“ i wish you’d said something, “ she says, speaking to the open air of the old farmhouse. her niece and her children had given her the next few hours alone here, as if that will make up for decades. elsa isn’t prepared for whatever is about to happen. still, it must happen, or she’ll go crazy.
“ i would’ve followed you to the ends of the earth. you know that, right? “ she continues, placing the twinkie she’d brought as an offering on the dinner table. she has questions – so many questions.
why did he leave her? had she just not been good enough? did he think so little of her he thought she’d take the others’ side over his? he didn’t even say goodbye. he hadn’t even called her.
the younger spengler rubs her forehead. she’s wearing glasses now, and there’s wrinkles on her face and gray in her hair. helluva lot different than when egon last saw her, probably. juniper and zelda are grown by now, with only vague memories of their uncle egon. hell, she and winston had to make an agreement to never utter egon’s name in their house. it had turned into a hex purely by the negativity his name now carried. his actions had nearly cost them everything – winston lost his job, and elsa had lost a part of herself that only came back in long enough increments to take care of their girls before returning to bed.
oh yeah. they need to talk.
“ i know you can hear me. even in death you smell like that stupid laundry detergent. “
--- he can’t avoid this confrontation forever. as much as he’d like to. as much as he’d tried to, even. the time has come to face the music, and egon knows how it will end. he appears quietly, without much gusto to speak of, and idles in front of her with a sorrowful expression. she’s much older, but still recognizably elsa - the same wild hair and mildly bitter expression that seemed a genetic spengler trait. she has every right to be angry with him, this he knows. perhaps more of a right to be angry than even callie has. he’s filled with a regret that cuts just as deep as it had so many years ago when he’d driven off to this pile of dirt - heartache for things left unsaid, forgotten, and otherwise ignored.
‘ elsa. ’ he speaks her name for the first time in nearly thirty years, and it leaves him with a soft catch in his usual baritone. seeing her earlier had offered him equal measures of pride and dread. egon had been reminded of why he hadn’t told her to start with. i would’ve followed you to the ends of the earth. you know that, right? he knows, of course he knows, and it’s why he hadn’t told her to begin with. he was supposed to look out for her, not drag her into the clawing chasm of madness alongside him. ‘ i don’t expect you to understand, but i need you to trust that i had good reason. ’