Send Me Away With The Words Of A Love Song ⚜ Chuck and Ana
Let it be known that Analese Hayes was furious. She was furious that the two men she would have thought would know better had done something so incredibly stupid. She was furious that she had died, that she had allowed herself to be killed and more than that, she had allowed Piper Renderos to live. She was so furious with Blake. She was so terribly furious with Chuck but most of all, she was furious with herself. For dying, for leaving them all behind, for tearing a hole in all their hearts. For waiting so long to tell him that she loved him. For being so selfish as to want to live again.
A soft sigh left her lips. Analese Hayes wanted to live, consequences be damned. She trusted Blake, trusted him to follow through on his plan, promising herself that she would help him pick up the pieces in the aftermath of it all. There was nothing she wanted more than to live. Death had only touched her, brushed over her for the briefest of moments and she had not been ready to rest.
After all, wasn't sleep for the weak? A little laugh, thick and sad, left her mouth. Hilarious Ana.
Fingertips traced over his bedside table, noting the dust. She expected a military style made bed, nothing out of place just like The Institute had taught them when they stayed there. Chaos was not permitted, at least not externally. Not on the face you showed the world. They both had fallen so cruelly into chaos.
She could still feel the tears that had fallen from his eyes as he held onto her, asking her to stay. Oh how she had wanted to stay. And he had said it. Those wonderful and devastating words. Words she thought needed no saying between them but after hearing them... She had been wrong. She wanted to hear those words for the rest of her life and her heart ached for the possibility that she might not.
Ana wanted to believe that Blake's plan would work. She had to believe that it would not.
That meant that this was cruel, if Chuck remembered when all this was over. If the twisted magic that had brought her back (and the rest of Havensdale's dearly departed) allowed for it. She wished she could be better, less selfish but all she had wanted was to see him again. She just wanted to see him again.
She turned in time with the door handle turning. Did a ghost really have to ask permission before breaking and entering? God... Her heart swelled, her eyes glossed over with stubborn tears and she ached to run to him but she didn't, not yet.
“You know, I would have thought it went without saying that if you were going to try to take care of the kid, you don't take him out on a kidnapping rampage,” a smile fought to tug on her lips, “Or bring back the dead.”
Because Most Of Us Are Heaving Through Corrupted Lungs // Drabble
“But what if I don't want to be a hunter?”
“Then you won't be a hunter.”
“My dad –.”
“Has nothing to do with this.”
“Thanks, Ana.”
It was a clear night, no clouds just an endless black sky littered with far and few stars. Had it been any other night, any other time Blake Hayes would have found a night like tonight beautiful. He would have liked to paint this sky, finding light and colour where others would simply see black. His fingers itched to wrap themselves around a paint brush, chalk pastel already smeared across his face, late for class with Scarlett asleep on the couch beside the leftover pizza. Barely eighteen in the heart of San Francisco giving it the old college try.
Had it been any other night.
Danny McReid. Elizabeth Anderson. Ava Montgomery.
All Blake had ever wanted was a nice, normal human life free of any supernatural ties. His life was going to be awesome, you know? Cool and breezy. He'd graduate college, travel around the world, pout at Scarlett as she refused to let him cave and pull out the emergency credit card. They'd get cut off from their parents, live off love and stolen hotel shampoos.
That didn't mean he hadn't felt that stupid need to protect. To throw himself into danger's path. To dig into the reports of mysterious deaths, to keep a close eye on the vampires he could sense and do everything he could within the bounds of sanity to keep his best friend safe. His best friend who he hated that he had to lie to. Blake had never kept a secret from Scarlett in his whole life. Except for the big one.
Stupid secret identity.
Theodore Castro, Bonnie Brightman, Christian Cooper.
The worst happened the day that a vampire started to sniff around her. The day that Bryce Barker walked into Scarlett's life, everything changed. Everything that Blake had been running from and denying had finally caught up to him and what his dad had been telling him all those years was true. You can't run from who you are and Blake Hayes was a hunter. It wasn't what he was it was who. It was in his blood, his family. It was who he was.
