Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Don’t get me wrong,” Tucker says, currently in the middle of stuffing his face with pizza. Church watches Niner and Wash from the corner of his eye, who are quietly making bets on if Tucker will choke or not on the slice. “I’m not knocking the free food and endless supply of knockoff candy. But there has to be cooler stuff that you can do with magic.”

“Nothing’s cooler than free food,” Church says.

Connie raises an eyebrow. “Carolina let us fly on broomsticks.”

Tucker points at her and then at Church with enough force that the gesture feels like an accusation.

Carolina looks amused as Church rolls his eyes. When he decided to tell Caboose and Tucker the truth, he hadn’t realized Tucker was going to be so annoying about magic. Especially now that it’s summer vacation and he’s not distracted by orchestra practice and finals.

“I’m just saying, we could go to the moon! Or you could turn us eighteen and we could--”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Church says. “Pass.”

“I would like to visit the moon,” Sheila says thoughtfully. “As long as we do not disturb any historical sites.”

Carolina and Church exchange a look. There’s no magic involved, but it’s still as though a silent conversation takes place in those few seconds, one in which they both agree not to tell Sheila about Mars and how witches have turned it into a resort. That won’t be a fun conversation.

Then Caboose sighs.

It’s a deep, long sigh.

Church turns to see that Caboose is staring out the window, a frown on his face. It’s only now that Church realizes how weirdly quiet Caboose has been since he showed up to the brownstone. He barely smiled even when Sheila arrived.

Sheila’s giving Caboose a concerned look. Actually, pretty much everyone is, though Connie seems more curious than worried. “Caboose, is something the matter?”

Tucker's sitting on the ground, but now he twists and pokes at Caboose's knee with a finger. “Dude, what's up?”

There's a second where Caboose chews on his lip. Then he sighs another, somehow even longer sigh.

“It’s Freckles.”

Church sits up straighter. Alarm twists his stomach. Crap, how long do dogs live? Not long at all, even to a mortal. He squints worriedly at Caboose. “Uh, what about him? Is he sick or he, uh-- if it’s, uh, the second thing Carolina and I can’t do anything, magic can’t, uh--” He snaps his mouth shut as Caboose blinks at him.

“Freckles isn’t sick. We checked and the vet said so. But he doesn’t want to play and he seems sad. He just keeps laying around and sighing.” As though to demonstrate, Caboose sighs again. He adds mournfully, “I just want to know what’s wrong.”

“Oh,” Church says. He exchanges another look with Carolina, who grimaces and shrugs. “We could….” He tries to think of a spell that would be useful.

He’s still thinking when Wash says, “Is there a spell so Caboose can talk to him?”

Caboose looks confused. “I already talk to Freckles.”

“Yeah,” Wash agrees. “I meant more like some magic where you can both understand each other.”

Caboose’s eyes go wide. Wash yelps in surprise as Caboose dives off the bed and hugs him. “That. Is. The. Best. Idea.”

“I would’ve come up with that in a minute,” Church mutters.

“Hey, if Caboose gets to talk to animals, I want to talk to animals,” Niner declares. “Let me have one last cool magic thing before I go to soccer camp and you losers start doing fun magic without me.”

“Honestly, being able to go and talk to the animals at the shelter would be awesome,” Wash says, sounding a little breathless as Caboose finally stops hugging him. “I’d be in.”

Carolina looks thoughtful. “There’s probably an animal talking spell in our spellbooks.”

“Probably,” Church says, watching Caboose beam at Wash. He summons his spellbook with a wave of his finger, earning a half-impressed grin from Tucker and a slight widening of eyes from Sheila. He starts flipping through the pages to the index.

He spots the Animal Speech option, but then another entry in the index catches his eye. He looks up and grins. So much for Wash’s great idea. Church has an even better one. “We could talk to Freckles as boring humans. Or we could be animals.”

“That seems a little complicated,” Carolina says, giving him a look, but her protest is lost under Niner’s excited, “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Do we get to choose the animal? I want to be a honey badger.”

Church flips to the spell. He reads over it. It doesn’t look that complicated. He’ll have to borrow some ingredients from Kimball’s supply closet, but he’ll pay her back. He shakes his head. “Nah, looks like you become ‘whatever animal reflects your heart’ or something.”

“So a honey badger,” says Niner, grinning.

Wash squints at her. “Aren’t they vicious?”

“Yeah,” Niner says, still grinning.

Caboose scrambles to his feet. “I’ll go get Freckles!”

When Caboose turns towards him, Tucker huffs out a resigned breath. “Yeah, I’ll drive. Just keep him in the back. I don’t want to crash because his huge head is blocking the road.”

“Church,” Carolina says, still giving him a look. “Are you sure?”

Church grins at her. “What could go wrong?”

“You’re cleaning up afterwards,” Carolina says dryly as Church draws a ritual circle in chalk on her floor. She’s still got her reservations. Even if Kimball and Grey aren’t here, it still feels like super flashy magic to throw around when she and Church haven’t exactly told them about telling their circle of close friends they’re witches.

He grins over his shoulder at her. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Now this is what I’m talking about,” Tucker says. “This is cool.”

“Yeah,” Caboose says fervently, his fingers tangled in Freckles’ thick fur as the dog leans against his knee and sighs, looking as dejected as a dog can possibly be. No wonder Caboose has been worried.

Church straightens, brushing the purple chalk from his hands. “Okay, someone hand me the talon and the tooth.”

Niner gets to them first, grinning as she hefts the tiger’s tooth and the hawk’s talon in her hand. She makes a gesture like she’s going to throw it, and snickers as Church instinctively starts flailing. “Yeah, dude, I know better.” She leans carefully over the ritual circle and hands them to him.

Church scowls at her for a second, face slightly flushed. Then he sets the talon and the tooth down in the center of the circle. He steps into one of the miniature circles he’s drawn within the ritual circle. There’s one for everyone. He looks around. “Caboose, can you tell Freckles to stay? Everybody needs to step into one of the circles.”

Wash takes a step towards one and then rolls his eyes as Church adds quickly, “Don’t mess up the chalk.”

Caboose bends down so that he’s looking directly into Freckles’ eyes, just upside down. “Freckles, stay,” he says solemnly, earning a slight pricking of ears and another huffing sigh. He gives Freckles one more pat on the head and then stands, stepping carefully into one of the circles.

“Let’s do this,” Niner says with a grin. She hops into hers, making Church wince. “Can’t wait to be a honey badger.”

Carolina joins last, closest to Church so that she can squint again at his spellbook. The spell does look pretty simple despite the range of ingredients. Still, there’s probably easier ways to find out why Freckles is so sad.

