’s 8 again and playing in the ocean with eyes open staring up into the sun from below the surface. 

Tally scrunches her brows at the thought. 

Hadn't she and Sarah had been in her childhood home?

Focus.

The thought spurs her forward and she forces her hands up once again in a weak attempt to push away the hands hovering over her.

Sarah grunts somewhere in the distance like she had when the collar had been placed around her neck earlier in the woods. She can’t let that type of indignity happen to her again. 

They must have gotten through the door. I need to get to Sarah. 

As soon as the thought surfaces, Tally surges with all of her strength and lashes out blindly. 

Her fist connects with the woman above her and a satisfying grunt pushes through the pounding thud of her heartbeat. 

Darkness drapes her vision like a blanket, but chaos suddenly erupts in her ears. The juxtaposition makes her head spin.

“General, please!”

BANG.

“Mend her, not me!”

Tally feels the rolling awareness of gentle taps against her cheek in increments. The sensation doesn’t come all at once. 

“…ou hear me?”

The only constant she’s focused on is the sound of Sarah in a fistfight with a ring of their attackers.

No. 

Not attackers. 

Soldiers. 

Tally takes a shallow breath in and tries to reason with the panic in her chest before she forces her eyes open once more. She watches the blonde woman’s mouth move above her silently.

Where did the sound go? It's as if someone has pulled the plug on a staticky tv. She can’t hear the words over the sound of her own slowing heartbeat.

Lightning-fast movement skirts the field of her vision and Tally slides her attention up and over the shoulder of the woman above her.  

She can’t quite keep the image clear, because all she registers is dark shapes pushing against each other. It looks like a soldier has Sarah firmly around the waist. Tally watches helplessly as she heaves Sarah back with effort. Sarah twists and elbows back, landing a direct hit and trying in desperation to get away. The sound pops back into Tally's ears just in time.

Tally aches with the need to get up.

“General! Please don’t make me sleep you!”

Sarah shoves against the shape holding her hard enough to send it back two steps. When the shape hits the ground, another darts forward to take its place. 

“Her head!” 

The second shape pushes Sarah’s arms down and all but pins her to the wall. Tally burns with anger and helplessness.

“General, you nee… …too. We’ve got you.”

“Damnit, Collar, fucking link with he…!”

It’s as if Sarah's voice pulses Work in her direction because Tally’s vision suddenly clears for the briefest of moments. 

Her gaze is on the woman’s face when it clears. Sarah’s eyes are more frantic that Tally has ever seen and then the woman above her is pulling Tally’s face away. She cranes her head to stay focused on Sarah, but her eyes are getting heavier, her vision already blurring once more. 

Raelle’s concerned face blinks into view above her. 

Oh, it's Rae. 

Tally smiles up at her softly.

With the roar of a storm, the pressure builds into Tally’s ears once more. Darkness threatens to wipe across her vision.

Raelle grabs wildly at Tally’s neck, twisting her head to the side to inspect the damage. Tally cannot even muster the resistance to fight the action. 

Tally feels the force of something solid vibrate the floor beneath her and then hears indistinct shouts once more. She wants to see what is happening, where Sarah is now, but she can only turn her now crossed vision that way. Raelle is fighting her movements as she tries. 

Tally feels Raelle’s fingers against her forehead as the murmurs of her healing chant fills her ears. 

Fleetingly, her mind pieces together that Rae is linking with her. 

Tally tilts her head away in an attempt to stop her sister’s Work. She isn’t who Raelle should be trying to save, not when Sarah is so badly injured. Tally remembers the shock of the woman’s pain lance through her once again. She had barely been able to stand under its weight and Sarah had been carrying it for who knows how long.

Raelle should be linking with Sarah.

Tally rallies what strength she has left against the tide of unconsciousness attempting to overtake her to scramble for Raelle’s hands. Her fingers twitch on the floor next to her head but her hand doesn’t move. 

Overwhelming darkness encroaches on her consciousness, blinking everything to a smaller and smaller image. 

Tally rattles another shallow breath. 

If this is death, at least she knows that Sarah is safe. 

The thudding of her heartbeat against the pressure in her ears slows. 

A final shallow breath rattles into her lungs like a gust against a shutter and then there is only the darkness. 

In the dimming light of her mind’s eye, Sarah smiles at her from the passenger seat. 

****

Consciousness returns slowly as Tally blinks against the bleariness in her eyes. 

A soft hum of Work floats all around her, but other than that, it’s quiet.

There’s a softness beneath her head and the scratchy wool of cover against her forearms.

Tally blinks with more intention as the wall of Ft. Salem’s Infirmary slowly comes into view. 

For a moment, she merely stares, trying to process and remember exactly how she’d gotten here. 

Her thoughts are slow, but Tally pinches her brows together. The pull of whatever drug is in her system is strong. 

How long have I been here?

She had just been in California hadn’t she? 

The memories are right on the edge of her awareness but whatever they’ve given her here is the good stuff. 

Focus.

Explosions. 

Fire.

Her vision. 

Think.

Sarah in her childhood room. 

Like a dam finally breaks, the images rush slowly and then all at once into the forefront of her consciousness. 

Sarah in the passenger seat. 

The circle of dead native witches. 

The collar. 

The Marshal.

The warehouse.

The car crash.

The men in the woods with the voice box tight over their throats. 

Sarah shoving a memory of a long-destroyed newspaper clipping into her mind.

The fire so intense she’d thought she’d never make it.

Sarah’s insistent voice.

Ice cream. 

The gasp tears forth from her throat with the intensity of someone breaking the water’s surface. Tally shoots up in the infirmary bed, panic flooding her system as she scans the empty room. 

Hands suddenly grab at her from her right and Tally turns, instinctively pushing them away. 

“Hey! Easy! Easy!”

Raelle folds against her, pinning her arms easily against her side. 

“Don’t punch me again!”

Raelle’s calming presence fills her senses, but Tally can’t stop her eyes from roaming each and every other bed in the room in a blind panic. Raelle must misinterpret the energy coming from her because she pushes Tally's hair back from her forehead quickly. 

“Tal, you’re ok. You’re in the infirmary. You’re ok!”

Her sister’s warm fingers pull at her face. Tally fights it for only a second before she turns and takes her in. Raelle looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Dark circles lay beneath her watery eyes but she’s smiling now. 

Relief brawls with panic in her chest but Tally can’t resist. She folds herself into Raelle’s tight hug and releases a shuddering sigh. She hadn’t thought they were going to live as they’d fought their way impossibly through the woods to Raelle’s home. The pain of her sisters’ abandonment twinges heavy in her chest, but the sheer magnitude of how much she’s missed them floods her senses. 

She’s crying before she even realizes it. 

Raelle shushes her in between smashed kisses against her head and tightening hugs that Tally returns with vigor. 

The moment lasts for a few more seconds before the relief gives way to the mounting panic lancing through her chest. Tally tears herself backwards and fists her fingers into Raelle’s shirt. She tugs her sister up and dips her head to take her in. 

“Sarah?! Where is she? Is she ok?”

Raelle’s gaze sweeps across her face for a brief moment before she nods quickly.

“She’s ok, Tal. She’s awake and…”

“Tally!”

Whatever Raelle was about to say is overshadowed by Abigail’s relieved yell from the door of the infirmary. Relief swims in Tally’s head as she tears her eyes away from one sister to land on the other. Abigail darts forward, dropping fruit and bottles of water onto Tally’s bed covers. Raelle barely has enough time to move before Abigail barrels into the bed and all but knocks Tally backwards with the sheer force and frantic energy of her hug. 

“Easy, Abs, she just woke up.”

Abigail has never been particularly effusive with her affection, but it’s been several months since they’ve even laid eyes on each other. The last conversation they’d had hadn’t exactly been without tension and given the fact that she’d been nearly killed several times trying to escape the Cession…

Tally hugs her tighter. 

It’s another second before Raelle’s grounding aura envelops them both as she’s pressing into the bed on the other side, arms reaching around to cocoon Tally between them. She settles into the feeling of their bond, the harmony of their energies mingling once again in a feeling of home that she’s missed more than she’s even allowed herself to say. 

A single sob pushes out of her without her permission. At the sound, Raelle clutches them harder seconds before Abigail squashes a kiss to her temple. 

She’d missed this. 

She’d missed this so much. 

Suddenly in the reassuring presence of her sisters, Tally shivers with the intensity of the ache she had been walling off in their absence. She knows they are married now and of course there is supposed to be separation, but after everything she had experienced over the past few months, it seems she can’t quite hold in the emotions any longer. 

As if she is instinctively picking up Tally’s train of unspoken thought, Raelle tightens her hold wordlessly. Abigail must feel it, too, because in the next moment she pushes another strong kiss against Tally’s forehead once more. 

Tally scrunches her brow at the sudden sound of crinkling between them. With a gentle reluctance, she pulls back and glances at the far too large pile of food and bottles of water that lays between herself and Abigail. 

For some reason, Tally can't make sense of it. Why on earth would Abigail need to bring so many snacks here? 

“So, not to ask a maybe obvious question, but… what’s with all the food?” 

Tally suddenly shoots an arm’s length back, mouth falling open as she stares at Abigail. 

“Are you pregnant?!” 

Abigail’s brows pinch together in confusion for a moment and Tally watches as she turns the look towards Raelle. 

Raelle slides back but keeps a steady hand firm on Tally’s shoulder. The silent conversation she and Abigail seem to share shoots a stark jolt of warning through Tally. 

With a rising feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, Tally glances between them slowly. 

“What?” 

Raelle seems to lose the silent argument she and Abigail are holding and Tally watches as her face pinches up in the way it does when she’s about to ask a painful question in a gentle way. 

“Tal. Do you uh… do you remember what happened?” 

Tally’s eyes dart up and down across her face trying to discern any answer from her schooled features. 

When she finds none, she turns probing eyes to Abigail. She’s usually the no nonsense one who will crack first. This time, her face is tight, eyes scrunched in a way that screams she’s fighting her emotions. 

Oh. This is very bad then. 

Not able to bear the unspoken words written all over her sisters’ faces, Tally drops her eyes to the bedsheet. 

“I … I remember the woods and the fire…” 

An image of Edwin with a crossbow floats into her consciousness. 

She gasps and clutches at Raelle’s arm. 

Thankfully, Raelle beats her to the punch before she can even finish the thought. 

“He’s fine. He got out with us.” 

Tally sags in relief. 

“Tally.” 

The gentleness of Abigail’s voice forces Tally’s gaze back to her. Tears are welled in her eyes as she picks up Tally’s hand and squeezes it tightly. 

“You almost died.” 

The words register but all Tally can do is blink in response. She’s sitting here, she’d made it through the door. How had she… 

Raelle squeezes her shoulder once again and Tally swings her attention to her - ready to hear the dismissal of this ludicrous notion. 

Instead, Raelle merely nods. 

Time seems to slow as Tally merely stares at her. 

“What?” 

The question comes out as a whisper. 

She watches Raelle’s throat work over a hard swallow as she throws another silent glance at Abigail. Tally doesn’t give her the time to continue. 

“How long have I been here?” 

She directs the question between them as she swivels. Abigail’s face slowly straightens as she clears her throat. In the next moment, she straightens her spine and nods. 

The consummate officer. 

“6 days.” 

“What?!” 

Beside her, Raelle winces at the force of the shout. 

“Your brain was swelling, and they weren’t sure what damage was done. You’ve been in a coma until you could be reevaluated. We’ve just been waiting.” 

She can feel her heart pounding in her chest suddenly. A soft ringing has taken root in her ear. 

In the flash of her mind’s eye, she remembers herself on the floor of Raelle’s house - the blonde speaking wordlessly above her. 

Aghast with the knowledge now of what had apparently been happening, Tally spins and stares wordlessly at her sister. Raelle must read the look on her face. 