The lighter burned quietly in front of him, the flame licking upwards as if it was trying to reach the stars.
This was who he was.
This was not who he was.
Peyton Murphy. Peter Olivera. Joey Salvatore. Tessa Thomson.
Blake Hayes was a hunter and hunters make sacrifices. They have to be selfless. They had to realise that the lives of others, the lives of the millions of innocent people around the world meant more than their own. People die, and you have to keep on living because you are needed. You have to shoulder the burdens and keep on fighting. Strong is fighting.
He was so tired.
Blake Hayes was self-righteous. He cared too much. He was by the book and he never crossed the line. Life meant something to him, be it supernatural or human. Blake did not discriminate and he understood. He understood that the world was not black and white. Second chances are important. Trying your best is important. Doing everything within your power and accepting that sometimes you can't save everyone is important.
Only it was easier said than done.
“People won't say thank you.”
“That's okay.”
“That's not why you do it.”
“No. I... Have to do it. It's who I am. I need to help. I don't want to leave her.”
“I know.”
“I have to leave her.”
“I know.”
Hunter dad, human mom. Analese Hayes was the calm in the storm that was his conflicted life. When he had no one to turn too, no unbiased ground to stand on, he had Ana. She told him that he would be okay. That it would be okay. It's okay to choose. It's okay not to choose. Be a hunter, be human, be anything you want to be. She always came when he called.
How could he let her go. How could he let her die.
Blake Hayes never crossed the line. Blake Hayes would never cross the line. Blake Hayes had to cross the line.
Scarlett had sat with him, small affectionate gestures, uncried tears. He couldn't believe that she gone. He couldn't let her die. Blake couldn't process it or accept it because it wasn't right or natural or okay. He realized that you could be as moral as you liked, take the highest road but until you have suffered real loss, until you have been the person on the other side of the table, you can't understand the lengths you would go to. The lines you will cross.
Analese was his family. He loved her.
Dean was his family. Scarlett was his family.
He couldn't let her be gone.
“Are they all there?” A nod. A church full of unconscious innocent people. The people he was supposed to protect. He wouldn't hurt them, he wouldn't hurt them, he wouldn't hurt them.
“Bring back what I lost. Bring her back, bring her back now! I don't care–,” gasoline dripping across the floor, flames licking up by the door. He wouldn't hurt them.
“Bring her back or I swear to God I will burn this whole damn place down!”
That wasn't him. That couldn't be him. This was not who he was.
Blake wouldn't have recognised himself. Those weren't his words. His eyes burning, desperation thick in his voice and he was angry, so angry because he should have been there. He should have helped her. Saved her. He couldn't save her.
He wasn't aware of anyone else in the room. Of Chuck, of the people on the floor. His hands were shaking and the flames were threatening to spill over when the chanting started. He could have crumbled in that moment, fallen in a heap on the ground but he didn't.
Then the sky cracked open, the rain pouring down the thunder rumbling through the building and it was all okay. It all had to be okay. It was worth it, it was worth, it was worth.
Ana was going to be okay.
But then there was nothing. There was just... nothing.
He couldn't remember what happened next, not really. The rain and the chaos and he just fell. She was gone. She was really gone. What had he done? What had he done...
This was not who he was.
Blake Hayes and Chuck Caulfield collectively crossed the unspoken line, throwing the very balance of nature out of line and forcing good witches to tap into dark places. Thankfully-- depending on how you look at it-- one mildly amused First Warlock decided to step in before anyone could hurt themselves. Engel’s interference butchered the spell, bringing back every person anyone in Havensdale Valley had lost back. And yes, that included back to the plane of the living.
The aftermath of this event left the witches with their own burdens and while there would have been time to heal, that time was readily taken up by tear filled reunion after tear filled reunion. Or something similar (not all returns were happy returns). Havensdale had once again been thrown into chaos, however it wasn’t to last.
Ian Morrison planned to bring his brother Mark Morrison back for good, unable to live with losing him again. He reached out to Blake and promised to bring back the star of this unethical plan: Analese Hayes. Did that mean that Ian would become a Warlock? Yes. Yes it did. His plans didn’t exactly sit right with Meghan Morrison for a number of surely devious reasons and so she reached out to her friends in highly low places.
