Chapter 21

Severin is serious about finding his daughter.

Chapter Twenty-One

Comforting Embrace

 

            She swung over the city. Dusk was quickly fading, leaving trails of the sun’s light on the horizon. Slowly the sun sank below the horizon and disappeared, blanketing the city in complete darkness. In the sky, one could see white stars in the pitch black. Where the sun had sunk, it was a light midnight blue. But that was all that was left of the sun.

            Willow landed on the top of a building. A breeze blew back her hair and her long coat. They flapped softly in the wind, which was freezing cold. Autumn was over and winter was finally among Crescent City. How much time had passed between now and Viola’s death? Willow couldn’t remember. It had seemed like so long ago. And even though the thought of Viola hurt, it seemed to only be a dull ache in her heart when thoughts of Viola arose.

            “Am I finally healing?” Willow murmured to the wind. Her mind switched to when Severin had been testing her. The images of her mother and Viola in the mirrors before her, seemingly warm and alive once more. But they just had been illusions. They couldn’t come back, no matter how hard Willow wished it so.

            Willow bowed her head, but more tiredly than sorrowfully.

            “I cried when I saw them…he wanted to see me writhe in his grip. He wanted to kill me. He wanted me to go insane like him,” she whispered. “But…I remembered. I remembered everything.” Memories of a smiling Viola flicked past her vision…memories of her mother playing with Willow as a child. “I remembered the warmth. That’s what saved me. It made me…stronger.”

            And Willow suddenly came to a strange, but true, revelation.

            “What if…what if love is stronger than anger? I’ve never thought of it that way, but it makes weird sense. Love is full while anger and hate are empty of anything. They’re just clouded with vengeance and rage. Love is full with warmth and caring and kindness. It makes sense.”

            Willow sighed to herself, smiling at the thought of Pierce.

            “I think I’m finally healing. It may be slowly, but I’m healing. The thought of Viola and Mom don’t hurt as much as they used to…I can’t believe it.”

            Willow blinked. She felt the trouble sweeping out of her gaze. Her darkened eyes were light, if only partly. Whatever she was feeling at this moment, she knew that she could finally come to forgive herself for what happened in the past. Love was doing its job of healing her heart of all its scars and bleeding wounds. She didn’t feel empty, but full. Full of warmth, life, and maybe even something much stronger than love. Whatever it was, it gave her bounding strength, and not the empty strength she knew when she was angry. It was more. So much more.

            Willow closed her eyes and savored the peace and warmth she knew flowed through her at that very moment. It wouldn’t last forever, she knew, but she took care to take it all in when she had the chance. Willow swung down among the buildings and the city, filled with a new strength that no one could damage. She swung without any thoughts or whispered words to herself. She was confident within her every move.

            And Willow went home.

 

            Silently, Willow crawled up the ivy that led to her bedroom window. Her side didn’t ache any longer, but painfully stabbed her if she dare do something out of the question. She slipped, slick as a cat, into her room and changed out of her partly scathed Black Widow uniform and into the clothes she had been wearing earlier.

            Then, she crawled back down the ivy and onto the dark ground below. Willow had taken great care to comb out her hair and wipe her smudged face with tissues so that she wouldn’t appear suspicious to anyone. Willow decided that it was best for her to literally go over to Allister’s house and hang there if Aggie might think to call and check up on her.

             The cold winter wind swept Willow’s hair behind her, its black mass flapping around her head. She pushed it down and walked. It was incredibly silent except for a few dogs barking and the faint sounds of cars honking and roaring down the street in the near Crescent City. Wayview appeared to be deserted, though Willow knew that everyone was inside celebrating Thanksgiving and eating hearty dinners.

            That’s when Willow remembered.

            She placed a pale hand on her stomach. It was a growling lion, hungry for food.

            “Great,” Willow said to herself. “I’m starving.”