She takes a quick step forward and reaches out once again. 

“So, you remember?” 

Tally’s eyes dart across her pained expression once more. 

“I… I was… we made it into your house…” 

Raelle nods. 

“You collapsed. One second you were talking and the next you just hit the ground.” 

She turns her eyes away as she finishes the sentence, swallowing hard once again. Tally figures it must have been really, really bad if Raelle can’t even look at her. 

Abigail takes the lead in the moment’s hesitation. She leans back and sits gently onto the bed beside the pile of food she’d apparently been bringing to share between them while they sat vigil. They hadn't been eating much by the looks of what remained. 

“They think adrenaline kept you going.” 

“Well, that and Alder apparently. If she hadn’t healed you as much as she did...” 

The mention of Sarah’s name on Raelle’s lips spikes another wave of panic through Tally’s system. At her wide eyed and frantic expression, Raelle squeezes her arm once more. 

“She is ok. She was really banged up, but she’s ok.” 

Abigail scoffs lightly. 

“She took down two soldiers and threw Hamilton on her ass from what I hear. With a fractured knee, broken ribs and clavicle and...” 

Raelle spears her with a glare and Abigail stops mid-statement.

Tally’s mind spins in wonder at the information. 

Lt. Maresha Hamilton is a Special Tactical Operations officer. She’s 5’11” of hard muscle and one of the best hand to hand combatants that Ft. Salem has ever seen. Tally has personally seen her fight only once and she’d taken down three units before getting away and eluding the pursuing trainees. 

And Sarah, beaten and barely able to stand, had taken her down. 

Tally can’t remember much about what had occurred, but she remembers with vivid clarity the amount of pain Sarah had been in. One moment of taking it onto herself had very nearly put Tally on the ground herself. How had Sarah even found the strength to fight three soldiers when Tally herself had apparently succumbed? 

“How did…?” 

Words weren’t on her side in the moment it seemed, so she shakes her head hard to clear her jumbled thoughts and tries again. 

“Why?” 

Raelle stares at her for a few seconds before her gaze slides up to Abigail once again. Irritation flares in Tally’s gut at the sight. What could possibly be so big that her sisters were being so tentative with the information? 

She refuses to look away from Raelle as she snaps. 

“Rae!” 

The blonde’s eyes whip back to her face and she caves almost immediately.

“She was frantic trying to get to you. We had a contingent of special ops soldiers and me and Izadora there in case she needed special attention since…” 

Her words slow and her eyes dart to Abigail and back again. 

“…coming back again. She refused to let anyone near her but Izadora. When they tried, she just kept fighting and screaming for us to help you.” 

Tally has a few moments to try to process the information before she feels Abigail’s hand on her knee. 

“Tally. How on earth did you end up with her? Where did she come from?” 

Raelle sighs heavily from beside her and Tally gives her a helpless look. Abigail's eyes are focused when she turns. 

She’s torn momentarily. What she and Sarah had shared on the road had been so special and oddly intimate; a precious thing that she wants to protect as long as possible. She’s hesitant to release it into the world. 

Still, her sisters have always been able to get anything out of her eventually so she knows it's a losing bet. With a sigh, she sinks back against the pillow. 

“She just appeared.” 

Abigail’s eyebrows crawl into her hairline. 

“She just appeared?” 

Annoyance flares hot in Tally once more and she sits up just as quickly as she had sat back. 

“Yes, Abigail. She just appeared. I was in the woods with her scourge and was working out my emotions about a lot of things. I was grieving and hurting and when I turned to go there was this bright glow and she just appeared.” 

Silence hangs in the air as Tally simply stares. 

Abigail stares back before she chances a glance back towards Raelle. Tally swings her head around to match it. 

Raelle meets both looks with a few wide-eyed rapid blinks. 

Tally swivels a stare back and forth between them.

“What? You’ve both got something to say so just say it.” 

Raelle darts her tongue out to swipe across her bottom lip. She’s being careful with her next words, Tally can tell. 

“Nothing bad, Tals. It’s just, it sounds like maybe she just …” 

Her eyes drift back to Abigail’s and Tally sighs before rolling her neck slowly to check her reaction. This back and forth is becoming tiring. 

Abigail merely smiles a tight-lipped smile. 

“You know Alder. She does what she wants.” 

The words sit heavy in the pit of Tally’s stomach. That’s not how she’d characterize Sarah at all. 

Not anymore. 

Raelle sighs heavily again. Too heavily to mean nothing. 

Tally turns to her. Raelle’s gaze is heavy with intent and Tally tries to swallow the worry churning in her stomach. 

“Rae?” 

With another heavy sigh, Raelle sags. 

“The Mycelium is dormant.” 

Tally blinks. 

“So… what does that mean?” 

Abigail leans forward onto the bed once more. When her hand lands on Tally’s leg, it is with the confidence of the leader she knows her sister to be. 

“It means Alder's mortal.” 

Slowly, Tally sinks back against the headboard once more with the words. She doesn't know what exactly has been happening since she's been unconscious, or how much Sarah has shared. Hearing her sister so easily state such a tender truth stirs something in her chest.

“I know.”

Raelle and Abigail share a look but thankfully say nothing.

Sarah had been honest about her mortality at her mother’s house and Tally had been by her side through it all. Tally had been shocked at first, but things had gone so sideways so quickly that she had just not been able to grapple with the reality of it. 

Yes, Sarah had been quiet and withdrawn but, she realizes, maybe that had been because of the circumstances. 

Maybe it wasn’t Tally that had caused the distance this time. Maybe Sarah had been hiding so much more pain and fear than she’d let on. For the first time in centuries the woman was mortal. 

No biddies to take her years or injuries. 

No Mother to heal her. 

Only the heart beating in her chest, steady and strong, and so fragile. 

Suddenly the weight of everything they’d been through holds an entirely different threat. Sarah could have been killed at any moment during their previous experiences. Logically she knows that, had known it during the time, but in the quiet safety of the infirmary, it is suddenly so glaring. 

She nearly sacrificed herself for good just to save Tally in the woods. 

“Where is she?” 

The words are out of Tally’s mouth before she can finish the thought. 

Once again, Raelle looks to Abigail who gently pushes up and stands to the side of Tally’s bed. 

Neither of them seems like they’re about to give up any information which is absolutely ludicrous given the circumstances. Tally swings her stare between them and then rips the covers from her legs in a huff. 

“Where. is. she? Is she on base?” 

Abigail’s expression is torn as she stands taller. Raelle’s voice rings out from the other side of the bed. 

“She’s briefing the War Council and President Wade.” 

Abigail stares in annoyance at Raelle’s release of information, but Tally is already moving, swaying slightly as she shoves her way up from the bed. When her eyes fall on a set of clothing in the corner, she makes a beeline for it. 

“Tally, what are you doing?” 

Shaking out the pair of black standard issue uniform pants in her size, Tally braces herself with one hand on the wall. She hops on one foot to keep her balance, and shoves the other leg down into the garment. 

“Tally!” 

Tally ignores Raelle’s protests and switches to place her other hand on the wall. Raelle is at her side in a second, grip tight on her forearm as she tries twice to put her foot into the pant leg. 

“For crying out loud, Tally, you can’t even stand up. You need to be evaluated!” 

Tally snaps her head up as she hops in place again to tug the pants up. She zips them closed with force and stares eye to eye with the Witchbomb. 

“What I need is to be in that room.” 

She bends to snatch the plain black shirt up from the chair and shakes it loose. She rips the pajama top over her head, Raelle disappearing from her peripheral vision as she does so. 

Her words are choppy as she pokes her head through. 

“If they want to be debriefed about how things fell apart, Sarah shouldn’t be the only one who is having to face that.” 

Raelle’s expression is one of pure understanding and for a moment, Tally thinks she’ll have her sisters’ help without push back. Raelle opens her mouth to respond, but it is Abigail’s voice that rings out. 

It quivers as she speaks. 

“Tally. You can’t be in that room. You aren’t military anymore.” 

Raelle steps back quickly, spinning to pin Abigail with a shocked look. 

“Jesus, Abigail!”

Silence descends on the room like a heavy blanket as Abigail shifts from foot to foot under her stare. She hasn’t looked this uncertain in years, but Tally can see the determination present in her stance. 

Anger burns in her gut at the entire exchange. 

Abigail at least has the decency to look partly ashamed of the statement. She takes a deep breath and releases it in an even deeper sigh. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just saying…” 

Tally slices at the air with her hand. 

“I know what you’re saying.” 

Abigail’s mouth snaps shut. 

Raelle stands unwavering between them, head turning slowly back and forth. Rage builds up in Tally like she’s inside a pressure cooker. The indignity of everything they’ve been through - what they’ve experienced together to even get back to Fort Salem and suddenly it means nothing? 

Being on the run as wanted criminals hunted for a crime they didn’t commit. 

The mad scramble of the hunt for First Song. 

The agonizing pain of losing Raelle and then finding her. 

All of their losses. 

Losing Anacostia. 

Losing Sarah. 

All of it shatters and burns to ash in the open expanse between them. 

Whatever look is on her face has Raelle stepping forward and physically blocking her. 

“Tally.” 

Tally doesn’t listen. All she sees is red. Whatever hold she has on her emotions snaps in an instant.

Her voice is low when she steps forward forcing her full body against Raelle’s hold in an attempt to get closer to Abigail. 

“And what about Sarah? She’s not military anymore.” 

Abigail’s throat works over a hard swallow. 

“She’s Sarah Alder. She’s always going to be military, Tally.” 

The statement sucks the breath from Tally’s lungs. 

Tally has given so much to the Army, but Sarah? 

The idea that she is somehow expected to give even more? No, that isn’t going to happen on Tally’s watch. 

Never again.  

She can see the pained expression on Abigail’s face, but she doesn’t care. She stares as she takes two slow steps back from Raelle. The blonde steps forward just as Tally shakes her head and bends to grab the pair of tennis shoes lying beneath the chair. 

“Tally, please.” 

“You can heal me or get out of the way, but I’m going.” 

She tugs the laces quick and with much more force than is necessary, but she doesn’t look up at either of her sisters. The air is thick with the emotional conversation that she knows is silently occurring between them.

She pulls the last loop of the lace tight and stands to her full height. Raelle stares silently at her for one long final moment before she sighs. 

Reaching out, she waves Tally forward. 

“Come on then.” 

Tally searches out Abigail’s pained look over her shoulder as Raelle places her hands on her forehead. She closes her eyes against the look as Raelle’s healing chants fill the air. 

****

Tally darts down the pathway in the shadows of the imposing Administration building as it looms before her. She has had ten minutes to piece together what she’s going to say to convince whatever guard is at that door to let her into the War Room, but she still hasn’t landed on exactly what it’s going to be. 

It seems like ages ago when she had believed she could merely wing it to get she and Sarah safely out of the Cession. How right Sarah had been to prepare her for it. 

She certainly could do with a bit of it right now. 

“Tal! Wait up!”

She isn’t really surprised, honestly. She knows her sisters well enough to know that they’ll follow each other to the brinks of death and back. Still, anger stirs in her stomach at the last-ditch attempt to slow her down.

“You can forget it, Rae. I’m getting into that room.”

Footsteps quicken on the path behind her. 

“And how exactly are you planning on doing that?”

Abigail’s harsh whisper is punctuated with a rough grab of her bicep. 

Tally flings it off instinctively and whirls.

“I don’t know, Abigail. How about you tell me? Since I’m not military anymore, which you love to remind me of, why don’t you enlighten me?!”

Raelle tucks her eyes to the sidewalk and then back up at Abigail. The leader of their unit shakes her head slightly as she takes in all of Tally’s rage filled face. 

She takes a deep breath and then pushes it out angrily.

“Look. I’m sorry that Raelle and I got married.”