Even as she rereads the spell one last time, Church points his finger and magically lights the twelve beeswax candles situated around the circle. The flames pulse a strange mixture of red and blue flame, some magical effect from the Other Realm hives.

“Right,” Church says, looking pleased with himself. He pauses for another second, clearly drinking in the anticipation and the huge, hopeful smile Caboose directs towards him. Then he lifts his hands with a dramatic flourish and recites the spell.

“Tooth and claw, fur and fin, let us be the animals we are within.”

Blue magic sparks at the tip of his finger and then splits into smaller sparks that streak towards everyone in the group. When the one headed towards Carolina reaches her, she doesn’t blink as it strikes her between the eyes, distracted by the way the spell had sounded wrong, why had it sounded--

Itchiness sweeps over her, such a powerful, all-encompassing sensation that now she does blink and almost misses the disorienting feeling of half-shrinking, half-falling to the ground.

When she opens her eyes again, it’s to the sight of a bunch of other animals, all wearing startled expressions. There’s a cat, an enormous dog, a hawk, a raccoon, a cockatoo, and a large turtle.

Carolina blinks and does a headcount. Yeah, someone’s missing.

The cockatoo hops and spins in place, almost falling over. It flaps its wings and squawks in a familiar voice, “Crap, I can’t see what I am. I’m some cool bird, right? I bet I’m something cool.”

“You’re a cockatoo,” the raccoon tells Tucker in Connie’s voice, the smile that’s on her face in her voice as well.

“What?” Tucker screeches. He spins in another circle, head twisting, trying to get a better look at himself. “That can’t be right, I--”

“Someone’s missing,” Carolina says, scanning the group.

“No one’s missing,” a tiny, squeaky voice protests. “I did the spell perfectly-- wait, is that my voice?”

There’s movement in the fur of the giant dog, who’s obviously Caboose even before he barks and says excitedly, “Church? Where are you? We can talk to Freckles now!”

“I’m right here,” Church says as the fur shifts and the smallest kitten Carolina has ever seen in her life pokes his head out.

He looks so young that Carolina feels a weird gut reaction and a whine escapes her, the odd, protective feeling sending her lurching forward on spindle legs towards him. He’s too young to be away from his mom, she thinks a second before she remembers he doesn’t have a mom.

Apparently she’s not the only one hit with the weird urge, because the other cat sidles forward too before stopping, fur bristling and tail beginning to twitch. “Okay, you didn’t say we’d get weird animal feelings too,” Wash complains. He pauses. His ears twitch. “Though I knew I was gonna be a cat.”

The hawk makes a weird noise. Carolina’s pretty sure it’s a laugh. “Yeah, big surprise there,” Niner says. “Also, good to know it’s not just me with those animal instincts. I kind of want to eat Church right now.”

“Don’t!” is shouted from pretty much everyone.

Niner’s feathers puff up. “I said kind of!”

Sheila, the turtle, says in her calm, slow way, “It is an interesting experience.”

“Church,” Caboose breathes, turning his head a little. He stares at Church. His tail begins to wag, slowly at first, and then faster. “You are so small. I want to feed you a tiny cracker.”

“I’m not small, I just--” Church stops. He’s tiny, and even all of his fur puffing out in outrage doesn’t make him much bigger. He squints around at the group. Carolina wonders how well he can even see at the moment. He looks young enough that his eyes are barely open. “Whatever. Tucker’s a cockatoo, what’s up with that?”

“Dude,” Tucker says, betrayed.

“It is weird,” Wash says thoughtfully. “The rest of us look like we’re the teen versions of whatever animal or bird we turned into, but you look and smell like a--”

“Weren’t we gonna talk to Freckles?” Church interjects hastily.

Carolina can hear a tinge of panic in his voice. She should probably do something about that, but she’s still nagged by the thought that there was something wrong with Church’s recitation.

She wobbles on her four legs towards the book as Church says with forced cheer, “Hey, Freckles, buddy, how are you doing?”

“Everyone smells different,” Freckles says. His voice is very deep. He sounds confused. He is still sitting where Caboose told him to stay, but his tail is also beginning to thump very slowly against the floor. His large brown eyes are focused on Caboose, though it focuses briefly on Church to add, “Except you. You still smell like a kitten.”

“I--”

Church’s squeaking protest is lost under Caboose’s ecstatic bark of, “Freckles!”

Carolina peers at the still open spellbook. She rereads the invocation and feels her heart sink in her chest. “Church.” His name comes out as a slight growl, low and exasperated.

Church tries to turn and wobbles unsteadily on Caboose’s back. “What?”

“Michael!” Freckles says, the tempo of his wagging tail increasing.

“Oh wow! We can talk about so many things!” Caboose says excitedly. “Why are you sad? Do you like the food we buy? Is it okay when we have to take walks when it’s raining? Do you--”

Carolina stalks over to Caboose and Church, lowering her head until her nose is almost touching his. When he blinks those tiny eyes in confusion, she stomps down on the protective feeling and growls, “Church, did you seal the spell?”

“No, I’m not stupid,” Church says. “We’ll only be--”

She sees the second he realizes how he screwed up, because his fur goes flat, his stub of a tail dips, and he tries to sink and disappear into Caboose’s thick fur.

“...Ooops.”

“Uh, want to clue us in?” Connie asks, looking up from examining her paws in fascination.

Carolina sighs. “He forgot a part of the spell. The time limit.”

There’s silence for a second.

“What does that mean?” Tucker demands at the same time Wash says, “Did he trap us as animals forever?”

“No!” Church says. His attempt to hide in Caboose’s fur thwarted, he mumbles, “It just means it might, uh, be a little harder to get back to normal, that’s all. I didn’t seal the spell, we can reverse it! Calm down!”

“You calm down!” Connie snaps. “I have a date with Conner tomorrow. I can’t be a raccoon! He’ll have some questions!”

“You won’t be a raccoon tomorrow,” Church argues. He gives Carolina a pleading look.

Carolina considers staying annoyed by Church’s sloppy spellwork, but everyone looks freaked out, so she relents. “We’ll be okay. Look.” She tries to point a gray paw at herself. It’s awkward, but she manages it. “Now that I’ve seen the beast within, it’s time for me to go back to my original skin.”

Her paw doesn’t glow blue. She blinks. Wait, are they the equivalent of familiars right now? Grif doesn’t have access to his magic, so does that mean--

“Uh,” she says.

“I’m gonna be a stupid bird forever,” Tucker moans. “I’ll never date Naomi.”