There was no thunder or lightning or rain.
Everyone who was undead and back was just suddenly gone.
Everyone who had been brought back was suddenly able to leave again.
Blake looked just as confused as Ian did when Ana disappeared before their eyes. Ian didn’t finish his spell. Someone beat him to it. Sort of. Engel brought back Mark Morrison and Analese Hayes was gone once again and it was all for nothing, right? Depends on your viewpoint.
Mark might be back and the ghosts might be gone but here is the catch:
OOC INFORMATION:
Our hihghosts event has officially come to a close. None of your humans will remember any interactions they might have had (spoiler: that might change one day). Please feel free to continue any conversations you were having, or finish up any plots or closed conversations you needed to do. Same goes for drabbles and paras. Just remember to tag them ‘hihghosts’!
Now here’s the thing about Mark Morrison. If you haven’t read his bio, what you really need to know plot-wise is that Engel brought him back but he brought him back without his memories. He didn’t want to take away from the curse he put on Evelyn so he took away Mark’s memories of being in love with her, along with the rest of them.
All humans in Havensdale who knew Mark Morrison had died, will now believe that he was in a two year coma and has only now woken up from it, with the side effect of amnesia. Those who are supernatural of course will have to deal with the whole resurrection truth of it all.
We hope you guys had fun with all the ‘surprise bitch, bet you thought you’d seen the last of me’ shenanigans! We encourage you to explore the post-ghosts effects on your characters. If they were a part of the spell how are they coping? How is their magic? Did they almost lose someone? If they were kidnapped... Do they have this feeling something happened? And then there’s all the ghostly trauma to deal with. Then finally there’s the big one to consider: what’s coming next, what could possibly happen next in Havensdale Valley, Supernatural Safe Haven.
Here was the thing: Rachel often hated being a witch. Of course she was honored to carry on the heritage her mother bestowed on her and, of course it was cool to know she was that much more special than other kids at school, and of course magic was a skill she learned to use and love. But being a witch meant extra studying-- which she was good at -- and a slight sense of ever-present danger -- which she tried to ignore -- and the constant undeniable certainty that there was something wrong in this world. Being a witch inherently meant that she had to believe in the supernatural and believe that her hometown was a social beacon for mystic beings of all shapes and sizes. She didn’t want any of that.
What Rachel wanted was to graduate at the head of her class and earn herself admission into a great Ivy League school -- any one of them, she didn’t care -- and start her life outside of town. What Rachel didn’t want was to get involved in the inner magical workings of a town that seemingly could not run without constant danger and drama. She was a smart girl, she’d watched the movies and binged the tv shows. Nothing good ever came out of getting mixed up with the supernatural. So Rachel chose to ignore it. In elementary school she learned how to be a witch in the privacy of her home. In middle school she learned how to be an excellent student and suppress her magic. By high school, she’d learned how to channel out every bit of ridiculousness happening in the town. At this point, she couldn’t even tell who was what. Sure, she could feel it, but she did her best to ignore it. Rachel wanted to be normal, and usually when a Gates woman wanted something, she got it. That was just how her family worked.
So, naturally, when she got a text in the middle of the night asking for ‘help’, it didn’t at all cross Rachel’s mind that something was wrong. Joey was often acting like an idiot, so she merely assumed he was continuing to do so. It was the words ‘life and death’ that began to pique her interest and also turn on a side of her she had been trying to keep down.
Life and death. What the hell does he mean ‘life and death’? This better be a joke. This better be a goddamn joke, Joey Salvatore, she thought as she snuck out of the house and into the brisk night air. But as the cold pricked her nose and the town’s stupid trees mocked her, Rachel began to guess that Joey wasn’t really the joking type.
She began to flex her hand and almost stopped in her tracks, upset with her own muscle memory. Don’t do that, there’s no use. You wont need to use magic because nothing’s wrong. And yet her hand kept going.