Tally flinches at the tone of her sister’s voice and turns to focus once more on the Administration building.

“That’s not what this…”

Abigail bends to match her eyeline, pulling Tally’s face to her own very serious one again. 

“And I’m sorry that we left to try to find some sense of normalcy. I know that made you feel alone, Tally, and we’re really, truly sorry about that.”

Tally can feel the sadness welling up in her at the words and she blinks back the tears that traitorously threaten to fall. 

Not now. Not when I have to walk in there with my head up high. 

Abigail isn’t stopping, though. She reaches out and latches on to Tally’s other arm, physically moving her to look her in the eyes.

“I don’t know when I became some kind of monster to you, but this has got to stop.”

Tally isn’t sure what happens in the moment of silence as they all stare, but she can feel the chasm between them, and it isn’t fair, not really.

They are woefully out of place in front of the Administration building on Fort Salem’s campus. Anyone can come by and see them, and this just doesn’t feel like a conversation for anyone to hear. 

They hadn’t abandoned her, she knows Abigail is right, but she can’t shake the feeling that she was just discarded. She had never been exactly forthcoming to them about everything that she had been feeling when Sarah had first returned let alone what she was feeling when she was once again gone. 

Maybe she’s just as much to blame as they are. 

Her gut twists with guilt at the realization and she drops her eyes to the ground. They’ll get through this together, they always do and Tally’s a firm believer that nothing can keep them apart for long. Things have changed now as they’re gotten older and it’s something they’ll all have to learn how to navigate sooner or later, but now?

Her thoughts drift back to Sarah in the room with people who are undoubtedly furious and demanding answers. 

Her voice is a whisper to the sidewalk. 

“Look, I know it may sound crazy, but with everything we’ve been through? It’s just… she needs me.”

Raelle steps forward immediately, pulling the trio closer together. Her position is tactical as she places herself directly in front of Tally, blocking out anyone’s vision of her sudden woe filled face. When she speaks, the calming certainty of her voice begins to quell the roiling anxiety in Tally’s chest. 

“We know, Tal, and yeah we may not get it, but we know you need her, too.”

The words draw Tally’s head up. Raelle’s lip pulls into a crooked smile as she reaches out to gently nudge Tally’s shoulder. 

“No one here is denying any of that. I mean, I’m sure there was a hell of a lot about me and Scyl that you all didn’t understand at first.”

Abigail shrugs immediately in such a nonchalant manner that Tally’s attention snaps to her. 

“Exactly. Me and Adil, too. Other people don’t have to understand it as long as you know it’s what’s good and right for you.”

Tally looks into the passive and understanding looks stretched across both Raelle and Abigail’s faces and sees it there plain as day.

She apparently hadn't needed to say a word about her feelings. 

It seems her sisters knew her better than she realized.

All secrets keep, indeed.

She is nearly overcome with the wave of love and devotion for her sisters that fill her chest with warmth. It pulses into the emotions of the previous week and suddenly everything is just too jumbled, too overwhelming. She's been on an emotional rollercoaster for too long now. In one long moment, she deflates. Abigail is right there, swiftly pulling her into a fierce hug without hesitation. Her words are muffled against the top of Tally’s hair.

“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole before, Tal. I was just saying that with all of the security right now because President Wade is on base, the shit in the Cession, and the attacks? Everyone here is jumpy as hell and running on tight protocol. There’s no way you’re getting into that War Room. You don’t have even a semblance of clearance anymore.”

Tally pulls back stiffly, knowing that Abigail is right. There really isn’t a shot of it and she has busted into enough rooms demanding to be heard to know it never ended well. If somehow she’d get in, there’s no way that Petra wouldn’t just throw her out. Maybe it’d make things worse on Sarah anyway. Maybe Sarah would be upset with her for even trying it.

Despite her attempt to pull away, Abigail doesn’t let her go. She merely extends her arms to hold Tally tight by the shoulders at arm’s length.

“But.”

There's something in Abigail’s eyes that has a drop of hope igniting in Tally’s stomach. She doesn’t have a chance to react before Raelle steps forward and casts a furtive glance around them. Her voice is low when she continues Abigail's thought.

“There may be another way.”

Abigail nods quickly and tugs Tally closer. She tucks her tight under her arm as she drapes it over her shoulder. To any passersby, it would simply look like a close talk between reunited sisters. 

“With President Wade here and likely spitting nails, the bad press and fear caused by the attacks and now the tensions in the Cession threatening an even bigger blowback? My mother can’t afford to lose face.”

Tally’s brows pinch together. 

“What are you saying?”

Abigail takes a deep breath in and then tilts her head to draw out her words. 

“I’m saying that should you happen to get into that room, she can’t afford to make it seem as if she didn’t know about it. If we can get you in, you’re in.”

Tally pulls away from Abigail’s hold and stares slack jawed between her and Raelle.

So much has happened between them, but in this moment, Tally doesn’t see the esteemed and decorated Bellweather officer and the Witchbomb standing before her. All she sees are her two sisters, doing whatever it takes to ensure that she can do what she needs to even if they don’t understand it. They’re trying to not only help Tally get into a heavily sigiled and guarded high clearance military room, but also make it as painless as possible when it’s done. And they know Abigail’s mother will likely know exactly who is responsible in the end.

If that’s going to be how this shakes out, Tally can at least get them as far away from Fort Salem as possible while the fall out happens. 

She studies their faces for a brief moment before she makes her decision. She’d promised Sarah, after all, and she isn’t sure where this is going to take them.

Best to have a peace offering if she can.

“Ok, I’m in, but I’m going to ask a favor from you both. Maybe I can give you some plausible deniability or something.”

Raelle perks up at the response and Tally can’t help but feel the small smile tugging at the corner of her lip. 

****

Tally curses the squeak of her tennis shoe on the smooth tiled hallway leading to the War Room. The noise gives her away immediately and the Secret Service officer standing at the end of the hallway clearly guarding the door is immediately on alert. 

Keep it together, Craven.

“Can I help you with something, Tally Craven?”

Tally gives a hesitant smile and half nods as she continues towards the end of the hall.

“Oh good, then they must have told you to be on the lookout for me. I was worried without M here that there may be an issue.”

The guard’s brow scrunches at the statement just as Tally pulls up to a halt outside of the War Room's perimeter.

Tally nods towards the door and turns expectant eyes back to the guard. 

“Can you use the sigil, please? I'm sure you know that they don’t like to be kept waiting.”

The look of distrustful confusion doesn’t leave the guard’s face, but Tally keeps the smoothed expectant look on hers. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Craven.”

It is Tally’s turn to allow confusion to dance across her features. She tilts her head to the side as if she’s trying to process the information just given to her.

“Uh…General Bellweather asked for me to come help corroborate General Alder’s intel about the Cession.”

The guard stands taller suddenly, hands behind her back as she merely shakes her head.

“General Alder doesn’t need any corroboration.”

Tally scoffs a slightly shocked sound and shakes her head again. 

“I’m sorry and your name is…”

“Caruthers.”

Tally nods tightly. 

“Agent Caruthers, if you’d like to tell General Petra Bellweather that her order isn’t to be followed on her own base, then by all means, I can wait right here.”

Tally can see the moment that hesitancy grips the woman’s stance.

Abigail, come on. Any time now.

She’s locked in a stare down of wills alternating with a fear of potential dressing downs when the guard shifts slightly. She turns to the door once and then back again.

“Hold here for one moment.”

Panic floods Tally’s system as she brings her finger to her right ear. 

If she communicates with anyone in that room, it’s over before she even steps foot inside. 

She opens her mouth to utter a sleeping seed, consequences be damned, when…

“What on earth are you still doing out here?!”

Abigail’s voice rings through the hallway and the agent before her drops her hand, craning her neck around Tally’s shoulder to see the new intrusion. 

Tally raises her brows and turns to see Abigail Bellweather, officer face firmly painted on, being trailed by the suddenly stoic Witchbomb herself. 

Tally has to bite down on the corner of her lip to keep from smiling. 

Abigail throws a look of pure disbelief to the agent at the door. 

“Agent, why is Tally Craven still standing in this hallway when General Bellweather sent for her nearly twenty-five minutes ago?”

Agent Caruthers seems thrown completely off guard as she shifts from one foot to the next. She’s suddenly face to face with the three most well-known witches on the planet and being faced with uncertainty in her position isn’t something she is used to. She wears the distrust clearly. 

Abigail marches straight up to Tally and stands at attention in front of the agent like she has every right to be here.

“Has there been some delay? Is there a reason she’s still standing here?”

Caruthers stands to her full height now, as well. She leans back into a parade rest and stares Abigail directly in the eye. 

Abigail doesn’t flinch. 

“I didn’t receive any orders about Craven joining this meeting. The President is in there and…”

Abigail scoffs loudly and turns a look to Tally and Raelle that easily reads ‘Can you believe how bad this agent is at her job?’

She spins her head so fast back towards the agent that Tally nearly has whiplash. 

“Yes, I’m aware of who is in the meeting. I’m also aware of who is supposed to be in that meeting, but if you want to tell the General of the Armed Forces, the President of the United States of America, and Sarah fucking Alder that their meeting on national security is less important than your incompetency at your job, by all means, knock on the door and ask them. It’s not my ass that will be on the line.”

Thick, uncomfortable silence holds for a solid twenty seconds as the two women stare at each other. Abigail is unwavering, but Caruthers darts her eyes to the door and back again. She’s clearly uncertain of what to do. 

With a huff, Abigail steps forward and raises her hand. 

“We don’t have time for this. I’ll just do it.”

“Wait!”

Caruthers throws her arm up to block Abigail’s movement. She stops immediately, turning an expectant raised brow to the clearly uncomfortable agent. 

Finally, Caruthers gives in. 

“I’ll unlock it with the sigil.”

“Great choice.”

Abigail drops her hand and steps back immediately. Tally watches as she shifts her features into understanding seamlessly. 

“Look, I get it, these are tense times. I’d hate to see this little misunderstanding cause you any unnecessary issues. So how about I don’t tell my mother about this little mishap, and you get to keep your posting with the President?”

Caruthers nods quickly as Abigail turns, reaches out to squeeze Tally’s bicep softly and continues back towards Raelle. With her back to the agent, only Raelle can see the grin spread across her face.

Confusion colors Caruthers' face once more as Abigail retreats.

“Wait, you’re not joining?”

Abigail spins on the spot. 

“We weren’t in the Cession, Agent, and it’s inappropriate for an unauthorized individual to be given access to these meetings. You know that.”

Caruthers nods vigorously before Abigail turns once again and walks right past Raelle with purpose. Raelle smiles back at the woman, reassuring, before she begins walking backwards behind Abigail’s quickly retreating form.

“We have orders in Salem town.”

Tally watches as Raelle turns and jogs to catch up with Abigail down the hallway. Abigail merely throws one last biting comment over her shoulder. 

“Don’t keep them waiting, Agent.”. 

Caruthers stares after them for a long moment before she turns an embarrassed smile towards Tally.

“Sorry about that.”

Tally waves her off with a carefree ease, but inside, her stomach is doing flips.

“Don’t mention it. Can’t be too careful these days.”

She tenses as Caruthers leans around her to draw the sigil on the door. She stops midway and turns to give Tally an uneasy look.

“You don’t think she’s going to tell General Bellweather about this, right?”

Tally smiles, dimples on full display.

“I can say with every confidence that she won’t say a word.”

She holds the agent's gaze for a moment longer then nods raised brows towards the door in an attempt to prod her along. Caruthers smiles a relieved sigh, sufficiently disarmed by Tally's charm, and traces a sigil above the handle. 

Tally spares her one more smile before she steps forward and all but darts into the room the moment she turns the doorknob. 

Sarah’s raised voice meets her as she crosses the threshold into the room.

“It’s completely out of the question.”