“We’re not gonna be animals forever,” Church says. He sounds almost irritated now. Carolina gives him a look, because a freakout is fully justified at the moment. She can’t use her magic! He notices her expression, and adds, “I didn’t seal the spell. Any witch can reverse this.”

Some of the panic in the air subsides at that, though Wash mutters, “Great. Grey’s been wanting to get her hands on me ever since I shoved you into that locker. Glad to give her an excuse.”

“Oh, we’re not telling Grey,” Church says.

Sheila looks at him. “Why not?”

Church pauses. “Uh.”

Carolina is tempted to let him squirm a little, but there’s still nervousness in the air that makes her want to get out of this room and run a few laps around the brownstone. She turns to face the majority of the group. “Grey and Kimball know we told Wash we’re witches. We. Um. Didn’t tell them we told the rest of you.”

“Why not?” Caboose asks, sounding confused.

Niner fixes her with a piercing look, her hawk eyes bright with suspicion. “Wait. Is this why we’ve been mostly hanging out at your house when they aren’t around?”

Connie adds, “Or at the Slicery? Or my place?”

Carolina and Church exchange a look.

Wash stands up. His tail twitches rapidly. There’s a hint of a hiss in his voice as he says, “Let me guess. You were worried they would want to mind-wipe everybody. That they didn’t trust all of us not to screw up.”

“Pretty much,” Church mumbles.

“They weren’t going to mind-wipe you,” Carolina protests. She feels a growl of her own building in her chest and forces it down. She’s not letting anyone use memory spells on her friends, not even Grey or Kimball. “But, uh. They weren’t going to be happy.”

“We figured better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” Church says. “And then. Just. Didn’t ask for forgiveness. Heh.”

“Okay, so we’re telling Ms. Kimball,” Tucker says. His head tilts sideways, the brilliant white feathers swaying a little with the gesture. “She seems cool.”

“Nope,” Church says.

Carolina joins the rest of the group in staring at him.

“Then who--”

“Just trust me,” Church says. It’s annoying that he sounds so confident when Carolina has no idea what he’s thinking. “We’ve got someone we can call.”

Carolina keeps staring.

Caboose heaves out a deep breath and says, “I trust you, Church.”

“I don’t,” Connie mutters.

“Should I answer the questions now?” Freckles asks.

Everyone turns to stare at Freckles instead, except for Carolina, who doesn’t take her eyes off Church. She racks her brain for who he could be thinking of asking for help. Doyle’s out. In fact, now that she’s thought of him she gets nervous that he might show up at the exact worst time for a pop quiz. She has to turn in a couple circles to calm herself down at the thought. But Church wouldn’t ask him for help, which leaves only….

She nudges Church gently with her nose, earning a surprised little squeak.

“We’re not asking Mr. Simmons,” she whispers.

“Uh huh,” Church says, clearly humoring her. Louder, or at least as loudly as his tiny kitten voice can muster, he says, “Yeah! You had Caboose really worried, Freckles. Tell us all about why you’re so sad!”

Freckles sighs.

The entire group leans closer.

“I miss my friend,” Freckles says forlornly. “She was there every day, saying hello across the street! And then she was gone! Forever!”

“What?” Church says, sounding baffled.

“...You mean Posey?” Caboose says.

Freckles actually whines, a sympathetic sound that makes Carolina want to tuck her tail briefly between her legs. “She’s gone!”

“Oh!” Caboose says. He bounds upright, almost sending Church flying from his back. He dances around in a circle, too excited to notice Church’s alarmed squeaks. “It’s okay! She’ll be back in a week! She and her family went to Michigan on vacation!”

“She will?” Freckles almost stands up. Halfway up, he stops and then drops back to the floor with a quiet, “Told me to stay….”

“That was just for the spell!” Caboose tells him. “You can move now!”

“Caboose, wait--” Church mewls again as Freckles leaps forward and half-jumps on Caboose, barking excitedly and saying, “She’ll be back! She’s not gone! And we can talk now and you can understand what I’m saying! This is the best day!”

“It is!” Caboose agrees. A second later they’re jumping together, with a tiny Church clinging to his back like he’s a cowboy on a bucking bronco.

The rest of the group watches for a moment.

“Stupid but sweet,” Wash decides after a second.

“Yeah,” Niner agrees. Then she tilts her head. “So...who wants to try and open the window so I can fly around the backyard?”

Church will admit he made a tiny mistake with the spell, but it’s still going fine.

Everyone’s enjoying talking to Freckles. Connie managed to use her little raccoon hands to get the window and some doors open. Niner and Tucker keep flying in and out of the room and Carolina’s run around the backyard with Freckles and Caboose enough times that she’s currently crashed on her bed, tongue lolling and half-dozing.

A nap sounds great, actually. Church has to fight to keep his eyes open. He’s been wanting to sleep most of the time since he found himself buried in Caboose’s fur.

“Seriously, though,” Tucker says. “Why am I a cockatoo? Niner’s a hawk!”

“That’s obvious,” Niner says. “It’s been you’re a c--”

“Niner,” Carolina says warningly.

“What?” Niner says, feigning innocence.

Church’s eyes start to shut. He blinks hard, trying to stay awake, and then squeaks in alarm as Wash suddenly looms in front of him, feline expression one of intent curiosity. Everyone’s so much bigger than Church, it gives him a heart attack anytime someone gets too close.

“What?” he snaps, ears going flat at the awkward squeakiness of his own voice.

“Seriously, why are you a baby?” Wash asks.

Freckles looks up mid-wrestling with Caboose. “He’s always been a baby. I don’t know where his mother is half the time, but he shouldn’t be away from her when he's so young.”

“I’m not a baby,” Church says, seething through his alarm. Magic shouldn’t be confused anymore. He’s a real boy now. Just because technically he’s been alive for a year and a half, give or take, doesn’t mean magic should treat him like a baby--

“It is weird,” Niner agrees. She perches on the edge of the bed.

The intensity in her eyes makes Church’s stupid cat instincts go haywire, because she’s a predator and he’s very small, and this is all very, very stupid. His paws flex awkwardly, trying to brandish claws. “It’s not weird!”

“It’s pretty weird,” Tucker says.

“Magic turned us into teenage versions of animals,” Wash says. “All except for you.”

Church turns towards Carolina, who just blinks at him, clearly blanking on an excuse.

“Magic’s weird,” he says. His voice comes out as a shrill squeak that gets even Sheila slowly turning her head to stare at him. “I mean, why did it turn Sheila into a turtle?”

They don’t go for the distraction. They’re all staring at him now. Church needs to find somewhere to lay low until they get tired of being animals and he can call Grif to help them out. Then they’ll forget about him being a kitten.

