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Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone
Camila knows something felt familiar about this whole thing. Despite being in shock and in awe that her daughter is back, along with some of her friends. The last thing she imagined is for them to show up beaten to the bone. She does her best as a mom to make sure the children are welcomed. Strangers it may, for now, but by the looks of it, they are important to Luz. That enough is obvious. She could see there is no room for casual introductions right now.
Luz is going around making sure everyone is patched up, fed and warm. Camila has to pinch herself awake to see if this is real. That her daughter is moving around in her house after months, knowing exactly where things are placed like nothing has changed. However, concern overtook her shock as she watched the younger girl with lethargic eyes function listlessly. Luz hasn't once sat down, only after her friends weakly reprimands her for her wounds to be treated too. Even then she's reluctant, springing up right after she's been patched to help somewhere else.
Camila isn't a fool. She needs answers but one look at her daughter's broken face, and the other children's heavy eyes, she can't bring herself to ask. Not yet. That doesn't stop her tongue from hurting as she bites them to hold back her questions, or the way her arms fidget to pull her baby into an embrace but she knows she can't, not if she knows the younger girl won't pull back. She wants to beg her daughter for answers: how? why?
But her heart aches watching Luz. She knows this behavior because she's seen it before. She's distracting herself, letting her body move but her mind far, far away. It's in the way her hands tremble or her lower lip quivers when she tries to smile. It's the way her breathing looks ragged as she tries to speak, that's why she stays mostly quiet, only a few words here and there, letting her actions speak.
Actions do speak louder than words, and despite haven't seen her daughter in months, she knows her at heart. Camila is at loss on how to approach her though. Being brushed off or redirected to the others, it's also hard to miss her friends' albeit tired but worried expressions. The lavender haired girl specifically holds eye contact with her then briefly glances at Luz, her gold eyes pleading.
She gets it.
Somehow, they finally got everyone settled. The children refused to be put in separate rooms, and she understands. Warmly helping them set up futons in the living room for all of them to huddle up together. She hopes everyone is warm enough for tonight, it's the least she can do. One final glance at the children before she bid her goodnights, she never thought it's possible to see so many young kids be in this much pain. She knows the world is cruel, but the mother part in her knows that they didn't deserve whatever they went through.
Luz stares ideally at the ceiling, the familiar old clock ticking from the wall is a sound she never thought she'd hear again. It's both a comfort and a cruel reminder of how she's here. She refuses to close her eyes and succumb to end the night, she's just glad her friends are getting some rest. Gus seemingly had cried himself to sleep, Willow looked so worn out from trying to stay awake to calm him down while dealing with her own tears and Hunter making sure they're both comfortable had finally knocked out.
Amity, on the other hand, had tried to stay up with Luz. But after some comforting cuddling, Amity sobbing her eyes out on Luz's chest finally sobered out, her breathing slowed and her figure no longer shaking from trying to sob quietly. It breaks her heart even more. The realization and reminder that she's not the only one who lost, in every sense of the word. They didn't deserve this. Luz squeezes her eyes shut to force the persistent tears back to her sockets. Not now. Not yet. She gives it a few more minutes making sure everyone is deep asleep to notice her before getting up. She gently tucks in Amity, placing a light kiss on her forehead. She stretches the blanket towards Hunter, who probably forgot to cover himself after tucking in Willow and Gus, making sure he's covered and warm. A weary sigh escapes her lips as she walks away to the darkness.
She grabs Eda's jacket on her way out to the backyard. Her mom had innocently offered to wash it but a part of Luz snapped and wrapped her arms around the jacket protectively. Her own harsh reaction surprises her but before she could apologize, her mom beat her to it. She almost broke then by the strange and guilty look her Mami had.
She fits on the Letterman jacket around her, not even bothering with the sleeves as she sneaks to the backyard as quietly as she could. She sits on the deck, too tired to make it to the place right under the tree that she usually lays on, her legs too weak to make it down the steps.
She leans on the wooden railing, glancing up at the unfamiliar stars in the sky how they look wrong, the moon shining as if taunting her, her heart twisting painfully at the sight. She sees King's teary eyed face letting go as the Collector pulls him. She sees Eda giving her a final hug and a kiss on the forehead before she leaves to their own ship. She sees the witches on the floor as the eclipse drains their magic and life away till they cease to exist. She sees Eda's lifeless body clutching a similar lifeless Raine. Her breath catches in her throat coming out in sharp, agonizing gasps, unshed tears pricking her eyes beseeching to be let out. She wants to scream, she wants to go back. She needs to go back. She claws her arms, leaving crescent marks and burning red trails at its wake, her heels digging the hardwood deck desperate to be grounded.
She wraps the jacket closer around herself hoping she gets to feel Eda's comforting embrace again, or King's soft but secure hug, or Lilith's reassuring arm squeezes, or even Hooty's warmth enveloping around her. She holds herself tight hoping to hold on to these memories longer.
It's not gone.
It can't be.