Caruthers rushes to snap the door closed and Tally has never heard a louder door shutting in her life.

“It’s an option that will remain on the table and that isn’t up for debate. Too much is at stake.”

President Kelly Wade’s angry voice rings out just as loud as Sarah's mere seconds before deafening silence descends upon the room. Suddenly, Tally can feel every eye in the room upon her back. It makes her skin crawl like the time her mother had caught her sneaking in from skinny dipping with some of the compound girls after midnight. 

She’s not surprised, not really. She hadn’t expected to sneak into this room unnoticed. She’s prepared for the stares and the questions. 

“Tally.” 

What she isn’t expecting is Sarah’s shocked tone, so different from the harsh no-nonsense tone of General Alder from moments before. 

That voice has her spinning on the spot, embarrassment and consequences completely forgotten in the moment as she stares at Sarah's shocked features.

Sarah is seated on the far side of the table across from Petra and President Wade. An empty seat sits next to her. Izadora and Magda Verger are at the head of one side of the table, two other generals that Tally has seen but cannot remember next to them. A large scrying screen on the far wall is filled with an image of the Marshal somewhere in the Cession and in some twist of fate, turning in her chair at the other end of the table to grin up at her is Nicte Batan.

Tally has a split second to think about the strangeness of the grouping before Petra Bellweather is pushing back from the table, standing tall with eyebrows scrunched in confusion. 

Tally knows she should say something, but all she can do is stare at Sarah. 

Sarah, whose features are no longer marred by bruises and injuries. 

Sarah who is looking at her with such a soft expression of questioning and wonder. 

Tally takes a deep breath and works over a hard swallow. Sarah’s discerning eyes swing towards Petra as Tally eases into parade rest and forces herself to turn. 

Now or never.

“Ma’am, my apologies for interrupting. Reporting as ordered.”

Tally can see the anger on her face, watches as she wrestles it into submission behind a perfect mask of command. It is a calculated, quick transition, but anyone who knows Petra Bellweather at all knows her tells. 

Sarah leans back in her chair and merely taps a thumb against her jaw. The action is dreadfully distracting in this moment and it’s all Tally can do to not turn her full and complete attention towards it. 

Petra inhales a deep, slow breath and then nods her head curtly.

“Thank you, Sergeant Craven. I wasn’t sure you’d be feeling up to being here, but we’re definitely glad to see you up and about.”

Tally knows that the ruse is tenuous, and that Petra is definitely angry, but she also knows that it will hold. Abigail was right, there are too many eyes on her in this moment watching for any sign of weakness in Petra's leadership.

Tally's never wanted to hug Abigail more. 

Her eyes dart towards Sarah just in time to catch the small uptick of her mouth before it is gone. 

Petra swings her arm wide and gestures for Tally to join the table. 

She scrambles quickly to the far side of the room, all but throwing herself in the chair next to Sarah. She feels the knot of unease she’s had since waking up suddenly loosen now she’s that she's in the woman’s proximity again. 

Now that she can see for herself that Sarah is ok. 

The chair bumps into the far wall in Tally’s exuberance to be seated, but she pulls it close to the table without hesitation. Her eyes drop to the chair naturally as she pulls it closer only to fall on Sarah’s right hand clenched around the top of her armrest below the tabletop. 

Her knuckles are white with the force of the grip that she has on the leather. 

Tally’s gaze falters for a moment as she flicks her eyes from the tightened grip up towards Sarah’s face. It is a passive mask of calm. 

Concern and confusion race through Tally in the moment. She obviously has no idea what has gone on in this room or for the past six days for that matter. If Sarah has been being berated for what had happened in the Cession, then she was absolutely correct to come. She had made a promise in that jail cell to begin protecting Sarah. She meant to keep it. 

It is General Bellweather’s voice that pulls her from her thoughts. 

“Tally, you’ll need to undergo a full scan once you’ve been debriefed.”

Tally’s head snaps back. Her voice only shakes slightly as she stares across the table at the most powerful people in this country. 

“Yes, I understand.”

Petra gives away no indication that she is angry except for the tick at the side of her left eye. Abigail had once told a drunken Raelle and Tally about the particular quirk and how she’d accidentally discovered it. 

“And Major Verger is going to link with you to corroborate what Sarah has reported. The more information we have the better and some of us just want to make sure that the information is accurate.” 

Tension cloaks the room thickly. Tally wants to let her eyes roam freely across the myriad of faces that she sees seated around the table; stare into the truth they’re trying to hide about their distrust of the woman who has given more to witchkind than anyone. 

She can feel the anger at the injustice of the thought bubble dangerously in her stomach. 

She can do no more than nod mutely before the Marshal clears his throat. 

His face is tired as he bends towards the scry. Tally recognizes his own officers handling tasks in the background of whatever room he is in. 

“It’s not a matter of want, General Bellweather, it’s a matter of need. You’re talking about two people who ran from the authorities of a sovereign country after murdering natives.” 

Tally snaps before she can stop herself. 

“We didn’t murder anyone.”

She feels Sarah stiffen beside her and she turns a quick look her way before she stares angrily up into the Marshal’s face filling the entirety of the wall. 

“In fact, General Alder was nearly murdered because of the incompetence of your team that was meant to help us. And instead of listening to us, we were chased, attacked, and very nearly killed.”

The Marshal’s knowing eyes lock onto hers and stay. There’s something in his look, something that almost feels like he can read her mind, which Tally knows is impossible from where he is.

Don’t look away.

Her gift is screaming at her so suddenly that she barely keeps the gasp that wants to lose held back.

With a solid clearing of her own throat, Magda Verger lances the tension in the room. 

“How about we satisfy that right now? Craven has just come in, she and General Alder haven’t spoken. Let’s just see what we’re dealing with.”

Sarah’s eyes are on her, Tally is sure. She desperately wants to turn to look at her, but her gift holds firm. She won't turn to look.

Hesitation churns in her stomach at the thought. Of course, she had come to this room with the distinct intention of corroborating Sarah’s intel, but suddenly faced with the makeup of the room, she isn’t sure how she’s meant to go through with it. 

She has no problem submitting to a scrying link, but there are things about the experience that she and Sarah have shared that she doesn’t want to show anyone else. 

Especially the people in this room. 

She hesitates for a moment too long. 

With a raised brow, the Marshal leans close once again.

“Something the matter, Sergeant Craven?”

Everything in Tally is screaming to stare up at the man once more, but she has learned to trust her gift beyond her own understanding. She won’t stop listening now. 

She directs her statement directly to General Bellweather. 

“I’m happy to submit to anything, ma’am, but there are personal moments that…” 

How is she to say this? How is she meant to say that she won’t be the reason that Sarah feels even more splayed open to those she trusts the least? She doesn’t care what these people think of her, but she won't betray Sarah like that.

And really, what had she expected? She had actively hijacked a top-secret meeting to verify intelligence and now is hesitating when presented with the very thing she was coming to do? She doesn’t know why she hadn’t expected to immediately be presented with just this exact moment. She knew walking into this room meant telling her side of the story, but to hand over her memories of the tender moments they shared? To hand over moments of Sarah’s pride being diminished by being out of control and vulnerable? That isn’t hers to give. 

Tally nods, folds her hands on the table and looks at Petra again.

“There are personal moments that I would rather not broadcast. Those moments are private and should remain that way.”

Petra opens her mouth to respond, but President Wade’s forceful snarl beats her to it. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Do you think we care about whatever mooning you have engaged in on a drive? This is about preventing a war!”

Anger radiates through Tally’s stomach once again, but she refuses to give in to the temptation of it. It is with great determination of will that she is able to keep her voice steady. 

“I understand that ma’am, but I am still due some privacy. I will submit to anything you’d like; I’d simply ask that my personal privacy is taken into account.” 

Kelly Wade slams a hand on the wooden tabletop. 

“This is ridiculous.”

Sarah’s hand flinches at the echo of the smack. Tally drops her gaze to watch the tick along the skin on the back of her hand. 

With a very slow breath in, she twists her head and stares coldly into the eyes of the President of the United States.

“If we can’t do something as basic as respecting people as people, then what are we even fighting for?”

The sneer that crosses the woman’s face is out of place on the put together politician. 

“Oh, is that your rallying line now?”

Tally feels it like a slap to the face and her body reflexively tightens in her seat. The question hangs icily in the air. The just barely beneath the surface implication of her somehow bearing responsibility for the Mother’s gift, of their actions saving the world somehow being wrong, stands stark in the room. 

Inexperience and guilt burn at her stomach. 

People all over the world must be feeling exactly the same way. How foolish of her to believe for a second that this could ever be seen as simply a gift. 

The people they encountered across the Cession. 

The natives whose disdain was palpable. 

The men with their stolen voices. 

The President of the United States.  

How are they supposed to fix this? 

Tally tries to swallow the feeling down. Sarah’s voice is suddenly low from beside her, but Tally won’t take her eyes off of the furious woman next to Petra. She seems poised for a fight. She's surprised that she isn't seeing waves of uncontrolled Work wafting from her. 

“The Mother’s gift saved the world, Madam President and Tally Craven’s contribution in that was great. As great as uncovering a plot to pit the United States against the Cession in an all out war. It would do well for you to remember that.”

Tally watches as Kelly Wade leans slowly back in her chair. Disdain for Sarah is painted easily across her features. She draws in one long, deep breath and for a moment Tally isn’t quite sure that it won’t be to release some Work in Sarah’s direction. She tenses with the thought.

Petra studies the scene for a long moment before her eyes flick to Sarah’s position. Outwardly Tally knows without looking that the woman appears completely in control, but Sarah’s hand is trembling with the force of her grip on the chair arm. Tally can feel the cracks in her control from where she sits. 

Slowly, calculating eyes move across the table between the two of them before Petra nods. 

“Major Verger is quite adept at extracting only pertinent information, Tally. I assure you that no one here wants to invade your privacy, but we do need to see the information you’ve also witnessed.”

Panic lances through Tally at the near certainty they will see Sarah’s freak out. It was one of the initial actions after the discovery of the bodies. They’ll have to see it. Tears sting her eyes as she aches for an alternative. The now General of the United States Army, a representative of a foreign country, the President of the United States, and Nicte Batan are sitting in this room and she’s about to spill something that had caused Sarah to go silent and distant when it was just her that had witnessed it. 

She takes a deep breath as she drops her eyes to her lap. Sarah’s grip has left the chair arm and ever so softly, she feels trembling fingers rest against her knee under the table. 

A wave of protectiveness surges through Tally at the touch. Sarah’s intent gaze is upon her once more when she meets it with her own pleading look. 

I’m so sorry. Tell me what to do. Please. 

Sarah’s gaze seems to soften in understanding. It’s the soft squeeze against her leg that finally makes Tally’s decision for her. 

She steels her spine and turns with a deep inhale.

“Ok.”

Petra’s gaze jumps between them once more before Tally turns towards Magda Verger and nods.

“Do what you need to do.”

Verger chances a glance at Petra. With one nod from the General, Magda Verger pushes up from her chair without a moment’s hesitation. Her cane thumps loudly on the tile floor as she rounds the table towards Tally and Sarah. 

Protectiveness rises in Tally’s chest as she nears Sarah, but she is intellectually aware that the feeling is ridiculous. Logically, she knows that Sarah is safe in this room, but with every step that Verger comes closer, she’s even more painfully aware of the truths that are about to be revealed that she just cannot stop. 

She draws in a shaky inhale when Sarah shares a wordless look up at Verger. Whatever the look conveys must carry heavy intent because Verger drops a hand to Sarah’s shoulder and squeezes once. Sarah scrapes the chair back and rises with only a moment’s hesitation. 

When Major Verger drops into the chair that Sarah has just given her, Tally searches her face uneasily. Of course, Verger’s face gives nothing away, but when Tally allows her gaze to drift over the woman’s shoulder, she finds Sarah’s eyes burning into her. 