Rachel heard a noise to her right as she kept walking. Turning her head, she saw none other than Ian Morrison and past him, Jenny. The sight of them caused her heart to drop into her stomach and she knew exactly why. Witches. Panic immediately tightened her chest and she seemed to be left with no choice but to believe that something was terribly wrong. She said nothing, made no acknowledgement, and only kept looking forward, toward the church that now loomed before her.
Anxiety gripped her mind as Rachel frantically looked around for Charlene. Surely Char would have an answer for this? Just as she stepped into the church and entertained the idea of spinning back around and running back home, the scent of gasoline hit her nostrils and she saw the bodies. Bodies. Horror snapped her attention back up to the guy who was standing, shouting at each of the witches entering the church. Rachel had absolutely no clue who he was and was frustrated yet again that she knew nothing going on in this town. Someone she had no clue was yelling at her to perform magic for his own personal gain. Even the simplest request would have been terrifying, but then he opened his mouth again.
I need you to bring her back to life.
Rachel froze. She felt the unease and the tension in the air and among the other witches, but she only sensed it around her, outside her body. Everything around her seemed like a different world, and the one living inside her was pumping with terror and dread and absolute fear. She was terrified because she knew the look in this guy’s stare. It was desperation. She knew he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Furthermore, she was terrified for the humans he had kidnapped, and what would happen to them tonight if things did not go exactly as planned. Lastly, she was terrified for herself. It was selfish but she couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen to her.
Bring her back to life.
She couldn’t. It was impossible in her mind. Simply impossible. And if it were, at all, in any way possible, it would lead to something else. Something more. It would change her in the one way she was terrified of more than anything else, and the one way she swore she would never turn to.
Her throat began to close and she felt tears prickling in her eyes. When was the last time I cried? It had to have been a while ago. Maybe watching some sad movie, because Rachel did not cry in real life. She didn’t, because she kept her life sane and content and normal. Because she had hid from this side of the town for so long.
You will not cry, do you understand? You will not cry. It was something she had told herself often as a child, because she knew that sometimes all her mom needed was to know her child was okay. So she learned ways to stop crying. Rachel clenched her fists, looked up to the ceiling of the church. One tear escaped. Dammit. She tried to bite her tongue or hold her breath, but another fell out. It was no use. She had never felt so fragile.
So the tears escaped and she felt herself shake until someone grasped her left hand. Then another took her right. Looking over, they were people she recognized and knew, and while they were all getting ready to do something truly wrong, she still felt their presence comforting. If this was going to happen, it would happen together. And so it did.
Rachel closed her eyes and created magic she never had before. She felt it in her bones, in her mind, it was something so new to her. She felt it hurt. This was wrong, she knew it. She imagined what her mother would think right now, when they had silently sworn to each other that their magic would only ever be used for good. Was Rachel betraying her?
A shock pulsed through her body and she opened her eyes. The human bodies were gone. Safe, he’s safe, right? Tears continued to fall down her cheeks, but she stayed silent. Afraid. Of the guy in front of her? Of what she’d done? Of herself? She didn’t know. Without purpose and without feeling, Rachel walked out of the church, too afraid to stick around to see what had happened. She simply walked back to her house, locked the door to her bedroom door, and slept. Maybe tomorrow she would wake up and realize it was merely a dream. Maybe she hadn’t betrayed the trust of her mother and herself. Maybe she hadn’t done something she knew and felt was unquestionably wrong.
As she woke the next morning, Rachel knew with certainty that it had been no dream. It was the first step in a nightmare.
Clary, honey. How many more times do I have to knock before you come and open the door?
I know you’re in there, I saw you look out the window. Frankly, leaving me here talking to your door is just plain rude. Rude. Bae, c’mon. Don’t make me storm in all uninvited-like.
These motel beds have got to go. I need luxury. I need five stars. I... I need to take a shower. I smell. I smell like-- I smell like gasoline? Vanessa why-- Vanessa? [squinting before enduring the struggling of sitting upright] Ness what- what happened?
So much for rule number one being having the ability and skill to compartmentalize our emotions. No nevermind. This isn’t the first time someone’s thrown their toys out their cot. At least the coffee in this town is still in the same place as always.