She can't take the jacket off.
She can't let them go.
Not like this.
"Please"
.
.
.
A lonesome gray cloud covers the moon, she breaks. An excruciating sob escapes her lips, tears finally flowing down her cheek, it scorches her eyes, leaving blazing trails on her cheeks, they don't plan on stopping.
For once in Luz's life, she feels so utterly hopeless.
Camila knew this was going to happen. She's seen it before. Distraction till the breakdown, and knowing her little Luz, she'd rather keep it to herself then show anyone that she's not okay. So when she hears soft wailing sounds from her open window, she already knows. She stands up grabbing a specific blanket nearby making her way downstairs.
Her mind can't help but wonder why everything seemed to cause her daughter pain. She doesn't understand why the world works that way, maybe it's a curse for being pure at heart. By the time she reaches the backyard, the wailing has eased up but the way Luz is still trembling is obvious that it hasn't passed.
She makes herself known with a light knock, making sure she doesn't startle the younger girl. She visibly sees the moment Luz tries to reign it in, but fails just as Camila wraps the blanket across her shoulders. She wraps a tentative arm around her till she practically jumps on her mother sobbing at the crook of her neck. Camila's heart swells, feeling her kid in her arms again causes her eyes to glaze over with tears. She makes sure to secure both the blanket and the jacket on Luz's shoulders as she wraps her own arms protectively around her small body. She lets her cry. She knows she shouldn't say anything. She doesn't have to. Because Luz had to do it in her own terms, she just got her daughter back and Dios, help her if she lost her again by making a mistake.
She rubs comforting circles on her back, pressing kisses on her head and squeezing her firmly when she feels the grip on her sleeve tighten.
ㅤ"I lost her again", came out more of a sob, "I lost them"
Camila feels her heart shatter. The words causes her eyes to glaze:
ㅤI lost him.
She gets it now. The familiarity of the words uttered.
Suddenly, Luz was eight again. Who ran away from their few relatives who threw fruitless condolences and empty apologies. In the same backyard crying her heart out, trying to escape the reality of the situation. A concept she doesn't fully understand but somehow that just makes the pain even more brutal. She was too young, still too young to experience what lost meant. But it seems like fate was inevitable.
ㅤ"I can't lose her again! I can't lose anyone again!" It's a plea. A plea that Camila can't answer.
She just got her daughter back but at what cost? For her to lie here broken and in grief? She could only hope her embrace will help her mend the pieces back together. But she knows that would be foolish to expect. Her tongue feels like lead for once, clueless of the devastation and loss her daughter seemingly faced. All she can rely on is her instincts, to let time heal and to let her daughter know she's here.
A few long moments pass just holding each other, the older woman decides to ease up to the questioning, but the younger girl beats her to it.
ㅤ"She's like you, Mami. She reminded me of Papi too." A parent, Camila deduced. A small part of her writhe in envy for the person who had her daughter for months but she throws the anger off her mind before it bubbles into something toxic. She inhales deeply, she's just glad Luz is loved as much as she loved her. She can ask for more information later.
ㅤ"I don't know what they're gonna to do to all of them. Willow's, Amity's and Gus' parents... We need to go back. A-and I-I know you don't want me to but-" She's cut off with another heavy sob.
Camila figured this is too good to be true. With how the children came in, there was no way they could stay. Not like this. Not when they have loved ones who are on a possible brink of death. The story is still unclear to her but that much she expects. As a parent, she should know what it's like to lose their child. She imagines that the parents are probably as worried as their children are. Regardless of their species, love will remain universal, she supposes.
Luz's sobs finally ease out, her clutch on Camila's sleeve significantly loosens, her body becoming slack on her chest.
ㅤ"I'm sorry, Mami" the younger girl whispers, she could've missed it if it isn't for the fact she's right by her ear.
Camila clicks her tongue shaking her head, "There's nothing to be sorry for, Cariño" she combs Luz's hair delicately. She tries not to be too hurt at how long her hair has grown to be put in a ponytail. It's a reminder of how long it has been and how much she missed.
She struggles a bit thinking of what to say without scaring her daughter away, "You love this person like you love your Papi, sí?" She suddenly remembered little Luz holding on to her dad's t-shirt after the day they found out about the news. The way she sat under the tree and cried, and cried until she cried enough tears out of her small body.
She feels a shy but determined nod.
ㅤ"And you love your friends here and everyone you've left behind, sí?"
Another nod. Camila finally lets out a sigh, a small, genuine smile gracing her face.
ㅤ"Then I understand."
It's three simple words that has Luz crying again but this time out of relief. She remembers the painful dilemma of having to choose between the human realm and the demon realm, between the Mami she loved and the mom, brother, aunt, girlfriend and friends she has found and chose to love her.
Camila may not completely know what happened right now, but she understands the depth of importance it is to her daughter. She just got Luz back so she's going to strive to be a better parent each moment they get.
Also, she's gonna destroy the pendejo who dared touch her daughter and her friends.