Determination settles across her stomach once more at the look. Sarah would never say it aloud, but Tally can see the hesitation and worry stretched across her face. How in the world had she ever considered Sarah unreadable once upon a time? 

Suddenly, she calms with certainty of how this exercise is going to go. She knows Magda Verger is renowned for her intelligence gathering abilities, but she is the greatest Knower in a generation. She will not allow any moments of weakness from Sarah to be seen. 

Not in this room.

Not to these people.

Never again.

The sound of a second scry scraping across the fine tabletop grounds Tally in the moment. 

Verger activates it with a subvocal seed. 

“Are you ready, Craven?”

Verger’s rough, deep voice pulls Tally’s attention back to her face as an easy calm begins to settle over her. 

Don’t look away.

Tally nods and Verger reaches forward to grasp her arms.

“Just close your eyes. Clear your mind and let yourself recall the information as I ask you questions.”

Tally follows the orders despite the number of eyes that she can feel on her. Her skin prickles with the attention, but all of her focus is on protecting Sarah. The information will come – the truth will out, but Sarah’s privacy will remain that way.

“How did you come upon the bodies in the woods?”

Images race through Tally’s mind. 

The car swerving to a halt.

The tug at her gut that commanded her to not look away.

Sarah’s voice calling after her.

The natives arranged all around, bodies mutilated. 

The officers emerging from the woods. 

Sarah being collared.

“What’s happening?”

Tally can hear President Wade’s angry questioning, but she keeps her eyes shut and her mind clear. 

From in front of her, Verger shifts. Tally can feel her mind’s probing ease back from the pressure into her own thoughts. 

“She’s got a shield up on these next few moments. I could force it, but I don’t think it’s going to be relevant.”

Wade scoffs.

“We need to see everything there is to see.”

Petra's calm voice fills the space.

“It’s what we agreed to, Madam President. Clearly, this is one of those moments that Sergeant Craven wants to be kept private. I think we have seen enough of what occurred to understand that what Sarah said was correct. Major Verger, please continue.”

There is only a moment for Tally to register Petra’s words before Magda Verger’s mind presses forward. 

“Alright, Craven. What happened next?”

****

One hour later and all information conveyed, Tally leans back into her chair. She’s exhausted by the effort of relieving the information of everything she and Sarah had been through – down to the fire outside of Edwin Collar’s home - and concealing what she refused to be seen. 

Sarah is once again seated next to her, but her demeanor is a little less rigid than it had been before, and Tally finds herself eternally grateful for that small win. 

The other side of the table, however, is not as calm. 

Peatra Bellweather’s posture is one of barely controlled rage. Her spine is stiff, her eyes flashing as she turns to stare up into the scry screen on the far wall.

“Do you want to explain to me, Marshal Horse, why two American citizens were pursued so doggedly and without cause to the point of psychological work being used as a tactic of near torture?”

Sarah shifts slightly in her chair and Tally spares her a glance. She wants to reach out and take her hand, but to do so would be entirely inappropriate in this moment. 

The Marshal clears his throat and shifts, but his stare is just as hard as he takes in the room.

“Need I remind you, General Bellweather, that the Council of the Great River has condoned the use of such tactics in pursuit of those who have committed atrocities on our lands?”

Petra’s retort is quick and deadly. A military precision attack. 

“And what atrocities did Sarah Alder and Tally Craven commit?”

The Marshal falls silent and Petra presses the advantage.

“You wanted their help in discovering what had happened. Tally Craven gave that to you by pushing herself in feats that no witch has ever seen before. Instead of helping replenish her, your officers pushed her to her near breaking point. You allowed Sarah Alder to be nearly killed, didn’t listen to Tally Craven when she tried to explain what had happened and then nearly killed them yourselves. It’s truly a miracle that two American military soldiers, one a decorated General of the United States Army, weren’t killed. Sergeant Tally Craven has been in a coma on this base for six days.”

The Marshal holds up a hand to stop the rush of words.

“I understand your anger, General Bellweather…”

Petra spins her chair fully towards the wall now and rises from it in one smooth motion. Her voice pitches as she tucks her hands behind her back and stands to her full height. 

“I assure you that you do not. You want to talk of a transgressions against the Cession, but as far as we can see, these two did absolutely nothing wrong. Yet were imprisoned, attacked, hunted, and nearly killed by Cession witches that you yourself directed them to assist. So, no, Marshal, I’m afraid you do not understand my anger. Your actions were the transgression here, not ours.”

Silence descends once again on the room. Tally has always known that a Bellweather’s temper is a thing to behold and has seen Abigail’s on too many occasions. But Petra Bellweather’s anger is a feat of its own. She is a storm barely contained as the pressure builds. 

With a deep sigh, the Marshal deflates. 

“I assure you that I am aware of the situation. Things spun out of control here very quickly and for that, I sincerely apologize. However, you have to understand the optics of the situation here. My people thought they were in the right to pursue them. Obviously, we have now recovered the men in the woods and the witch wearing a false face at the facility. All charges have been dropped against Tally Craven and Sarah Alder here, even though I was the only one who knew it was her.”

Thank the Goddess for small miracles. 

Tally can feel her muscles relaxing for the first time in a week it seems. Beside her, Sarah merely bows her head. Petra and the Marshal’s discussion seems to fade into the background as Tally’s attention shifts fully to Sarah’s posture.

She’s bowed in her chair and though this moment is monumentally important, Tally can tell she isn’t paying attention. Not that she can blame her, she isn’t paying attention herself, but clearly something has occupied Sarah’s thoughts to the point of distraction. 

It’s not something Tally has ever really associated with the woman and that in and of itself is not only odd, but it has alarm bells ringing in Tally’s mind. 

Something is very wrong. 

Tally knows that Sarah must feel her staring at her, but she is determinedly refusing to look at her. When Sarah raises her head to instead rejoin the conversation, Tally can see right through it. The jump of her jaw, the hard swallow.

No, something is definitely not ok. Now that she’s seen the crack in the façade, she is as certain of it as she is the beating of her own heart. The certainty of it pulses in her ears with the thump thump thump of her suddenly racing heartbeat. 

“We need your help to keep this from escalating.”

The words snap Tally from her reverie and she is suddenly nauseous with the ripped away power of her gift. She blinks several times in quick succession to try to clear the strength of the tide of her intuition away. 

The meeting has continued because of course it has. This is a top secret military meeting between the United States government and Army and another country teetering on the brink of all out war. Tally really has no business being in this room except given what she herself had gone through. The idea of Sarah doing it alone just couldn’t stand. 

She’d drag herself out of a ditch on the verge of death to make sure that Sarah didn’t face anything else alone. 

The fact that she knows exactly what the certainty of that feeling means about her feelings towards the woman is inconsequential. Her feelings towards Sarah can’t really be defined, but she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s not going to allow her to face anything else alone ever again. 

She’d made a promise in the cell, and she intended to keep it. 

Tally sits straighter in her chair and forces her attention back to the proceedings unfolding. 

“We know there is something larger happening here, General, but if we are to prevent an all out war, I need your cooperation and help in discovering exactly what that is and who is behind it.”

President Wade shifts forward. 

“I’m sorry, Marshal, but I will not authorize another soldier from the United States military to return to the Cession after this treatment. I can't be certain that they won’t be on the receiving end of the exact treatment of Sergeant Craven and General Alder – two soldiers who I don’t need to remind you are known worldwide. And you expect me to send unknown soldiers into hostile territory?”

The question hangs for a moment. The Marshal’s eyes flick to Tally and Sarah and then back again.

“Forgive me, Madam President, but it’s my understanding that Ms. Craven and Sarah Alder are no longer military.”

Tally feels the burn of the insinuation in her chest. This identity stripped away. While it is technically true, the notion that the Marshal is making is that what occurred isn’t as bad because she and Sarah weren’t military.

Technically.

Tally senses Sarah tense beside her. Across the table, Petra bristles but Tally watches as she tugs her uniform tightly down. 

She’s fighting something, Tally can see it all the way across the room. 

Finally, Petra sighs.

“Technically speaking, at this point Tally Craven isn’t officially military anymore and Sarah technically has not been reinstated. That is correct.”

The Marshal leans forward once more.

“I’m not saying this to push a sore spot. However, that fact may buy us some good will to ease the tension off of this situation.”

Petra tosses one glance towards Sarah and then back again at the cherry picking of information to help the cause. 

Tally has the distinct impression that this is not too far from the norm of how geopolitical decisions are always made. The thought is terrifying to say the least. 

“You may be right. Very well, Marshal. What exactly are you proposing?”

The man wipes a hand across a tired face and then sighs once more. The pressure of this situation is heavy on all sides. Neither of them want war, that much is certain, but pride and saving face is too big of an idea to just abandon all together when it's on a scale this big. 

Tally leans back into her chair, already exhausted by the realization that this is daily life as a world leader. How much of this did Sarah have to juggle over her centuries of duty?

So much of what Sarah had to endure, so many of the questionable decisions made – how much of it had always been to just keep the peace of the world at the cost of a chess piece here or there? 

Tally looks up at her profile, still determinedly not looking in Tally’s direction, and so much more of Sarah finally slides into focus. 

“No one wants war, but the gift that was bestowed on everyone sure as hell didn't set this up to be easy. This situation is shaky at best and already teetering on a razor. You and I both want this to drop from a boil to a simmer, so I will reiterate that I need help to do that. And it can’t be either of them.”

Tally watches as he points directly in her direction. 

“She killed a native outside that water treatment facility. One of our team.” 

Petra speaks before Tally can open her mouth.

“It was a false face.”

“Yes, I’m aware, but anger and perceived truths make a powerful duo. Even though we culled out the ones who believed it and showed them the truth, it will have already spread.” 

Petra nods tightly as President Wade speaks up once more. 

“So tell everyone the truth.”

The Marshal shakes his head with another sigh.

“We can’t. We don’t know what this group wants yet or what their plan is. And there’s just enough anger, confusion and tension to be ripe with pickings for revolt.”

Magda Verger speaks now, both hands folded across the top of her cane. 

“You’ve seen the documentation that Sarah and Craven were able to gather. You know what they are likely trying to do.”

Petra shakes her head at the statement. Tally can see the heaviness of the situation weighing on her shoulders, but Petra wears the responsibility well.

“Likely yes, but there’s no real proof there. Nothing concrete at least. It’s speculation at best and I won't fight a war on speculation.” 

The Marshal’s face pushes closer to the screen as he leans in once more. 

“This shitshow aside, we still have a group who is playing at something big. We don’t know anything about them or what they’re trying to do. I need someone discreet who can get in here and work behind the scenes.”

A throat clears at the far end of the table and Tally’s head swivels towards Nicte immediately.

The woman smiles tightly and leans back. The carefree demeanor that is Nicte’s constant companion is hardened in this moment. She quirks one eyebrow high and looks around the room.

“I know I’m not technically military anymore, either, but I do have an idea if you’d care to hear it.”

The statement is simple and a clear choice to the room. Tally knows what’s going to unfold in a moment’s notice. 

President Wade looks like she’d swallowed a fly as she takes a deep breath in and exhales loudly. 

“Go ahead, Ms. Batan.”

Nicte smiles a tiny smile in her direction that does not reach her eyes. 

Perhaps that working arrangement isn’t exactly as easy as it had seemed before. 

“Activate the Spree.”

The room explodes in a flurry of protests and statements one over the other, but Tally watches as Petra merely leans back in her chair and locks eyes with Sarah across the table. 

Nicte tilts her head and waits the noise out. 

After a few moments of arguing from the President and generals, Petra must have her answer, because she leans towards the table and smacks its top loudly.

“Enough!”

The room falls into a hushed silence immediately. 

She turns a hesitant stare towards Nicte once more. The thickness of the tension in the room is nearly smothering by the time she finally speaks.