            Ravenous and partly exhausted from the encounter with her father earlier that day, Willow walked the few blocks to Al’s home. When she got there, she knocked loud on the door so the house’s inhabitants could hear her. She heard thumping footsteps rushing around and a bang somewhere. Then Allister opened the door.

            Allister looked at Willow in surprise, his eyes slightly widened.

            “Willow?”

            Willow smiled awkwardly.

            “Sorry to bug you again, but�"”

            Suddenly Al wrapped his arms around her in an oddly comforting hug. Al squeezed Willow tightly. Willow blushed furiously, hugging back.

            “I’d thought I’d never see you again,” Allister murmured through Willow’s raven hair. He stroked it gently. He pulled away, blushing as much as she was. Willow was shaking, curling and uncurling her fingers, which trembled. “Ahem…where the heck were you? You had me worried!”

            Willow shook out her ruffled black hair, smiling at Allister.

            “You were…worried about me?”

            Al looked away.

            “Yeah…”

            Willow touched her hand to Allister’s cheek and smiled softly.

            “That’s sweet of you.”

            Willow removed her hand and blinked.

            “Um…do you think I could, you know…hang here for a while? If my foster mom decides to call, that is,” she said awkwardly.

            Al gathered himself.

            “Oh…sure…yeah. Come on in. We just finished dinner.” Willow followed Allister into his house, glancing around at the living room. It was nice. “Hey, Mom! I have a friend here. You think she could hang around for a bit?”

            “Sure!” answered his mom from the kitchen.

            Al turned to Willow, grinning amiably, his smile a little crooked from the moment before.

            “So…you hungry?”

            Willow gave Allister a creepy look, smiling evilly.

            “Ravenous,” she said. Al’s slightly peeved look amused her. She laughed at him. “Relax. I wouldn’t ever eat you. But I bet you taste real good.”

            Al flushed a little. Willow shook her head and chuckled lightly.

            “Hang on a sec. I’ll see if we have anything.”

            He ducked into the kitchen. Willow sank into one of the chairs, its cushions molding against the curve of her back. She glanced around; it was a nice house, and probably just as nice as the Stravinskys’ home. Willow folded her hands and placed them in her lap. Allister came out with a plate of food for her.

            “Thanks,” she said.

            “Sure, no problem, Willow,” he replied. “My mom was happy to get it for you.”

            Willow literally tore into the leftover turkey that was on plate. She chewed the meat and swallowed it, then tearing off more meat from the bones. Al was looking at her wide-eyed. Finally, Willow wiped her mouth on a tissue and smiled up at Allister sheepishly.

            She shrugged and said, “What? I was hungry!”

            Al shook his head. He laughed at her.

            “Hungry? Seemed more like you had said before. You were ravenous!”

            Willow flushed a little, smiling and laughing along with him.

Her mind flashed back to weeks ago. She had been sad before, lingering within the grasps of complete darkness. What made her change? Why was she so happy all of a sudden? Before, she had never laughed, or smiled, in the weeks that followed Viola’s death. She felt that she had been scarred even worse by that tragic event. But, strangely, she really did seem to be healing.

                She surfaced to the present. She was happy and she would savor that for however long it lasted because Willow knew that being happy was for only so long. Before the darkness returned and shrouded her in its cloak of solitude.

            “So, how long before you think your foster mom calls?” Allister wondered.

            “I wouldn’t be surprised if she called within the next few minutes. She loves to worry about me.”

            “Willow, is she really as bad as you say she is?”

            “Well…no, actually. Both of my foster parents are really nice. They just…think I’m a rebel. Silly, huh?”

            Al shook his head.

            “No, it’s not. I’ve always thought you were kind of a rebel. So was Viola…” He sucked in a deep breath when he said her name. “…too. You both were. That’s probably why you two were so close. She was like you. She understood you, and it was the same with her.”

            “Funny. You’re actually right. We did understand each other. Even in the short time I knew her. She made me feel…like I belonged. She, and you, opened me up.”