He tries to stand up and stalk away.

The world tilts alarmingly. He trips over a paw and almost face-plants into the floor.

“Watch it,” Wash says, steadying him with a paw. He looks amused, whiskers up. “And good luck going anywhere. You're like five weeks old, maybe. In human years that's like you being born....”

Wash pauses. In that pause Church winces and watches as realization creeps into Wash’s expression. Those feline pupils dilate and his tail curls into a questioning arc as Wash concludes slowly, “A year and a half ago....”

Tucker waddles closer. His head tilts first left and then right as he squints at Church. “You were really weird when you showed up,” he says, that same realization beginning in his face as his feathers twitch. “It was like you were Amish or, uh, or born yesterday.”

“No, just a week before.”

The muttered words escape Church before he can think about them.

“Church?” Caboose says, ears up and eyes fixed on him. “Are you a baby?”

“No!” Church snaps, the denial coming out as an annoyed hiss. “Just. Uh. It’s complicated!”

Niner snorts. “More complicated than you and Carolina having a birthday the same week? That we all agreed not to ask about because we didn’t want Carolina to feel bad about having a sucky dad?”

“Hey, family drama’s none of our business,” Wash says. It has the air of an old argument, though he sounds slightly distracted, still staring at Church. He doesn’t look away even as Connie says, “I want to know what’s up if it’s not Carolina’s dad two-timing her mom. Sorry, Carolina.”

Church doesn’t miss the way Carolina’s ears flatten to her head, or the way her tail tucks itself briefly under her. She looks towards Church. “It would be nice to tell the whole truth,” she offers, slightly tentatively.

Church groans. “For you, maybe. They’re gonna be weird about it.”

"Weirder than you're being right now?" Niner asks.

“Yes!”

Everyone just looks at him.

Church actually hisses this time. “Fine! You really want to know? Leonard tried to do a loophole so he could visit Carolina. I happened instead. Like Pinocchio, but I got to become a real boy. So yeah, technically I didn’t exist two years ago, but I’m a teenager, magic is just being petty and stupid and….”

No one’s saying anything. He feels like someone should’ve interrupted him by now. They’re all just staring instead.

He hisses again. “Say something!”

“I knew you weren’t Amish,” Niner says. She cocks her head towards Tucker, one claw lifting up towards him and curling a talon. “You owe me five bucks.”

“Uh, you thought he was in a cult,” Tucker argues. “You were wrong too.”

“Crap,” Niner mutters. “Wait, did anyone guess right?”

Church stares, incredulous. “Did-- did someone guess that I was created by magic?” he says. “No, because there’s no way any of you would have guessed that! You guys didn’t even know about magic three months ago!”

Wash is still staring at Church, but he settles back on his haunches, rubbing a paw across his jaw. “I say that aliens feel closest, so I should win.”

“No way,” Connie says.

Church watches as everyone devolves into bickering over what guess is closest and who should win the betting pool. He turns to look at Carolina, who looks just as surprised at their reaction, but also a little amused.

There’s a weird relief welling up in him, but irritated disbelief stomps it out. “Are you guys serious?!” he yelps. “You’re focusing on some stupid bet instead of--of--”

“Do you want us to be weird about it?” Tucker asks.

“No, but--”

“Wait,” Caboose says slowly. His canine face is the definition of confused, so much that it’s a wonder there’s not a glowing question mark above his head. “We met your mom. Doctor Huggins.”

Church blinks, thrown by the question. “Huggins? She’s just a friend of Grey’s.”

“Then who’s your real mom?”

Church squints, trying to figure out if Caboose is serious. When Caboose just looks earnest, he sighs. “Caboose, I was created by magic. I don’t have a mom.”

“No mom?” Freckles says, looking alarmed. He prances in place. “But you’re a baby!”

Church growls. It comes out as more of a chirp, and he ignores the amused looks as he says, “Not a baby. A teenage boy. Not my fault magic likes to be technical.”

Freckles is still prancing around. He looks concerned. He looms over Church.

Church yelps as a huge paw reaches out for him. He barely manages to dodge it, and hisses when Freckles reaches for him again. “What are you doing? Caboose, tell him to stop being weird!”

“If you don’t have a dad, I can be your dad,” Freckles says matter-of-factly.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Tucker snickers. “Congrats, Carolina. You’ve got a stepdog.”

Everyone else starts laughing too.

Even Carolina, the traitor, looks amused, her tail wagging slowly behind her and a canine grin on her face. Then she steps forward, nudging at Freckles with her snout. She might as well have been trying to move a boulder.

“Don’t worry, Freckles,” she says, the laughter still in her voice. “Church has a dad. And he’s got me.”

She’s just as matter-of-fact about it as Freckles was with his offer, but it catches Church off-guard anyway. Church looks up at her, knowing exactly what expression she’d be wearing if they weren’t all animals. Seven months, he thinks, surprised again. Seven months since they declared they were family and magic turned it into a seal.

His chest feels weird. It’s not until Carolina’s expression softens with surprise that he realizes he’s purring, a faint, buzzing sound reverberating from his tiny chest. He tries to stop, embarrassed, but this stupid kitten body has a mind of its own, purring away happily.

“Oh,” Freckles says. The alarm and concern fades from his expression. He steps back. “That’s good!”

Wash is studying Church intently, the narrow-eyed focus from earlier returning. For a second Church tenses, sure Wash at the very least is going to be weird about it, but all Wash does is blink slowly and say, “Well, that explains a lot.”

Church eyes him right back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you have the decision-making skills of a toddler,” Connie says.

Church stops purring. “Excuse me?” When no one, not even Carolina, speaks up in his defense, he grumbles, “I make good decisions, don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not Tucker.”

“Hey,” Tucker says. “I wasn’t even agreeing with them! ...I mean, I agree with them, but--”

“Last week you almost dyed your locs blue because Naomi mentioned it was her favorite color,” Church says. “Only reason you didn’t is because she’s visiting family in New Jersey for--”

“Hey!” Tucker repeats, louder and more strident. He glares at Church, tiny bird claws flexing. “I-- she-- my hair would look awesome blue! I wasn’t gonna do it for her!”

“Uh huh,” Church says.

“Big talk from the guy who forgot to put a time limit on this spell,” Carolina says dryly.

Church winces. “Look--”

“Yeah, how are we getting back to normal?” Connie asks. “I mean, being a racoon is fun, but I need to be myself by tomorrow.”

“I know a guy,” Church says with more confidence than he feels. It’s only now as everyone keeps looking at him that he thinks to wonder if Simmons and Grif are home. They have to be, though, right? It’s not like Simmons has a life, and Grif can’t exactly book himself a vacation somewhere fun. “Just let me call him.”