“Do it.”

Nicte nods tightly once, but she says nothing else.  Petra turns to the Marshal once more, spine straight and now in complete command of the room. 

“The surveillance there signified that it was in fact Americans who were behind this. If we're going to keep this in check, then we need to be the ones to bring them to justice. They want us to fight each other, so we don't. Your people need to be the ones to apprehend them and Nicte and the Spree can get you more information quicker than the US Armed Forces can.” 

The Marshal nods tightly. 

“Look, Madame President, General Bellweather. I will hold this off as long as possible, but the Council of the Great River is not happy. They’re being pushed just as we are to find out what is happening. Sooner or later, this is all going to come crashing down unless we have something definitive.” 

“Then that’s what we’ll have to do. Nicte will join you in the Cession. She’ll activate the members of the Spree that she can trust the most. They are to remain undercover in as many hidden corners in the Cession as you can find. We’ll do the same here in the US with undercover officers. Someone will give up an answer.”

Tally can’t believe her ears. Yes, the Army and the Spree had had to work together before to put an end to the Camarilla, but to mobilize them now as an extended arm of the Armed Forces? It seems dangerous times make strange bedfellows indeed. 

The Marshal’s voice is gruff when he speaks once more. 

“I can’t guarantee your safety, Ms. Batan.” 

Nicte turns a grin up to the scrying screen. 

“I didn’t ask you to.”

Across the table, Tally watches Petra pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Nicte.”

The simple statement works instantaneously. Nicte leans forward, demeanor changing in an instant. 

“I do my best work when I’m being hunted. It gives an extra incentive. Not like all out war isn’t a good enough one.”

The cockiness shifts once more. 

“My people are good, and I know how to lead them despite what you may think of me.”

From the scrying screen, The Marshal shakes his head.

“What I think of you doesn’t really matter. It’s just what you can contribute that counts.” 

Nicte smiles a tight smile. 

“Lucky for us, then.”

With one last deep sigh, the Marshal nods. 

“Very well, I’ll send some of my marshals to meet you in two days’ time at the Illinois border crossing. It’s the safest bet now they've made their way out of the Virginia one. I’ll have an officer stationed there at the checkpoint. You’ll be able to get in.” 

Nicte smiles tightly. 

“And how am I to recognize this man?”

The Marshal stares intently for a moment and then a grin tucks across one side of his face. 

“If you’ve got suspicions, I trust you have other ways of being persuasive.” 

Nicte merely tilts her head in agreement. 

“That’s set then. I’ve got some preparations to make here. I’ll go to the Council and explain what’s happening, but you and I may need to have a talk off the books about putting some people undercover in some very dangerous places. I don’t like the thought that we may be compromised on the Council.”

The ominous idea sits over the proceedings like an unexploded bomb. 

Petra looks across at the President who merely nods her head once.

“Very well, Marshal. Batan will see you in 2 days time.”

The scrying screen goes dark without another word. For a moment, Tally merely allows the tension of the reality of what is occurring to sit.

Sarah had been so right so long ago. Tally had asked her questions about the things she had seen in her visions, but she hadn’t even realized the right questions to ask about a situation that was far more complicated than she’d ever realized. Seeing the inner workings of diplomacy and war now, she cannot imagine that Liberia had been any less complicated to maneuver. 

Her heart aches for a moment with guilt and shame. She had no idea what Sarah had had to do in that moment. How foolish and young and naïve she had been to even fathom that she could have possibly known. 

At the far end of the table, Nicte leans across to whisper to President Wade. Tally watches as Wade nods her head curtly once. Nicte spares Tally and Sarah a moment’s glance before she pushes her chair back, stands and crosses the room. 

Tally wants to call out to her to be careful – to warn her that whatever is happening in the Cession is much deeper and more insidious than they know.

The door closes behind the woman before Tally can even finish the thought. 

Petra’s deep sigh from across the table pulls Tally’s fading attention back to the moment at hand. 

“Now that that is settled, Sarah, we need to finish our discussion on the other matter at hand.”

Sarah’s hand grips the chair arm tightly once more. Tally stares down at it in confusion.

Sarah’s voice is steel when she speaks finally.

“I have already told you that it is out of the question.”

Tally watches the display of emotions cross Petra’s face at the answer. Instead of responding directly to Sarah, she turns a question to Izadora instead.

“Lt. L’Amara?”

Confusion fills Tally’s chest at the change of conversation. Her mind briefly remembers Sarah’s raised voice as she entered the room earlier, but Izadora’s quick and concise words cut off the train of thought. 

“The Mycelium still shows no signs of restarting. I’ve run test after test, but I have no answers to give about it at this time.”

Sarah sighs deeply from her position. 

“The Mycelium was not healed after the First Song. Returning me to the earth may have depleted it.”

Wait. Does that mean?

Tally’s thoughts spill out before she can contain them.

“Does that mean you came back and she…”

Sarah’s eyes turn to hers finally and the words die in Tally’s throat at the look.

It is Petra who breaks the silence. 

“Sarah. We can’t afford to have a war without your voice.”

Tally’s head snaps to stare at Petra across the table.

“Wait, what?”

Ice cold fear races in her veins as she turns from Petra towards Sarah once more. 

Here it is. This is what was wrong.

She works her suddenly dry throat over a hard swallow as she stares at Sarah. The woman is determinedly staring at Petra across the table, clearly locked in a silent war that they’ve likely played out a thousand times.

Only this time it’s because there’s something wrong with Sarah’s voice.

Memories race through Tally’s mind of moments in the Cession.

Sarah’s work being less powerful.

Sarah’s refusal to be linked.

Sarah refusing to talk.

Disbelief slams into Tally like a blow to the gut. 

“You knew?”

Sarah’s eyes water at the whispered question, but she refuses once again to look at Tally. 

It’s Izadora’s gentle voice that breaks the tension this time. 

“Sarah’s vocal cords have been damaged. Her songs are weaker. Without the Mycelium, there is no way to have the Mother help heal her.”

“She couldn’t help me anyway. I’m mortal remember?”

Tally feels like a bucket of ice water has been poured over her head. It was one thing to have Raelle and Abigail speculate, but to hear Sarah so casually say it aloud to this room somehow makes Tally feel like she’s hearing it for the first time again. And now to know that the most powerful witch on earth is suddenly suffering from damage to her vocal cords? Tally’s mind cannot compute all of the jumbled emotions.

A witch without her songs…

Tally resolutely blinks back the threat of sudden tears as her vision blurs. 

She can feel this later, right now is about Sarah.

“So, what does this mean?”

Izadora looks to Sarah for a moment before she answers Tally's question. When she does, it is with the precision of a clinic analysis.

“A witch suffering from this damage cannot produce as strong of seeds as before. The condition will continue to degrade with every work unless intervention is taken.”

Tally’s head spins with the knowledge. 

So, this explains why Sarah was acting so erratically in the Cession. She had to have known that something was wrong with her. She had been behaving so irrationally at times. She was sleeping so much. She wasn’t utilizing her senses the way Tally knew she should. She hadn’t sensed the witches moving to put the collar on, she didn’t think about going into that converted hospital - she didn’t even know that a man was going to stab her. She had been reacting on instinct and not on planning. More than that, she had refused to allow Tally to link with her and had kept her at arm’s length after the jail.

Petra exhales heavily and lays a hand halfway across the table. 

“Sarah, I don't want to order you to undergo the surgery, but I urge you to consider what it would mean otherwise. Yours is a voice we can't lose if this goes a way we don’t want and you know that.”

Tally cannot take her eyes off of Sarah. 

Surgery?

Sarah blinks quickly a few times and Tally aches with the knowledge that she’s been handling this all alone while Tally had been laying in the infirmary. How long had she known something was wrong but didn’t know definitely what it was? 

With a deep exhale, Sarah blinks down at the tabletop.

“What is the risk?”

“Complete loss of use of the vocal cords.”

Tally’s head snaps to Izadora immediately.

“Excuse me?”

How in the world could these people even suggest this intervention? Sarah without her vocal cords?

Never again hearing her speak. 

Hearing her laugh. 

Feeling the power of her work? 

The thought is absolutely unfathomable. 

Tally tries unsuccessfully to shake the rising anger from her mind. 

“How can you even suggest that to her?”

From beside her, Sarah’s head raises in Tally’s direction. 

Petra raises a hand from her chair across the table in an attempt to dissuade whatever anger must be on her face.

“Tally, I understand your reaction, but there are bigger things at risk here.”

Fury lances across Tally’s chest.

“Bigger things? She’s told you that she doesn’t want that option and you’re not listening to her.”

President Wade’s voice is low when she speaks.

“Watch your tone, soldier.”

Tally spins her fury her way.

“Oh, I’m a solider again?”

President Wade merely stares before she leans forward, rising to her full height in her chair. Her entire posture is laced with dangerous command.

”Need I remind you with whom you are speaking?” 

Tally doesn’t care. The display only serves to fuel the fire in her gut. Bolstered by the steady presence of Sarah at her side and the boiling need to protect her, Tally merely raises a brow. She inhales a slow, deep breath and leans forward to place herself physically between Sarah and Wade’s eyeline. 

“Need I remind you?” 

Sarah is staring in open disbelief and shock at the back of Tally’s head as the tension ratchets up once again. Izadora watches the scene with morbid interest before she cuts it off.  

“The Mycelium is dormant now, but with time and study she may yet wake, and this will all be moot.”

Petra’s gaze bounces from President Wade's blatant anger to Tally’s furious stare. She doesn’t turn her eyes away.

“We can’t take that chance.”

With a cautious glance around the room, Izadora throws scientific reasoning to the side. 

“There is perhaps something else. While there is no other scientific way, there is a suggestion spoken of in texts so ancient that it is relegated to the realm of folklore. A tea, properly brewed with the exact ingredients, can ground a witch once again in her song.”

Tally blinks through the haze of her fury. The Necro’s words begin to sink in slowly and she spins her stare towards the other end of the table, President Wade forgotten. 

“What does that mean?”

Izadora raises a hand to the curious glances turned now towards her. 

“It’s not something I can confirm and I don’t want to give false hope, but I did find mention in an ancient text of the idea that a witch’s vocal cords can be healed from…”

Sarah’s voice interrupts.

“The land of her roots.”

Tally isn’t the only one who stares at Sarah’s sudden completion of the sentence. 

Sarah merely stares at the tabletop and doesn’t elaborate. Her eyes dart back and forth across its surface in thought, as if pulling a long-lost memory to mind. 

Petra raises a brow in confusion.

“Sarah? 

Sarah squints her eyes closed as she struggles with the thought. 

“It… there’s a long distant memory. My grandmother once told me the reason a witch’s home is so important is because she is made of that land.”

She open her eyes slowly. 

“It may be possible.”

Hope springs to life in Tally’s chest at the unknown declaration, but Sarah isn’t finished.

“But it’s been over 300 years. I don’t know that I’d even know where to begin now.”

Relief washes over Petra’s features as she smiles. Her eyes dance to Tally and back again.

“Lucky for you we have a very powerful Knower who can pull memories from land.” 

Tally’s head snaps towards Petra once more. Petra tilts her head towards her with only a slight hint of anger in her eyes.

“Tally will accompany you.”

Tally’s eyes crawl back to Sarah. Disbelief rattles her insides like a shutter in a storm. There has been too much and yet frighteningly too little information given here – too many things that could go wrong in this situation. 

Sarah’s wet eyes are bright as she turns to let her gaze fall directly back to Tally.

Once upon a time she had demanded Sarah share more of herself than she was willing to give. Now, she is being ordered to do the same. She knows how vital this part of their mission is, the implications of Sarah Alder’s voice no longer being added to a great war is unthinkable, but Tally will not force Sarah’s hand.

Never again. 