            Willow rose her head, which had been bowed as she thought of Viola.

            “You think that’s why it hurt so much to lose her?”

            “Yeah,” Al agreed. “Hey…are you feeling better about Viola?”

            “It still hurts, but…not nearly as much as it used to. I mean, the pain’s still there and everything, but I’m healing, you know?”

            “Yeah. I know.”

            There was silence for a few minutes. They both thought about Viola. A tear slipped quickly down Willow’s cheek. Allister sighed. They looked at each other.

            “About what I told you before on the phone?”

            “It’s okay,” Willow said softly. “I think I already kinda knew.”

            “I wish we could be together, Willow. I really do.”

            “Allister, you know I love you, don’t you?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Then I think that’s enough. I can never be with you. We both know that. But I’ll love you in every way. I still care for you, but there’s…there’s�"”

            “Somebody else. I know. You’ve told me.”

            “You understand, right?”

            “It hurts…but I do, yeah.”

            “Okay.”

            Willow smiled sadly up at Allister, who was only a few inches taller than she was. He smiled back.

            Though Willow was sure that Allister understood, she still felt his disappointment, and it made her feel a little guilty for rejecting him. It was hard for both Willow and Al. But they both understood that they could never be together, no matter how much they loved each other. They would always remain friends. They both knew that’s what Viola would want.

 

_____

 

            “What happened?”

            Cain came forward, speaking for his men.

            “Sir, ve don’t know vhat happened. My men�"”

            “YOUR MEN ARE INCOMPETENT!” barked Severin. “I ordered you to annihilate Willow and Pierce Stevens. And what do I come back to? Finding out that they escaped!”

            Cain was taken aback for a moment, but quickly gathered himself.

            “Sir, I ask for another chance. I’m--”

            “That was your chance. And you blew it! I gave you an order, and I expected it to be carried out perfectly.” Severin rose from his seat and walked in front of Cain. His face was greatly enraged. “And, you know what happens to those who can’t carry out orders properly?”

            Cain’s face was blank. Severin smiled grimly and let out a bitter chuckle. He reached behind his back and picked something off of his desk. Before Cain could react in any which way, Severin plunged a letter opener knife into Cain’s stomach.

            Cain’s face became contorted in a mix of pain and surprise. Blood dribbled down the side of his mouth and onto the burgundy carpet where it disappeared. Severin strengthened his grip on the letter opener and pulled it out with force. Cain fell wordlessly onto the floor face forward. A pool of dark red blood puddled around his stomach and stained the floor. The man’s chest heaved a groan and last breath before he died. His body lay there; Severin looked down upon it.

            “They pay,” he hissed.

            Severin smiled at the body and glanced up at Cain’s men.

            “Let this be a lesson to you,” he spoke. Severin twirled the bloodstained letter knife in his fingers. “Obey me or you will pay. Now clean up this mess and go.”

            The men followed his orders, looking seemingly troubled as they carried Cain’s body out the doors and down the hall. Severin twirled the knife around in both hands. He frowned deeply.

            “Stupid man. Can’t even kill ridiculous little children.” Severin sighed. He picked up the knife and ran a finger along its sharp blade. Then, he rammed its point down into the oak desk. The knife erected straight in the air, not even moving. “Guess I’ll have to do it myself.”

 

_____

 

            “You should call,” said Michael stiffly, flipping through the channels on the TV. The sound was low, so anything that somebody said on the TV was inaudible.

            Agatha was in the kitchen, cleaning up dishes and pans left over from earlier in the evening. She rinsed the dishes serenely. Their guests had left hours before; it was now nine o’clock; they had left at six thirty, full and happy. Aggie scrubbed the leftover crumbs and other things from the pans, making sure to get it all off before placing everything into the dishwasher. Her yellow plastic gloves were already soaked from scrubbing many other dishes that had been used.

            “Mike…why do you have to be so cruel to Willow?” Agatha asked bravely.