“With your kitten hands?” Wash asks skeptically.

“Uh.”

Connie gets a weird expression on her face. He only realizes she’s trying to roll her eyes when she sighs and says, “Just tell me the number. I’ll dial.”

“Church,” Carolina says, ears flat. She sidles over to him, laying her head next to him so that she can whisper, “I don’t know--”

“Got a better idea?”

“No,” Carolina admits, but her tail is drooping. “But it’s not our secret to tell…..”

Church feels a pang of guilt, which he promptly squashes. “It’s fine. Simmons will probably be glad there’s more people to geek out over magic with. He and Connie can ask a million questions together.”

Church thinks he’s keeping his voice low, but he forgot about canine hearing.

Caboose’s ears prick up. “We’re calling Mr. Simmons? Oh! Is he a witch too?”

“No way Mr. Simmons is a witch,” Niner says immediately.

“I mean, maybe that’s how he got jacked,” Tucker says. “By magic. Hey, Church, can you--”

“No,” Church says flatly. He’s getting a sinking feeling in his stomach. Calling Simmons doesn’t just mean their friends find out about Grif and how Simmons has been lying to the Council for years. It means everyone finding out that a mortal like Simmons can do magic.

Yeah, this was probably a mistake. Maybe they should’ve tried to call Sabrina first.

Wash side-eyes him. “No about magic giving Tucker abs or no about Simmons being a witch?”

Church feels his tail twitch. “Both. Simmons is as mortal as you or Niner.”

“Then how can he help us?” Connie asks.

“Because he knows a couple witches,” Carolina says before Church can answer.

Wash still looks suspicious. “How does he know--”

“Let’s go call him!” Church says hastily. He lurches to his feet and immediately almost falls over. “I know I’m tired of being a cat-- hey!”

His squeak of outrage goes unnoticed as Connie scoops him up with her weird raccoon hands.

Caboose sighs and leans his head against Freckles. “It was very nice to talk to you,” he says. Earnestness radiates off of him in waves, his big eyes meeting Freckles, who gives a low half-whine, half-bark and says, “Maybe we can do it again!”

“Sounds fun,” Niner says. She stretches out her wings and launches herself into the air, doing a quick circle around the room before heading out into the hallway and down towards the kitchen.

“Seriously?” Church says. When Caboose turns that hopeful expression on him, he sighs. Reluctantly, he mumbles, “The ingredients are expensive. I’ll do it again for your birthday, okay?”

“Softie,” Tucker coughs under his breath.

Church pretends not to hear.

“This is a stupid game,” Grif mutters.

Simmons grins at him across the checkerboard. “Mad because you’re losing?”

“No,” Grif says, but his tail twitches.

Simmons keeps grinning. It’s been a good day. Kai had checked over his latest batch of crystals and declared them all free of curses before she went off to some winery in the Other Realm for a free taste testing. And Doctor Church sent a book that Simmons knows will be useful to his research. Tonight or tomorrow he’ll head out to the leylines for some more experiments.

But for now he’s just enjoying thoroughly destroying Grif at checkers.

“I just think poker’s more fun. We should play poker,” Grif declares.

Simmons laughs. “Sure.”

Grif squints at him, whiskers twitching.

Simmons just waves a hand at his tail and says, “Pretty sure you’ve got a tell. Maybe a tell-tail, even.”

Grif starts to look annoyed before he stops and snickers. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. That was a good pun.”

Simmons looks back at the board. He’s pretty sure in another move or two he’ll have another king on the board. He’s reaching for the checker when the phone rings. He looks up, blinking.

“Expecting a call?” Grif asks, ears slightly flat as the phone rings again.

“No,” Simmons says. He mentally crosses his fingers and hopes it’s not Kraft, calling him in as an emergency sub for tomorrow’s summer school. It’s been nice to have the summer to himself. He hauls himself up and grabs the phone on the third ring.

“--how does Grif do this?” is the first thing he hears. It’s a familiar irritated voice that still sounds strange, shriller than usual.

Simmons frowns. “Church?”

“Uh. Hi.”

“Wait, Grif?” someone says on the other line. It sounds like Wash. “You mean Mr. Simmons’ cat?”

“Uh,” Church repeats. “Listen…..”

Simmons can feel his eyes narrow. “I’m listening.”

His tone makes Grif look up from-- Right. Grif was definitely taking advantage of the phone call to cheat. Simmons is going to remember that.

Simmons reassures himself that there’s no panic in Church’s voice. This isn’t Felix 2.0, Church calling for help in saving Carolina. But there’s still a flustered caginess to Church’s mumbling that makes Simmons suspect that Church is calling for help with something he doesn’t want Doctor Grey or Ms. Kimball to know about.

There’s a forced brightness to Church’s voice. “Wanna come over and play with some effluvium? Or Grif’s sister can swing by, honestly, I want to meet her--”

“Church,” Simmons says. “What’s going on?”

“So, funny story,” Church says. “Carolina and I kind of told Wash and a couple of our friends we’re witches right before summer started--”

Apparently Simmons’ expression changes, because Grif stops messing with the checkers and looks over, eyes narrowing to slits. “Simmons?”

“--and we were all hanging out and--”

Simmons finds his voice. Well, mostly. It comes out as a strangled yelp. “Church, you told--”

“It’s fine!” Church snaps defensively. “They know what happens if they tell anybody! It’s been a month, pretty sure someone would’ve screwed up by now. But, uh, we were doing some magic, and I maybe forgot to put a time limit on the spell, and we really don’t wanna be stuck as animals when Kimball and Grey get home from work, so…. Help?”

Simmons takes a deep breath. Then he takes another. “Grif and I will be over soon.”

He barely hears Church’s, “Thanks! See, Carolina, I told--” as he hangs up.

“What’d they do?” Grif asks, tail still twitching.

Simmons rubs his forehead. He can feel a stress headache forming. “They told their friends they’re witches.”

Grif blinks. “Uh. How many did they….?”

“I don’t know,” Simmons says. “Obviously more than one, since he said a couple.” He’s momentarily distracted from his impending headache by Grif’s hypocrisy as Grif snorts and says, “Wow, that was stupid.”

Simmons frowns at him. “Stupid? You told me and we didn’t even know each other.”

“I mean, I knew you were a nerd. And that’s different,” Grif says. He pauses, licking the tip of his nose. “Besides, one’s a good limit. Any more than that and it gets weird.”

“Well, it got weird,” Simmons says. He sighs. “Church said something about them all being stuck as animals. He needs our help getting them back to normal.”