Sarah swallows a hard swallow and nods once in acceptance of the order. Tally merely smiles a tight smile in return. 

Petra pushes her chair back and stands. Her voice holds the tenor of absolute no-nonsense as she moves.

“Then I think we’re dismissed here. Sarah, I’d like you to speak to Izadora about this further – Tally, you’re to report to the Infirmary immediately for a full check-up.”

President Wade is out the door without a look backwards. The others, excluding Sarah who stands stock still by the table, file out silently behind her. 

Tally stands on shaky knees as Petra rounds the table towards the door. Now that the room is cleared of other ears, she expects to have a good dressing down from General Bellweather. 

Petra pulls up short and turns slowly back towards them.

“Tally. While I appreciate your ingenuity in getting into this room, and while your input was certainly necessary for us to proceed, you will be so kind as to tell me where I can find my daughter.”

Sorry, Abigail.

“Uh…she’s in Salem town, ma’am, with Raelle. They left earlier this afternoon when I left the Infirmary. They tried to keep me from coming here, but I asked them to get something for me in town.”

Petra sizes her up momentarily, eyes piercing, and Tally has the distinct impression that she can see right through the lie immediately. 

Petra drags a deep breath through her nose and smiles a tight lipped smile. 

“That is very convenient.”

Tally looses the nervous chuckle without restraint. She can feel Sarah’s eyes on her from behind and she is aching to turn to her, but Petra holds the door open wide, raises one hand and motions for Tally to move. 

“Well then, someone has to ensure you make it back to the Infirmary because Sarah is headed to the Necropolis. Come on. I’ll take you.”

Tally chances one look back at Sarah before she steps forward and allows Petra to guide her into the hallway.

****

It had been an hour and a half since Petra had dropped her off in the Infirmary. Tally had been shaky-kneed the entire walk to the building, her mind on autopilot, but Petra hadn’t said another word about her sneaking into the meeting. It was almost as if the woman had walked her there in an attempt to give Tally space in processing all that she had been told before she would be seen and cleared by Colonel Wick. Tally didn’t admit it in the moment, but her solid, motherly presence had been very much appreciated. 

When they had arrived into the Infirmary Ward, Colonel Wick had been met with a defiant set of strict instructions to alert General Bellweather if Tally left without being discharged again. 

All throughout it, Tally’s mind had reeled.

Sarah is injured. 

Devastatingly so.

Tally had known all during their time in the Cession, once she had stumbled them into an impressive mess and dangerous plot, that Sarah had been hurt. She still had no idea how the woman had managed to find the strength to keep going with her physical injuries, but knowing without confirmation that there was something wrong with the core of who she is as a witch?

How had she been able to process that? How had Tally not seen it? 

Could she have done something? Was it because Sarah had returned? Did Tally herself cause this cascade of events to unfold? Would they be able to find what they needed in Sarah’s homeland?

The thought stops Tally’s pacing in her tracks. She stares blankly into the distance at the far wall and then slides down to sit on the side of the bed beneath her. 

Sarah’s home. 

It was a source of unimaginable heartache for her. The place where she became hunted for the first time. The place where she had lost her parents, where she and her sister had fled from the Camarilla. 

Tally now knows from the confession in the War Room that Sarah has never been back. Had she even ever wanted to? 

They haven't ever talked about it and now Tally was going to go there, stick her hands into the soil and pull every aching secret that Sarah held about the place out of thin air without her permission. 

The guilt of what she is ordered to do rolls a wave of nausea through her stomach.

Tally wants to pace outside. She wants to run to Sarah and discuss what’s supposed to happen. She wants to apologize and let her know that she would never, ever force this hand.

She wants to do that but the option has been summarily removed from her control. Colonel Wick had instructed her to not leave this room until the results of her testing came back as clear. 

Abigail and Raelle had stopped by to deliver the package she had asked of them and Tally had debriefed them as best she could, but even they hadn’t received the full picture of what was to happen. Tally just couldn’t bring herself to sort through all of the jumbled mess to explain it. 

She and Sarah would be leaving to travel to Europe on a mission. That was all she had told them, because keeping Sarah’s truth while she could was the only kindness she may be able to give. 

Well, that and the package tucked safely under her pillow now. 

With a deep sigh, Tally turns to the front of the bed and drops unceremoniously onto it fully. 

Her thoughts swirl a mile a minute, too fast to parse out the individual pieces of what she is thinking and seeing. With everything in her mind, she imagines Sarah must be experiencing something even harder to fathom. 

As if her thoughts had conjured the woman herself, a soft chuckle from the far side of the room yanks Tally’s head that way.

Sarah is walking towards her slowly, a gentle smile on her face. 

“Well, that was perhaps the most dramatic way I’ve ever seen someone lay down.”

Warmth spreads through her chest at the sight of the woman. All she has wanted since she woke up was to be alone with her, to see for herself that she is ok and now here she is and Tally finds herself unable to voice anything. 

She pushes herself up slowly, dropping her feet off of the front of the bed as Sarah steps up in front of them. 

“Glad to see you got the clothes I left for you.”

“That was you?”

Sarah nods and glances away.

“I thought perhaps you’d wake and come looking for me.”

It’s a simple declaration, but the care of it sends flutters of warmth through Tally.

“That was very smart of you.”

Sarah's mouth twitches as she lifts one shoulder.

“Well, I am a brilliant tactician.”

Tally smiles at the easy banter they seem to fall into so effortlessly. It’s not always been this way between them, but Tally wouldn’t trade it for anything. Even though she knows that Sarah is actively trying to not discuss any of the heavy things they should discuss. Maybe she should push her, but Tally figures she deserves the right to talk about it at her own pace. 

Sarah grows slowly serious and shuffles her foot across the floor. It’s an uncertainty that Tally has rarely seen from her. 

“How are you feeling?”

A thousand responses tear through Tally’s thoughts, but she swallows and merely smiles.

“I’m ok.”

Déjà vu hits her hard and for a moment, it pulls a small smile onto her face. 

Sarah raises a silent brow and Tally shakes her head at the unspoken question.

“Déjà vu.”

Sarah hums in response, her eyes dancing around the room as she seemingly loses herself in the memory. 

“It seems like a very long time ago now.”

There is a chasm of emotion between them, Tally can feel the distance of the unspoken words. She hates it immediately.

She desperately wants to reach across it, but she doesn’t know what to do. Do they talk about what is going on? They will have to at some point, but Tally has never been one to beat around the bush. Especially not with Sarah. 

“Tally, I…”

“Look, I wanted…”

They talk over each other suddenly as if the idea has sprung to mind in a joint consciousness. Manners outweigh all else and in a moment, both are attempting to usher the other to speak.

“After you…”

“You go on…”

Sarah chuckles half heartedly and drops her gaze. With a deep sigh she raises it once more to look Tally in the eye. Tally’s heart speeds up at the look of hesitation that plants itself on Sarah’s face. 

“I want to apologize to you.”

Tally’s brows pinch together at the statement. 

“What on earth could you have to apologize for?”

Sarah sighs once more and turns roughly away. Tally misses her eyes immediately, but she says nothing as Sarah swipes at her forehead. She takes one step towards the bed and then turns a step in the other direction. 

Finally, internal war seemingly fought, she turns a last time to end in the exact place she had been when she started. Her hands smack into her sides when she drops them. 

Tally doesn’t think she’s ever seen Sarah so immensely conflicted with whatever she is about to say.

“It’s my fault that you…”

Understanding slams into Tally and she shakes her head before Sarah can even finish her sentence.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Sarah sighs and steps forward. 

“Don’t say no to me, let me say this.”

Tally shakes her head harder, as if that alone will stop Sarah’s useless apology from coming. Tally has always been an effusive talker whose hands have a mind of their own when she’s worked up. It’s no different now as she pointedly begins waving them for emphasis.

“Absolutely not, Sarah, none of this is your fault. You have to stop taking things onto yourself all the time!”

Sarah snatches Tally’s hands from the air and the anxiety deflates from her at the touch.

Sarah stares for a moment longer to be sure before she lets her eyes drop to the hands in her own. She wraps her fingers around Tally’s slowly as she stares at them. Tally’s breath hitches the moment that her thumbs begin a slow caress over the knuckles of both hands. 

Sufficiently silenced, Sarah steps further into her space. Tally can feel the warmth of her body. All she wants to do is pull her close and whisper words of encouragement and solace to her, to let her know that she will be there every step of the way, but Sarah’s mere proximity has stuttered the words in her throat. 

Sarah’s voice is low when she finally speaks. 

“If I had just listened to you - had just trusted that you would understand why we couldn’t stop no matter what linking with me would have caused you to feel...”

Tally watches as she works her throat over a hard swallow.

“Maybe I would have been strong enough to end that chase through the woods. Maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Tally’s eyes water as she watches the open turmoil that is written all over Sarah’s face. When Sarah raises her watery gaze to meet her own, Tally’s breath stops. There is so much emotion written all over her features that words just will not come.  For so long everyone has seen Sarah Alder as an unfeeling, unmoving individual, but Tally cannot help but understand suddenly the depths of emotion hiding beneath her controlled exterior. 

One tear slips free as Sarah squeezes the hands in her own once more.

“My pride nearly got you killed, and I don’t know that I can ever forgive myself for that.”

Tally’s shaking her head before she even realizes she’s moved. 

“Sarah, no. You can’t know that.”

Another tear escapes as Sarah scoffs. 

“Oh, come on, Tally.”

Tally flips her hands in Sarah’s grip and tightens her own fingers around the warm ones before Sarah can retreat.

“Don’t ‘come on,Tally’ me. You said it yourself. You have no idea how I would have reacted to linking with you. To be honest, I probably would have given up the whole thing just to have someone help you, or depleted myself and then where would we have been?” 

Sarah has made no attempt to stem the slow flow of tears as they track down her cheeks. Tally stares up at her and prays that her words, her posture - anything - can convey just exactly everything she is longing to say. 

I love you so much.

Goddess, what she would give to just say what she’s feeling right now. This jumble of words always unspoken between them is tortuous at the best of times. Despite it, Tally can see the emotion reflected back at her clearly and she squeezes Sarah’s hands once more. 

“Things happen the way they’re supposed to, and we can mitigate them somewhat, but we can’t control them. You didn’t get me injured, Sarah, you saved my life.” 

She’s never been one to be able to stand watching hurt on the face of someone she cares about. Seeing it on Sarah? All Tally wants to do is make her smile. She can’t fix what she knows Sarah must be feeling, but she can at least do that. 

She lifts one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug to mimic Sarah’s words from days ago back to her.

“I guess I should thank you for that.”

Sarah scoffs softly and pulls her hands from Tally’s soft grip. She swipes at her face as she turns away. 

“Don’t be cheeky.”

Tally smiles a genuine smile this time as she points to herself.

“Who? Me? Never.”

Sarah chuckles wetly, shaking her head softly. It takes a moment before she looks back at Tally once more. Her face is once again pinched in worry.

“I don’t know that I’ll ever get the vision of you unresponsive on the ground out of my head.” 

The confession says more than the words themselves, Tally knows. A pang of heartache fills her chest at the memories the sentiment brings. Tally feels her own eyes water involuntarily as she stares at Sarah, alive and here, standing in front of her.  

“Yeah, I may have some experience in that department.”

The Camarilla attack. 

Catching her outside the mansion. 

The ice cave.

The helicopter. 

Tally has helplessly watched Sarah Alder leave over and over again and it has never gotten easier. 

She ducks her head quickly to hide the hurt that she knows is written on her face. When she looks up into Sarah’s eyes, her words falter. A look of guilt is painted across Sarah’s face. 

Tally hates it there. She takes a deep breath and rushes her words. 

“Rae said you were fighting to get to me.”