            “She’s a troublemaker. You know how many times I’ve caught her outside, sniffing around the bushes? Lots. And being caught by the police was even worse. Embarrassing, it was.”

            “It’s not her fault she’s…troubled,” she said, throwing down her sponge and storming over to her husband. She narrowed her eyes at him. “She’s been through so much. How can you even talk that way?”

            Michael gently placed the remote to the TV down and glanced up at his angered wife, standing.

            “She’s gone to great lengths so get herself into trouble. It’s doesn’t help that she’s also coming home late at night. God knows where she’s been! Doing drugs, partying…any one of those things. You know how dangerous Crescent City is lately? Fatal!” Michael softened his eyes. “I’m only trying my best to look out for Willow.”

            Aggie frowned sadly. She gazed down at the ground. She wrung the fingers of her gloves together nervously. She knew what had happened to Willow, even if she didn’t have all the details. Both Michael and Agatha knew that Willow’s mother had died when Willow was only six. She had been murdered; the reason for her murder remained unknown, especially to the police who had searched and searched but had come up with nothing.

            “I know you are,” she said softly. A tear fell down her cheek. “After what happened to Willow’s mother…I’m not surprised the least that Willow’s withdrawn.”

            Mike pulled Aggie into a comforting hug.

            “And I know…that you’re just trying to protect her from what happened to…to Corrie.”

            Mike nodded, thinking of his little girl, smiling. The sun lighted up her bright face and her smile was radiant. The image was torn away by another picture. This was one was of Corrie lying in a hospital bed, her monitor on a single, monotone beep. The fatal beep that had announced her death. And there had been nothing that the doctors could have done from preventing her major blood loss.

            “I remember…”

            Aggie pulled away and wiped her eyes on her arm.

            “I’ll call Willow and see if she’s ready to come home yet, okay?”

            Mike nodded again. He sat down and turned off the TV. He grabbed a silver-framed photo of a young girl, Corinne, off of a table and looked at her innocent face. She had died in a car accident. Her friend, who had been driving, had survived; Corrie, unfortunately, hadn’t been as lucky.

            Agatha pulled off her plastic gloves and slapped them down beside the sink. She grabbed the cordless phone above the microwave out of its cradle and flipped to the last number that she had called. She pressed “Talk” and the phone dialed the Waterman’s house number automatically. She waited patiently as the phone rang on the other end. Someone picked it up on the other end.

            “This is the Waterman household. Who may I ask is calling?”

            “I’m Willow’s guardian, Agatha Stravinsky. Is Willow there?”

            “Oh, you’re Willow’s guardian? So nice to finally meet you, even if it is over the phone. I’m Gwen Waterman, Allister’s mother.”

            Agatha laughed. “Nice to meet you as well, Gwen.”

            “Allister’s told me a little about Willow. Tragic thing what happened to Viola Whitmore, isn’t it?”

            “Yes…really sad.”

            There was a grave silence on both ends.

            “So…” Agatha said, breaking the silence, “may I speak to Willow? Or is she…busy?”

            “No, no, not at all. The kids are just out in the living room, talking. Nothing obscene.” Agatha heard, faintly, on the other end Gwen call Willow over. “She wants to talk to you, Willow,” Gwen said softly.

            Somebody took the phone and breathed into it, causing a little static to erupt.

            “Aggie?”

            “Hi, Willow. Are you having fun over there?”

            “Somewhat. What do you want?”

            Gets straight to the point, that Willow, thought Agatha amusingly.

            “Are you ready to come home or not? Because you can stay longer if you like.”

            “Actually,” considered Willow, “I think I’ll come home. I’m exhausted.”

            Agatha smiled and said, “Okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

            “Okay. No rush.”

            They both hung up. Aggie dried her damp hands on a towel and grabbed the keys to her silver Echo. She threw a jacket over her shoulders and turned to Michael.

            “I’m gonna pick up Willow from her friend’s.”

