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Just A Dream

Summary:

This couldn't be happening to her...not on her wedding day. Raelle had promised her forever, she wouldn't break that...right?

Notes:

This hit me from iTunes random playlists. It is a fair amount of angst, but bear with me. I won't keep them separated...or would I? Thank you to Scarromanoff for beta-ing on the fly. This is a good warmup for me to work on the last chapter of the Hardest Thing, which I will complete over my winter shutdown. Enjoy! Kudos and comments are encouraged, in fact I thrive on them!

TW-depictions of blood and talk about a character death

Work Text:

Scylla takes a deep breath as she adjusts the bodice of the white dress she was wearing, using the mirror as a guide to make sure not too much was shown. She had tried to discourage Raelle against her wearing white, had even pointed out that what they did the morning they went dress shopping was not very virginal, but Raelle had simply chuckled with that husky voice of hers and nuzzled into her neck from behind. After wrapping her arms around Scylla and entwining their hands against the brunette’s waist, she had told her that if she had to wear her dress uniform, then Scylla was going to be in white.

And it was certainly what she could coin as a dream dress. It was floor length and made of chiffon, satin, and lace, the lace woven like small flowers through the strapless bodice with crystal woven in repetitions of the infinity symbol around her waist. It was, in a word, stunning.

A quick rapping against the door to the dressing room startles her out of her memories. Scylla quickly turns around and calls out, “Come in!” She tries to force a smile, but it certainly comes across more nervous than she intends it to as Edwin pops his head in. Her future father-in-law is dressed smartly in a charcoal suit (truth be told, the only suit he owns), and an awe-struck look overtakes his face as he slowly enters the room.

“Wow, Raelle is not going to be able to take her eyes off of you when she sees you,” Edwin encourages as he moves forward and takes her hands in his.

Scylla is reassured by the reassuring squeeze he gives them.

“Speaking of, is she here yet?”

Edwin shakes his head in the negative, “No, but that Fixer thing took her by surprise. And you know how she is-if someone is hurt and she thinks she can help, she’s gonna be runnin’. But you can bet she’s gonna be runnin’ double that to make sure she gets back here. Now, do you have everything? I see you’ve got her Bower’s foot, so there’s the blue covered.”

The brunette nods, “I have the six pence in my shoe from one of Willa’s tours she let me borrow, and my mother’s pearls,” Scylla reaches to the aforementioned pearls around her neck, which ended in a charm with the Ramshorn crest-an addition Raelle had given her for Winter Solstice the previous year. It hadn’t been the most traditional item to propose with, but you couldn’t really call her future wife traditional. And Scylla wouldn’t have her any other way.

It was two weeks after the day she turned eighteen
All dressed in white
Going to the church that night
She had his box of letters in the passenger seat
Sixpence in a shoe, something borrowed, something blue
And when the church doors opened up wide

Edwin looks off to the side and sees the veil still resting on the chair, “Ah, but we cannot forget the pièce de résistance.” He moves to retrieve it and she can’t help but grin when he over emphasizes his words. Raelle does the same whenever she attempts what she terms as “fancy words.” She had even pronounced hors d'oeuvres as “hore’s da-vores.”

Her future father-in-law moves behind her and raises his arms to gently secure the comb attached to the veil into the simple updo that allows her curls to trail to her shoulders, reaching to lift the simple veil over her head so that it obscures her face.

“Shall we?” Edwin asks as he lends her his arm.

Scylla nods and takes his arm as they slowly begin to leave the room, stopping briefly to retrieve the bouquet from the table. It’s a bit unique, the ‘roses’ actually folded from letters that Scylla and Raelle had exchanged during her deployments against the Camarilla. Scylla had been relegated to assisting Izadora at Fort Salem, the military not wanting to trust a Spree agent with her history to the field.

These letters are how they began to reconcile and air their problems, how they grew their relationship. These letters are everything.

She put her veil down
Trying to hide the tears
Oh, she just couldn't believe it
She heard the trumpets from the military band
And the flowers fell out of her hands

As they begin to make their way through the hallway, Scylla can hear the military band in the distance warming up.

She takes a slow breath and turns her head to see Edwin smiling at her. She smiles in return, more confidently than before. Looking forward, that smile begins to waver at what she sees at the end of the hall.

Anacostia, who is supposed to be walking her down the aisle and giving her away, does not have the easy smile she did earlier to make sure the Junior Matrimonialist had everything well in hand. No, now she is seeing the drill sergeant of old, face drawn and grim. She is listening attentively to whatever Abigail and Tally are telling her.

As they begin to walk closer and the trio pick up on the clicks of Scylla’s heels, Abigail and Tally turn and Scylla is able to take in their faces.