“Gee, no idea what that’s like,” Grif deadpans.

Simmons makes a face.

Grif flicks an ear dismissively. “Let’s go help. And laugh.”

When Simmons knocks, there’s a beat of silence before he and Grif hear a frazzled, “Crap, it’s probably unlocked, right? Uh, come in! Or, uh, tell us it’s locked and we’ll get Connie to unlock it.”

Connie, not bothering to hide the amusement in her voice, says, “You are so lucky I’m a raccoon. What would you say if none of us had hands?”

Simmons sighs and tries the door. It’s unlocked.

Grif starts snickering the second Simmons pulls the door open. Even Simmons, despite the situation, feels the corner of his mouth twitch at the sight of a weird assembly of birds and animals.

“Yeah, you don’t care about your thumbs until you don’t have them anymore,” Grif drawls, strolling into the living room, his tail curved in an amused arc.

“You get the fridge open just fine without them,” Simmons says. “I know you ate my leftovers.”

Grif looks over his shoulder, the picture of innocence. “Me?”

There’s another moment of silence, followed by a lot of noise as most of the animals stare at Grif, turn to stare at the kitten and the greyhound, and then all yell at once.

“Why can Simmons talk to his cat?”

“Oh! Is it a spell? Can we do that next time for Freckles?”

The greyhound’s ears go flat against its head, and then Carolina’s voice comes out of its muzzle. She’s focused on the older cat. “I told you there were secrets that weren’t mine to tell. This is one of them.”

“Yeah, Church will tell them instead,” Wash says dryly.

“Hey,” Church says, tiny voice aggravated.

Simmons also looks at Church, amusement at his predicament and the fact that the spell has gone by his physical age instead of his mental age warring with exasperation that Church decided to spill this particular secret. It’s going to make the next school year so complicated.

“Yeah, great job at keeping secrets, dude,” Grif says, strolling forward to look Church over. He has to look up because Church is perched on a dog’s back, not quite concealed from view. “Anything else you want to snitch about?”

“Look, we haven’t, uh, told Grey or Kimball that we told everyone, so you were our only option!” Church says defensively. He sinks lower in the fur.

Grif gives him a look. “I can name one person who would’ve made more sense, but I’m not a snitch.”

As Church does a frustrated little hiss in his direction, the sound more adorable than anything else, Simmons looks at the assembled kids turned into animals. He can feel the magic in the area, the effluvium from constant spellwork pressing against his skin like humidity.

“Right,” Simmons says, excited despite himself. “Let’s fix this.”

He thinks for a moment and then says, “Being animals seems like it’s been fun, but now the spell should be undone.”

It’s always a thrill to feel the spell click. He watches the wave of maroon magic wash over the group, leaving much more familiar faces in its wake. And a little chaos as Niner wobbles on her perch on the couch and Church tumbles from where he was almost piggybacking Caboose.

Now the only ones with four legs are Grif and Freckles, the latter of whom is half-huddled behind Caboose and peeking around him at Grif. His canine expression is one of confusion, and he barks softly at Caboose.

Caboose sighs. “I don’t know what you’re saying anymore. But that’s Grif and Mr. Simmons. You met them at the beach, remember?”

Wash straightens, turning to squint at Carolina and Church. His eyes narrow. Simmons is startled by the anger in his voice as he snaps, “You said he wasn’t a witch!”

Church winces.

“Huh,” Grif says. “Guess he wasn’t a total snitch.”

Carolina smiles apologetically. “We told them you knew some witches.”

“So, wait,” Connie says, staring at Simmons. “You’re not a witch? But you can do magic.”

“Uh,” Simmons says. He blinks. He’d really assumed Carolina and Church had explained. He rubs at the back of his neck, struggling for the right words. He’s never really had to explain himself to anyone but witches. It’s...weird. “I’m not a witch.”

“But you can do magic,” Tucker repeats. His eyes widen. “Can we all do magic? Is this witch thing just a scam--”

Church groans loudly. “It’s not a scam!”

Simmons says, “Well, there’s only been me, so it’s hard to say. It’s not like I can do a controlled experiment with volunteers or--” He catches a gleam in Niner’s eye and adds hastily, “--since the Council would be furious if they found out. I don’t, uh, mind risking myself, but….”

He stops again, because now Grif’s ears are flat, the amusement gone.

“Oh yeah, those dudes hate mortals,” Tucker says.

“Yep,” Grif says flatly. He gives everyone a long stare. “So keep your mouths shut.”

“That’d be easier if we knew what was going on,” Wash points out, still narrow-eyed.

Simmons coughs, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “So! I can do magic, provided that there’s effluvium, or the remnants of magic from witches around. This house with four witches living here means I can do spells pretty easily.”

“And him?” Niner asks. She jerks a thumb in Grif’s direction.

His ears are still against his skull. His tail twitches. “I’m what happens when a witch gets in trouble with the Council.”

“What’d you do?” Tucker asks, intrigued.

“Helped someone,” Grif says.

“Why would you get in trouble for helping someone?” Caboose asks. He looks confused.

“The Council really hated that guy.”

“He did kill one of them,” Church mutters.

Niner and Connie both lean forward, curiosity glinting in their eyes. “You helped a murderer?”

“I--”

Simmons clears his throat. When everyone keeps looking at Grif, he clears his throat louder, the pointed way he does sometimes in class. That gets their attention. “I think that’s enough questions. You’re welcome, but we’re going to head home.”

“Aw, but I have more questions,” Tucker says. “You can do magic! What’s the coolest spell you’ve ever done?”

Simmons hesitates. It would be nice to discuss magic with other people, but it’s probably not appropriate to do it with multiple former students, especially when he can already tell a few of them are thinking about trying to do magic unsupervised. Or at least Connie is, judging by the way she’s pulled out a pen and notepad.

“I think we’re good,” Church says quickly. “Thanks for coming by.” When a few of the other kids frown at him, he makes a face. “Look, the Council will be pissed if they find out Simmons is doing magic. So the less you guys know, the better. Like, you think being turned to stone is bad? They’ll probably--”

“It’s very dangerous,” Simmons says before Church can get into any gory details. He starts to say something else, then gets distracted by Grif, curled around his ankles looking irritated.

“Thank you,” Carolina says. When her eyes meet Simmons’, she gives a little apologetic twist of her lips. “And, um, sorry that we called you.”

“I’m not,” Church says. He ignores the look that gets him from Simmons, Grif, and his sister. “At least Grey and Kimball aren’t gonna find out about this. We’re free and clear.”

“Not exactly,” a voice says dryly behind Simmons.

Church’s grin freezes on his face.