            Michael looked up, a solemn look gleaming in his eyes. He nodded slowly and reverted his head back to the way it was before, gazing down at his dead daughter’s photo. A pang of sympathy struck Agatha’s heart. Before she exited through the front door, she wrapped her arms around her husband’s shoulders and pecked him gently on the cheek. She then pressed her cheek against his own and left out the door, looking back at him before she drove off into the night to get Willow.

 

_____

 

            Willow sent down the phone back in its cradle and returned to the living room. Allister looked at Willow expectantly, his eyebrows raised.

            “You’re going,” he said quietly.

            “Yeah,” Willow said. She gave him a tight, forced smile. “Hey…thanks for letting me hang here for a while. You’re a great friend.”

            Willow then wrapped her arms around him and gave him a light hug. Allister made it more real by hugging back, his returned embrace with more of a squeeze then Willow’s. Willow squeezed back. Al rested his chin briefly atop Willow’s, then pulled away.

            “You’re a great friend, too, Will,” he replied.

            “I know.”

            Then Willow sat down in one of the chairs in the living room. For the remainder of the time, she was dead silent and didn’t speak nor stare at Al. Allister kept his eyes trained on Willow, never moving them. This silence wasn’t awkward, yet excepting and a little sad of what was to come and what was to never be. They both knew what was to never be. As strong as their love was for each other, Willow’s love for Pierce shone even stronger and truer than hers for Allister.

            Willow wasn’t going to cry over this because it wasn’t worth wasting tears on. But as she closed her eyes and shut them tightly, a bitter disappointment resonated through her chest and pounded her soul hard. She released a sigh that had wanted to escape for one long minute from the prison of her lungs. Al, too, was as disappointed as Willow, but he hid it and reverted his eyes to the wall, where he stared hard and long.

            The roar of a faint engine and the slamming of a car door interrupted both their thoughts. Willow rose from her seat, followed by Allister. She trudged across the dark gray carpeting and towards the windows that looked out upon the outside from the living room. She raised the shades a little and glanced out. She saw Agatha walking from the curb where her car was and over to the house’s front door.

            Aggie climbed up what few stone steps there were and knocked on the door. Allister went over to the door and answered it.

            “Hi, I’m Willow’s guardian is Willow�"?”

            “Yeah, I’m here,” Willow answered for Allister, stepping forward.

            Agatha smiled widely.

            “Willow…did you have fun?”

            Willow smiled weakly and nodded.

            Agatha nodded back and said, “That’s good.”

            Then she noticed Allister and put out her hand.

            “I’m Agatha Stravinsky,” she said, Allister taking her hand and shaking it amiably. “So nice to finally meet you Allister.”

            “You, too, Mrs. Stravinsky,” Allister replied back rather stiffly. He looked uncomfortable.

            Agatha seemed to sense this and said, “I suppose we’ll leave now, Willow.”

            “Okay,” Willow said meekly.

            Willow followed Agatha out the door, glancing briefly back at Al with grateful and sad eyes. Allister nodded his head and closed the door, disappearing into his own house.

            It was quiet in Agatha’s car. The vehicle rumbled through the streets, which were empty except for a few scarce cars. But, besides that, everyone was either in their homes or asleep.

            “What do you want for Christmas?” Agatha suddenly asked out of nowhere.

            “Uh, well…”

            Truthfully, Willow hadn’t thought about this. She hadn’t thought about it at all. The thought of Christmas being only a month away reminded her just how much time had passed between now and the death of Viola so many long weeks ago.

            “Come on, there’s got to be something. I’m going shopping early tomorrow morning and I wanna know what you want.”

            Willow furrowed her brow, thinking, What I want can’t be bought.

            Instead of speaking, Willow shrugged and slumped farther down into her seat. Aggie glanced at her and frowned.

            “Spit it out. I know you want something, but you’re too modest to say anything about it.”