Baby why'd you leave me
Why'd you have to go?
I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
I can't even breathe

Abigail has clearly shut down, a vacant look in her eyes as if she isn’t registering anything of her surroundings. Her uniform jacket is unbuttoned, but that’s not terribly unreasonable. The ceremony hasn’t started yet, Scylla tries to reassure herself.

Tally though…

Tally has never had a good poker face. Scylla’s arm tightens around Edwin’s arm as she takes in the tear tracks on the red head’s cheeks. The most worrying sign is the blood on her uniform jacket and dirt around her knees.
The world around her narrows as she hears a sudden rushing noise in her ears, as if she is drowning and Posiden himself is swallowing her.

She doesn’t even realize her knees have hit the ground until Anacostia is in front of her with her hands on her shoulders, trying to hold her up.

“She...sh-she’s not going to make it in time...is she?” Scylla asks as emotion floods her entire being. She barely registers Tally and Abigail kneeling on either side of her, tears beginning to make their way down her face.

It's like I'm looking from a distance
Standing in the background
Everybody's saying, "He's not coming home now."
This can't be happening to me

Anacostia shakes her head, “It was...a trap by a remaining Camarilla cell. It was bad intelligence, she thought she was just going to help with a training exercise gone wrong. The cell had trapped them and forced them to send a message, asking for aid. They ambushed her and the others...no one survived. Tally and Abigail had followed up after not hearing anything and found her...I am so sorry, Scylla.”

This is just a dream

There is no way this could be happening. Scylla shakes her head back and forth, refusing to believe what her mentor was saying, “No, sh-she promised me forever, she wouldn’t have let this happen. It’s-it has to be a trick, she has to still be out there.” Refusing to believe what she is saying, Scylla turns to Tally, “Please Tally, you have to find her. We waited this long to make sure this wouldn’t happen-we waited an entire year, when I would have married her last year-Raelle wouldn’t have let this happen-you have to find her. Please!”

Scylla refuses to accept what they’re trying to tell her, and she stares pleadingly at Tally. The brunette's breaths are shaky as she pleads with the knower to believe her, to understand that Raelle wouldn’t have let this happen. The redhead shakes her head as the tears continue to travel down their faces.

“I am so sorry, Scylla,” is all Tally can say as she tries to make Scylla understand.

The preacher man said, "Let us bow our heads and pray.
Lord please lift his soul, and heal this hurt."
Then the congregation all stood up and
Sang the saddest song that she ever heard
Then they handed her a folded up flag
And she held on to all she had left of him
Oh, and what could have been

Scylla’s head continues to shake as she refuses to accept the truth. She goes to grasp Tally’s jacket, to shake some sense into her, but her hands falter as they come into contact with a wet shirt. She looks down. There’s blood on her shirt. Raelle’s blood.

She stumbles as she jumps to her feet and begins running for the door, her bouquet forgotten as she tries to escape the reality she is being confronted with.

A reality without Raelle in it.

As she bursts through the door to where the ceremony is...was going to be held, she is overcome by the brightness. How can the sun shine when Raelle can’t anymore?

As Scylla’s other senses catch up with her, she is overwhelmed with the sound surrounding her. She looks to where her guests are, standing to the side and originally prepared to march the nautilus spiral. It takes her a moment to realize that all the witches in the group are singing. The seed of mourning. A very low seed, just above the range of human hearing, it follows a similar pattern to the howl of a wolf, gradually rising and then falling, before rising again. It doesn’t necessarily have an ending or a beginning, it's continuous.

And then the guns rang one last shot
And it felt like a bullet in her heart

Scylla begins to feel her chest rise and fall at a more rapid pace, and vaguely recognizes that she is going into shock. She tries to take in everything around her.

Baby, why'd you leave me

Izadora is standing with Willa, her hands on her old friend’s shoulders and trying to console her.

Why'd you have to go?

The Junior Matrimonialist is staring at her with pity in her eyes, the ropes that Scylla and Raelle had braided themselves on the table in front of her. They had been trying to fall into older traditions, the ropes symbolizing promises they were making each other.

I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
And now they would never be able to fulfill them.
I can't even breathe

Scylla could see black spots closing in.

It's like I'm looking from a distance

She blinks to clear her vision and looks away from the pitying looks. When she feels the spots begin to clear, she is startled by what she sees.

Standing in the background

Raelle, in her pristine dress uniform. Pants pressed. Buttons and shoes shining. Her recently attained 2nd Lieutenant rank showing proudly. Her braids tight and neat. All of that pales to the smile on her face. That crooked one that distorts her scar and causes her eyes to crinkle. The smile that is only for Scylla.

Everybody's saying, "He's not coming home now."

She tries not to blink, knowing that as soon as she does, Raelle will be gone.