Sarah shakes her head as if to clear the memory from her own thoughts. With a sigh, she turns to the window on the far wall. Waves of jumbled emotion waft off of her as she stares out of it. Tally watches her fist clench at her side. 

“They wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t get them to listen that it was you they needed to help. All they saw was me alive and…”

She lets her words trail off. Tally stares up at her back. Dressed in an outfit very similar to Tally’s and not her General’s coat, Tally suddenly is overcome with the sight of just how unshielded this formidable force of a woman is. 

Tally has never wanted to protect someone so fiercely in her life. 

Sarah has never been exactly demonstrative with her emotions, even if they have always been there, but she’s trying now and Tally knows this is too big of a moment to push the point. 

She opts for humor again instead. 

“I heard you threw Hamilton on her ass.”

Sarah turns fiery eyes to pin her with a raised brow and a glare. 

“That was her own fault.”

Warmth blossoms in Tally’s chest at the sight of the look and she can’t fight the genuine smile that stretches across her face at the thought of Sarah planting the woman on the ground just to get to her. 

“No doubt.”

Sarah studies her from where she stands, eyes bouncing from feature to feature for a few unspoken moments, up and down her shoulders and arms. Her feet carry her silently back towards the bed and she stops to raise a hand to Tally’s cheek. 

Something softens the pinched worry on her face and she tucks hair gently behind Tally’s ear at the last second instead. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” 

Tally’s eyes fall closed on their own accord as Sarah cups her cheek anyway. She leans into the touch without hesitation. 

Leave it to Sarah Alder to be facing the most difficult thing imaginable and still be more concerned for someone else. 

Sarah traces the contours of her cheek softly, thumb moving gently to swipe across a cheekbone. The woman is more demonstrative with her touch now they’re alone again, it seems. Now that they’re both safe. 

Tally reaches up and takes her hand.

When Tally opens her eyes, Sarah is standing inches from her face. Her gaze is intense and something inside Tally’s chest settles into place. She tilts her head up to stare directly back into her eyes.

“I promise you, I’m ok.”

With a deep breath in, she squeezes Sarah’s hand in hers. If they’re going to be open, they need to be completely open. Tally won’t let Sarah carry the weight of this alone. 

And the guilt she’s feeling is twisting her stomach in knots. With a slow, steady inhale, she tenses.

“But while we’re apologizing, I’m sorry that you have to share something with me that you don’t necessarily want to share.”

Sarah’s face is unreadable for a moment before she guides the hand that Tally is holding to lay flat against Tally’s chest. She splays her fingers there above her heart as she presses gently.

Emotions work across her features as she seems to contemplate whatever thoughts are racing through her mind. Finally, her forehead smooths and she raises her eyes to meet Tally’s once more. 

“I never said that I didn’t want to share it with you.”

Tally holds her gaze at the soft confession. Sarah looks away for a moment, but then forces her eyes back again. 

“300 years is a long time to contemplate things on your own. No one else is lasting so you learn to just trust only yourself. It’s a protection mechanism really.”

Sarah shifts her thumb back slowly and grasps the hand atop hers once more. She makes no move to remove either of them from where they are laid above Tally’s heart. 

“But someone I care about very much recently told me that to be human means to be vulnerable…”

Her voice stutters, but she pushes on. 

“I’m not good at it, I’m afraid, but I would very much like to try.” 

Tally is stunned by the raw openness of the declaration. The general notion of revealing her own feelings has shaken Tally to the core so many times over the past few months and here Sarah is bravely laying herself open, being vulnerable when Tally had begged her to do so in the woods. 

The realization strikes Tally mute for a moment. She has promised herself a hundred times already to not allow Sarah to be the only brave one in this moment. She has to tell her, even if they don’t say the words out loud. 

She has to know. 

She blows out a calming breath against the butterflies in her stomach and nods slowly.  

“I’m going to be there every step of the way, ordered or not. I want you to know that, ok? No matter what we find. No matter what happens. I’m going to be by your side.”

It’s as big of a confession as she’s ever made in her life. It hangs in the air like Work and neither of them rush to cover it this time. 

Sarah, so close, refuses to take her eyes away. A myriad of emotions seem to fight beneath the surface as she merely allows the moment to exist. 

Tally watches as she tries to swallow down whatever emotions she’s fighting, but the shaky exhale that leaves her lips lets her know she isn’t entirely successful.

“I’m frightened. Of reliving those moments. Of who I am without...”

Tally nods solemnly and tucks the hand that Sarah has pressed against her chest a little closer. She knows Sarah isn’t just talking about one thing. 

Losing her songs. 

Facing the demons of her past in her home. 

How could she not be afraid?

“That’s ok. That's also part of being human.”

She tugs gently on the hand in hers and Sarah allows herself to be guided fully forward to bump into her legs. Tally smiles gently up at her, pleased with the allowance. 

“But the flip side is having someone to lean on in those moments. And you do have that. You’re kind of stuck with me.”

The steadiness on Sarah’s face twitches and then fades into solemness slowly. Her eyes shine with a sad hopefulness as she reaches her other hand up and smooths it over Tally’s hair. Her eyes follow the movement of her hand against Tally’s head.

“It’s dangerous to make promises you don’t intend to keep, Tally.” 

Tally lets the smile slip onto her lips as she stares open hearted and serious back up into the eyes she loves so much.

“It's a good thing I never do that.”

The air is thick with words unspoken as Sarah's eyes slide back down to study her face. So much has already been said in the soft exchange and Sarah looks so beautifully human in this moment that Tally once more has the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Courage surges through her and she moves to rise slowly from the bed only to have Sarah meet her halfway. She halts mid-movement as she feels Sarah’s lips light in a soft, hesitant kiss to her forehead. 

Tally’s eyes fall closed immediately at the intimacy of the action. It draws a sigh of such relief from her soul that she feels her entire body relax. In the next moment, Sarah pulls her close and Tally instinctively sinks into her chest, her head lying above the steady thump of her heart. 

“Thank you.”

Her hand slips free without thought and she draws Sarah flush against her, arms wrapping around her waist as she merely closes her eyes. 

She can feel the deep breath that Sarah takes in against her entire body. 

The moment is perfect and they remain locked in each other’s embrace for what feels like minutes before Sarah’s voice rumbles against Tally’s ear.

“I shall let it pass that you did once promise me chocolates when we arrived here.”

Tally’s eyes pop open when the words register in her lulled brain. 

She can hear the mirth in Sarah’s voice as she continues.

“Unless you’d like to tell me what Abigail and Raelle were really doing in Salem town this afternoon?” 

She can see the mischief dancing in her features when Tally turns her head and rests her chin on the woman’s stomach. It’s not particularly comfortable, but Tally doesn’t want to let go, and Sarah doesn’t seem intent on making her. 

Tally squints one eye shut, a smile splitting her face.

“Welllll...”

With great effort, she releases her hold on Sarah’s waist and then leans back towards the pillow at the top of her bed. Sarah catches one hand as she does so, arm stretching out as Tally leans, neither of them willing to let go. 

“About that...” 

Tally extends, sliding one hand under her pillow before she tugs a box beautifully wrapped in storm blue wrappings free.

Sarah is smiling when Tally draws herself back even with her and merely holds the box out. 

“Can’t promise a woman chocolate and then not deliver.” 

Tally watches the corner of Sarah’s lip twitch in amusement as she reaches to take the package. 

“And if the ones most likely to have aided and abetted in your earlier nefarious actions happened to get an alibi out of it?”

Tally grins and shrugs a shoulder. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Sarah chuckles, turns and drops swiftly to the bed right next to Tally. Tally can feel the warmth of her pressed from ankle to shoulder. 

“Should I eat it now?”

Tally shrugs.

“Well, it’s sinfully good, so...”

Sarah shoots her a playful look. 

“Uh oh. And here you are without an ice cream for me to smash into your face.”

“Ha. Ha.”

Tally’s deadpan look makes the woman chuckle.

Sarah lifts the lid of the box to see an array of beautifully decorated chocolates inside. She hums in appreciation and thought before she extends it between them. 

“Which should I try first?” 

Tally squints down at the box in mock contemplation. The action causes Sarah to laugh softly and the sound pulls an answering smile onto Tally’s lips. She looks up into Sarah’s soft gaze once more, warmth filling her chest and the air around them.

“I say dealer's choice. You can’t lose either way.” 

Sarah holds her gaze, the humor in the moment turning to something heavier, something more precious with the intent they both know is behind the words.

She arches one brow. 

“I’ll keep that in mind." 

Sarah allows the moment to hang for a beat longer before she drops her discerning eyes to the box and chooses a chocolate randomly. Tally watches nimble fingers pluck it from the container before she lifts it and pops it into her mouth.

Her face falls when she bites into it, a small moan of pleasure at the taste filling the small space between them. Tally covers the overwhelming urge to once again kiss her by choosing a chocolate at random and shoving half of it into her mouth. Tally chews quickly, but her mind races with the one massively important thing she has to say before they set off on this mission. 

She swallows hard, stares down at the other half of the chocolate in her fingers and begins to absently pick at the stringy caramel.

“So, this mission...”

She can feel Sarah tense beside her, and she looks up quickly.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I want you to know that first thing. You can tell me what you’d like me to know when you’re ready. I just…I want you to know that I meant what I said in the woods.”

Sarah swallows the chocolate in her mouth slowly and Tally has the distinct impression that she is stalling. When Sarah speaks, she understands a bit why.

“You said a lot in the woods.”

She’s being intentionally evasive, Tally knows, so she throws caution to the wind.

“When I said you didn’t have to sacrifice yourself anymore, I meant it. Not with me.”

Tally’s words falter for a moment, and she swallows the quick lancing of panic, always so present when Sarah and her feelings are concerned. But Tally has never been a coward. It hasn’t always served her well with the woman in front of her, but somehow, she knows in her bones that this is the right thing to say in the moment when Sarah locks eyes with her.  

“I won’t push you, Sarah. I’m never going to judge or mock you for vulnerability. I want that from you...”

Tally takes a slow, deep breath in as a jumble of feelings sprawl out inside of her chest. 

“…but I also need for you to be ok. So, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that happens.”

Sarah’s words are a whisper. Her gaze has fallen to the floor once again and she doesn’t look up.

“Why?”

So quick to the point. Military precision when Tally feels like she could burst with everything unsaid inside of her at the moment.

Tally merely stares as the words claw at her throat, begging to be released. The air is heavy with so many truths shown yet unspoken. Tally has never been accused of being one short of words, but somehow she can’t bring herself to seemingly just speak them aloud. 

Sarah keeps her gaze trained on the ground for a long time. The silence is thick and prickly on Tally’s skin. The thought that Sarah is waiting for her to answer churns in her stomach and she's afraid of what she's going to blurt out in this silence. 

Finally, Sarah seems to take pity on the moment. She lifts her head and stares at the far wall before she shakes it slowly.

“I can’t promise not to do everything I can, in any situation, to save you, Tally. Even if that means putting myself in harm’s way.”

Tally’s sigh breaks free in a rush. Frustration mixing with the tight feeling of love and worry in her chest. Why can’t Sarah just let someone else protect her for once? Why can't she just let Tally do that for her?

“Why?”

Doesn’t she know that I’d do anything to protect her? Doesn’t she know by now that I…

Tally’s thoughts freeze at the look on Sarah’s face when she finally looks up.

She’s silent for a mere moment before she allows her eyes to slide across Tally’s features once again.

“I think perhaps you know why.”

Oh. 

And really, what is Tally supposed to say to that?

Tally stares for longer than is probably appropriate before shoving the other half of the chocolate into her mouth. She's trying to give her brain the space to process what they're both saying through resolutely not saying it.

Sarah smiles softly at the reaction, eyes roaming once more over Tally's flustered features. She heaves a soft sigh into the quiet of the Infirmary, pops a new chocolate into her mouth and leans her shoulder against Tally’s in silence.