Simmons spins to face Ms. Kimball, who’s got a guarded look on her face and her arms crossed against her chest. Panic hits him like a punch to the gut. He blurts out, “Grif and I found out about all this just now!”

“...Dude,” Grif says, amused.

Kimball looks down at Grif, then slowly around at the group, clearly taking in their lack of surprise. Her lips go thin. Simmons winces when she uncrosses her arms, but all she does is point a finger towards Carolina and Church and say, “Explain. Now.”

“Uh,” says Church.

Carolina bites her lip. “Remember how we told Wash the truth?” When Kimball nods slowly, Carolina gestures towards the other kids and says, “Well, we. Um. Told everyone else too.”

Kimball’s warm brown skin loses a few shades of color for a second. Then her lips go even thinner. She looks around at the kids, who are watching her with wide-eyed interest, except for Wash, who Simmons is surprised to see looks tense, his hands fists at his sides and his entire body braced.

Simmons sees Kimball register Wash, her gaze lingering on him the longest. Then she says in a clipped voice, “Right. Carolina and Church explained the consequences of telling anyone else about magic?” When the group nods, she takes a deep breath. “Good. Now, go home. Carolina and Church need to explain themselves to Emily and their dad as well.”

“We don’t need to, do we?” Church says, suddenly looking even more nervous.

Kimball fixes him with a look. “Yes.”

Church winces. “Great. Awesome. Looking forward to that.”

Sheila frowns. “You do not sound like you are looking forward to that conversation.”

Worry creases Caboose’s forehead. “Are Carolina and Church in trouble? They were only helping me figure out why Freckles was so sad! Please don’t ground them again.”

Kimball blinks. For a second her expression softens with confusion. Then she sighs. “I can’t promise that, Caboose. It’s up to Leonard.”

Church grimaces in Caboose’s direction. “We’re not in trouble because of you.” He pauses. “Well, mostly. It’s nothing you did, okay?”

“Okay,” Caboose says, still worried.

Simmons represses a wince of his own when Kimball looks at him. “This is the first I heard of all of this,” he tells her, ignoring the quiet snort from Grif at his feet. “But, um, they seem to understand the, uh, trust Carolina and Church have-- have put in them, so I think it’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right,” Kimball says grimly.

“Come on, guys,” Wash says. He still looks tense. “Let’s go.”

“But I want to ask Ms. Kimball--” Connie’s protests stop with a frustrated noise as Wash grabs her elbow and steers her around Simmons and Kimball and out the door, Niner trailing behind with a questioning look in Carolina’s direction.

“We might get grounded,” Carolina says, smiling weakly at her. “It’s okay.”

Niner gives her a salute.

“Caboose,” Sheila says softly, touching his arm. “This is a family matter. I am sure Ms. Kimball will let Church call you if he is grounded and cannot spend time with us for a few weeks.”

Caboose sighs.

Church’s squeak sounds so much like the kitten he was that Simmons bites down on a laugh as Caboose reaches out and lifts him into a hug. His feet dangle off the floor and he sags in Caboose’s grip with a roll of his eyes and an awkward pat to Caboose’s arm.

Caboose carefully sets him down. Then he looks at Kimball. The dictionary definition of earnest, he says, “We’ll all keep their secret.”

Kimball’s expression softens a little more, a hint of unexpected humor in her eyes.

“Yeah,” Tucker agrees. “We don’t want him to lose his magic.”

Kimball nods slowly. “Good.”

The kids all shuffle out, slightly awkwardly, except for Freckles, who trots along happily at Caboose’s side.

Simmons rubs at his neck. “Sorry for, uh, intruding. Grif and I will, uh--”

“Bye,” Grif drawls, pushing at Simmons’ shin with his paws.

The last thing Simmons sees before the door closes is Kimball turning back to Carolina and Church, her arms crossed again.

“I wouldn’t want to be them right now,” Grif mutters.

Simmons nods fervently. “Me neither.”

Grif nudges him with his shoulder. Simmons looks down at him. He recognizes that look, and braces himself for teasing. Sure enough, Grif snickers to himself and says, “By the way, nice job back there. You threw them under the bus so fast I’m pretty sure they didn’t even get that license plate.”

Simmons flushes. “I was just clarifying things!”

“Uh huh,” Grif says, amused.

“Do you want Kimball mad at us?”

“Dude, I’m not saying it was a bad idea. I’m just saying you didn’t even hesitate.”

Simmons sighs.

“But we shouldn’t tell Kai. She doesn’t believe in exceptions to snitches get stitches.”

“....Right.”

Church knows Kimball is angry and disappointed with them. It feels a lot like the aftermath of the Felix and Locus thing in a way, even if in the end they aren’t grounded this time. He knows Grey isn’t happy either, though she’s showing that by being viciously cheerful about it. They’re definitely in trouble for keeping it a secret or discussing it with Grey and Kimball beforehand though.

He’s braced for one of them to rat them out to Leonard as soon as everyone sits down to dinner, but Kimball and Grey don’t say a word at first.

It’s only when Leonard asks how everyone’s week went that Kimball says dryly, “Interesting. I think Carolina and Church should explain what happened yesterday.”

Church almost chokes on his soup as Leonard’s blind, puzzled face turns in his direction. He coughs. “Uh. So.”

Something in just those two words makes Leonard’s eyes narrow slightly. “So,” he prompts. Church should probably take offense at the instant suspicion in his voice, but he gets distracted by the tinge of worry there too.

Carolina sets her spoon down. She licks her lips, looking both nervous and a little defiant.

“A few weeks ago, Church and I found out a memory spell on Wash didn’t work. Well, it worked and then it, um, stopped working.”

Church can see the color beginning to drain from Leonard’s face. He interjects quickly, “He didn’t tell anyone, obviously. And we told him what the Council will do if he does. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“He will,” Carolina agrees, nodding. Then she swallows. “But he pointed out that next time we might not be so lucky. What if Caboose saw something and told Tucker? So we decided to tell our friends--”

“You decided to what?”

The question leaves Leonard in a disbelieving hiss, his teeth clenched so tightly that it’s a miracle the words escape. His eyes, covered over in white, still dart around as he leans forward in his chair.

“And you spoke to Emily and Vanessa and they told you how foolish you were being,” he says. “The more people know your secret, the more risk--”

“Oh, Leonard,” Emily says. There’s still a thread of amusement in her voice, but less than Church expected. She shakes her head. “Carolina and Church already told them. Apparently Vanessa came home a few minutes too late and missed a whole gaggle of mortals temporarily turned into animals.”

Leonard opens his mouth. Nothing comes out.