This can't be happening to me

The choice is taken from her as she feels a hand on her shoulder and startles. A sob chokes her as she instinctively twists to see Anacostia standing there.

This is just a dream

She turns back.

Ooo oh Baby, why'd you leave me

And Raelle is gone.

Why'd you have to go?

Make up running she twists and buries her face into her mentor’s chest. If she had known this would have been the result, she’s not sure she would have ever left that dungeon under Fort Salem. That overwhelming brightness would surely be better than this overwhelming darkness.

I was counting on forever, now I'll never know
Oh, I'll never know
It's like I'm looking from a distance

The same darkness from when Anacostia delivered similar news the first time, after China. But the pain had been different then. She had thought Raelle was lost to her, that she would never forgive Scylla for lying to her. But she did.

Sobs continue to rip through her as her tears soak Anacostia’s jacket.

“We were going to have forever, ‘Costia. Why did they have to take her from me again?” She tightens her grasp on the jacket, nails digging in to the point of causing pain where they met her palm, knuckles shaking.

Standing in the background
Everybody's saying, "He's not coming home now."

Anacostia tightens her grip on Scylla, trying to communicate as much care as she can. But she knows Scylla won’t feel it.

This can't be happening to me
This is just a dream

“This can’t be happening,” Scylla whimpers.
Oh, this is just a dream

“I am so sorry Scylla,” Anacostia murmurs into the brunette’s hair.

“We were supposed to have forever,” Scylla continues to whisper, feeling the darkness closing in.

Just a dream

“Forever...is just a dream…”

Yeah, yeah

.

..

..

.S…

….Scyl…..

...Scyl…..la...wa...up...baby…

“Scylla? Baby? Come on, wake up baby…”

The brunette startles awake as she tries to take in her surroundings.

“It’s ok, baby, it’s ok. It was just a dream, come back to me baby…”

Scylla registers the hands holding her face, but she’s afraid to open her eyes.

“Come on baby, go ahead and tell me five things you feel,” the raspy voice continues.

The brunette startles as she registers the voice, but is still afraid to open her eyes...afraid this too is part of the dream and that she is unable to register what is real.

Scylla licks her chapped lips, “Th-the sheets,” she feels a smiling kiss against her forehead, “your hands...your lips...the air from the hea-heater..and...ummm..” she trails off as she feels the darkness close in again.

“You’ve got this hun. One more thing you can feel, then four things you can smell,” the voice encourages her.

The brunette nods, “My bracelet. Smell...laundry detergent, my shampoo, the lingering smoke from the fire last night,” she takes a stronger whiff and can’t help the small smile that comes to her face, “and the terrible cologne your father gave you.”

The husky voice laughs, though it has a bit of a choked hint to it, “Now, you know you like it. Ok, three things you can hear.”

Scylla tries to focus in, “The owl in the back yard,...the toilet you still haven’t fixed, and Artemis snoring at the foot of the bed.” Artemis being the 2 year old Irish Wolfhound that Raelle had INSISTED wouldn’t get larger than a hundred pounds...Artemis was now 130 pounds and STILL growing.

The hands holding her face move to her waist and go to pull her back to rest against a solid body.

“And two things you can taste?” the voice mumbles as it moves to gently run it’s hand up and down Scylla’s back.

Scylla feels her heart rate gradually declining and her breathing returning to normal. Her tongue peaks out to wet her lips, “My chapstick,” her nose nuzzles down in search of skin. When she finds it, she slowly kisses the area, allowing the warmth she meets to pass through her, “and you.”

A soft kiss to her hair, “And one thing you can see?”

She finally opens her eyes, relief flooding through her at what she sees.

“Your eyes,” she whispers.

Raelle’s crooked smile is so much better in real life than in the dream, “That must have been some dream. You haven’t had one like that in a while.”

Scylla moves forward, pressing a quick kiss to Raelle’s lips, just enough to fully reassure herself that she was real. Pulling back, she nuzzles back into her fiancée, “It’s probably just nerves, but it was definitely a bad one. It was our wedding day but...you…” she trails off.

Raelle tightens her arm around her, “Don’t worry, baby, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I’ll be here forever.”

The brunette allows that bad cologne to invade her senses, Raelle’s warmth enveloping her with her love, “Let’s not worry about forever..let’s worry about today, and then we can worry about tomorrow...and then you’ll be Mrs. Ramshorn-Collar.” A grin spreads across her face as the body beneath her shakes with laughter.

“You mean Mrs. Collar-Ramshorn.”

Scylla sighs, “We’ll worry about that tomorrow…”

Notes:
Song Carrie Underwood : Just A Dream..which doesn't belong to me, nor does Motherland: Fort Salem