            Willow reluctantly looked at Aggie, who gave her an encouraging look that said “I’ll listen patiently to you.” Willow sighed.

            “I want two things, but you can’t buy them.”

            Aggie listened and nodded her head.

            “I know what you mean, Willow. I understand. You want your mom and your best friend to be here, but you can’t have them. It’s painful, I know. But remember about what I said before about not hiding away from the world forever. You have to face the truth and heal.”

            “I am healing,” Willow said. “I’ve noticed that. It still hurts.”

            “It’s gonna do that.”

            “I know. But it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. I’m actually feeling…a lot happier lately.”

            “That’s great,” Aggie murmured sincerely, her eyes now on the road.

            Willow scanned Agatha’s face and saw that she was telling her the truth. It was great.

            “Yeah, I know…Isn’t it?”

            Aggie nodded, agreeing with her. But both she and Willow remained unsmiling at the fact. Willow nodded too and turned away to look out the window. She allowed the heat to prickle at her skin, making her uncomfortable. She scratched at her arms. She looked deeply out the window, lost in thought. The night was dark and haunting. Willow knew that there was much to fear from what lingered within the darkness, but the darkness itself she couldn’t fear. Because the only reason people feared it was simply the unknown. You never knew what awaited you within the unknown.

            And that’s what risks are for, Willow thought serenely.

            She leaned back into the comfortable seat and closed her eyes. A yawn crept up behind her. Willow stretched her tired and sore muscles. The day had taken its toll on her, physically and emotionally.

            “What awaits me in the future?” Willow murmured to herself.

            She opened her eyes. The car slowed down and backed into the driveway of the Stravinsky home. But not her home. Never her home. She may live there, but she didn’t have her heart in the place. Her home was gone. She was for so long, and still, lost and trying to find her way. She needed another home, but it wasn’t theirs.

            Agatha brought the car to a stop and grabbed her key out of the ignition. The engine faded and disappeared. Agatha and Willow exited the car and walked up to the house and through the front door.

            Willow was welcomed by a burst of warmth. The night had been a numbing cold. It had raised goose bumps on her flesh. Agatha removed her coat and hung it up on a coat hanger that was besides the door. Agatha briefly stopped and stroked her husband’s hair before she flipped the light on in the kitchen and turned on the faucet to wash the dishes and pans that had piled up. Willow looked at her foster father and sympathy entered his eyes. His shoulders were shaking a little and his head was bowed over a picture. He sat on the edge of his seat and wept softly.

            She walked over to him and stood besides his chair. Not knowing what to do, she awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder.

            “I know that I may not…be the best person. I know I can’t replace your daughter,” Willow said softly. “But I will be the best for you. I’ll be myself. That’s all I can promise.”

            Michael wiped his face with a tissue and looked up at Willow. He did the last thing she would have suspected from him. He smiled at her and pulled her down into a comforting hug. It was really awkward for Willow at first, but she gradually settled in and hugged him back.

            “That’s all I ask,” Mike said in return.

            Both foster parent and child pulled away from the hug. Willow smiled sadly at him. She got up from the floor and trudged up the stairs. She sat on her bed and closed her eyes. She thought of everything. She thought of her mother’s smiling face, Viola’s smiling face. She remembered everything, letting the memories and the old feeling of euphoria to envelope her in its comforting embrace.

            Willow tore off her clothes and settled into her bed. She didn’t pray to anyone, not even to God.

            “I hope that things, with me, will be at least better,” Willow whispered to the ceiling. “If not perfect, just better. Everything. I swear with me that this city, and the people I love…everything will be better for them.”

            Then, with that, Willow closed her eyes and gave in to the seductive call of sleep.

Author's Note

Yes, it's getting darker. Isn't it? Severin is quite a dark villain.
Give me your opinion on what you think of the story so far.
Do the troubles Willow face seem full of realistic emotion? What do you think of Pierce? How do you view Willow's relationship with Allister?