Church watches with a sinking feeling in his gut as Leonard’s face gets paler and paler. When he gropes for the edge of the table and half-rises from his seat, clearly about to scold them both for being reckless idiots once he can remember how to talk, Church says, “They’re not gonna tell anyone. Nobody wants to be a statue.”

Leonard gives a small shake of his head. “The--” There’s a hitch in his breath. “The risks-- If they--” He stops. “This is...this is unacceptable. I thought you both had more sense than this, but apparently I was-- It seems that I was wrong. We need to fix this.”

“Fix it how?” Carolina asks. Her expression darkens before Leonard can answer. Her defiant, stubborn look makes Church wince in anticipation of a nasty argument even before she says flatly, “We’re not wiping their memories.”

Grey and Kimball exchange a look. “Leonard--”

“Of course we are,” Leonard snaps, ignoring Grey. His blind face is turned towards Carolina, his fingers white-knuckled on the table’s edge. “It’s our only course of action to keep you safe. If you won’t, then I shall do it myself--”

Carolina bolts out of her seat. “No one’s wiping their memories!”

Church doesn’t realize he’s jumped up either until his chair wobbles and hits the back of his knees. “Okay! Everybody stop!” He’s surprised when they actually obey, though he’s pretty sure it’s mostly from surprise as everyone turns towards him. He swallows, his stomach twisting. If things keep going like this, Carolina and Leonard are going to say something they’ll both regret.

He points towards the kitchen door. “Grey, Kimball, Carolina, leave. I need to talk to Leonard for a minute.”

“I’m not--” Carolina says, bristling and flushed hot with anger. She snaps her mouth shut when he gives her a pleading look. Then she gives him a long, hard stare, eyes narrowed like she’s trying to read his mind. Clearly she doesn’t jump to stupid conclusions like he’s going to mind-wipe everyone with Leonard behind her back. “Okay. Fine.”

She stalks out of the room.

He’s expecting a protest from at least Grey, but she just tilts her head at him for a second before she follows Kimball and Carolina out, closing the door after them. He flicks a finger towards it and makes sure the door stays shut.

“How could you allow this?” Leonard hisses before the magic can fade from Church’s finger. He’s still half-bent over the table, but now he straightens, his eyes a blazing, furious green. “You know what will happen if any of them-- if they-- what the Council would--”

When Leonard’s breath hitches in his throat again, Church reaches out. Leonard’s arm is tense against his hand, though it twitches in surprise when Church pats it awkwardly.

“They’re really healthy!” Church winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth, because they sound stupid and not as reassuring as he meant them to be. At least they make Leonard blink, confusion crowding out a little of his desperate anger.

“Excuse me?”

Church licks his lips. “This isn’t. This isn’t the village, or Symon. They’re all healthy, and they’re all smart. I know you had a crappy experience with mortals as a kid, but this isn’t-- It’s 1999. They’re not gonna screw up or, or get a fever and blurt out Carolina’s a witch when they’re delirious, they’re-- It’s gonna be okay.”

Leonard shakes his head. “Church, that isn’t why I am concerned and you know--”

“I literally trust them with Carolina’s life,” Church interrupts.

That gets Leonard’s attention. He blinks again. The worry is still in his face, and his skin is still ashen, but he’s looking at Church. That’s progress, right?

Church takes a deep breath, searching for the right words. “Nobody’s turning into a statue or losing their magic.” He summons a weak smile. “Would my hug bug betray me?”

Leonard closes his eyes. For a second he looks every second of his thousand years. “Not on purpose.”

Church awkwardly pats his arm again. He tries to remember how Wash convinced them to tell the others. “We used up our luck with Wash. I… Look. I know what the consequences are. I did that stupid Quizmaster test, I was mortal for a couple minutes. It sucked. But that’s why we had to tell them. So they wouldn’t tell anyone by accident. It was the right thing to do.”

“I pray you’re right,” Leonard says. Then he frowns. It’s a new frown, at least, slightly puzzled instead of angry or worried. “Wait, you were mortal? When?”

Church blinks. “Uh, a couple months back? Before the robotics club tournament. You know about this….” He looks at Leonard’s expression. “You don’t know about this. Right, you weren’t there for the guacamole and chips conversation.”

“The what?”

Church opens his mouth, then reconsiders telling him the joke of Carolina being willing to give up her magic that easily. Probably not a good idea. He shrugs. “Not important. Yeah, Doyle gave me that test a while ago. Choose between turning Tucker into a statue or giving up magic.”

“I see,” Leonard says slowly. He’s giving Church an unreadable look.

Church is about to call him on it, and then Carolina yells through the door.

“Have you convinced him not to wipe anyone’s memories?”

She still sounds mad.

Church is hit with a memory of Carolina, thin-lipped and scared, casting a spell that she thought would protect him against whatever Grey and Leonard planned to do with him. The memory’s so intense for a second that he’s half-surprised there isn’t salt in his hair.

He can just imagine what she’d try to protect their friends.

“Yeah!” he yells back. “We’re good!”

“Excellent!” chirps Grey. Unlike Carolina, she sounds amused. “In that case, may we come back in and finish our dinner?” She doesn’t actually wait for an answer, pushing the door open and sauntering inside, Kimball and Carolina at her heels.

Leonard winces as his eyes turn white again. He can’t see Carolina’s suspicious look, but he must feel the tension in the air or something, because he clears his throat and says, “I admit I am still...concerned, but I shall have to trust your judgment.”

“Okay,” Carolina says. She glances towards Church.

He gives her a shrug and a grimace. He tries to silently communicate that Leonard won’t go running off to steal anyone’s memories. It must work, because she relaxes a little.

“Okay,” she repeats, a little softer. “Good.” Her jaw’s still tense, though and Church shouldn’t be surprised when she looks directly across the table at Leonard and adds, “I’ve got this, Dad. Church and I knew what we were doing.”

Leonard sighs. A rueful smile flits across his face so quickly that if Church had blinked he would’ve missed it. “You sound like….” He doesn’t finish the sentence, just shakes his head. “Well. You’re growing up so quickly sometimes I forget you aren’t a child anymore.”

“I’m almost eighteen,” Carolina says. It’s a reminder and a promise at the same time.

Leonard nods slowly. “I trust you. And Church.” He pauses. Now his expression turns almost wry. “And your guardians, whom I suspect will be keeping a much closer eye on you going forward.”

Kimball gives him a thin-lipped smile he can’t see. Yeah, she’s still annoyed. “That’s the plan.”

“Oh!” Grey chirps, in a bright voice that promises trouble. “We could ask dear Richard and Dexter to help supervise them as well.”

Church winces when Leonard’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Listen…..”