Solitude

The visit was hard. Selena was still devastated about Peter, and Charlie struggled to comfort her without breaking down herself. Normally Selena would have commented on it, told her she didn't need to hold it in for her sake - but today was not that kind of day. Instead Charlie listened and helped the little as she could, for grief was something not even her powers could heal. Finally, when both of them were past the point of talking and had sat in sad, companionable silence for a spell, she raised the topic.

There was no objection, of course. A small part of her seemed to take solace in the idea that a new family would share the home, though Charlie was careful not to tell her who they were. Simply that they needed protection and once they were in situ it would no longer be accessible. In return all Selena asked was to visit it one final time, a wish she was happy to grant.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie fumbled with the old fashioned latch, rubbing her hands slightly and willing the cold to leave them. The walk through town came with a bitter wind that left her chilled to the bone, but it was worth it to ensure nobody saw her arrival. And, she thought with something approaching a smile, it was oddly fitting.

When she stepped into the house it was almost exactly as she'd seen it three years ago. There was evidence of Selena's visit before her - a few things had been moved here and there - and a small layer of dust had gathered on the picture frames. Still, smiling family photos still shone down from them, and over the kitchen the wooden sign hung proud.

"When you can't be anything else, be kind." She read it aloud like a mantra, nodding into the empty air. "I won't stop trying, I promise, it just..."

The sentence trailed into nothing as she stared at the sign. A long moment passed but eventually, rubbing damp cheeks dry, she made her way up the stairs and through a door proudly emblazoned "Kyle's Room!"

~~~~~~~~~~~

Boxes sat piled high as the last rays of sunshine disappeared below the windowsill. It had taken all day, but the rooms were packed away; books carefully catalogued, photos wrapped and stacked, the ornaments she thought had sentimental value nestled in bubble wrap. Once they were moved to the basement, she started the second phase of her plan. The bedroom gained a crib filled with soft toys, an icicle mobile and gentle lights, the wardrobe a stack of soft clothing for both baby and adult. The bathroom she filled with every luxury spa product available, the kitchen stocked to the brim with ready meals and baby formula. A large box with every possible gadget she thought they might need sat on the kitchen table.

She stood back, taking it all in. It wasn’t enough - nothing would, could, ever be enough - but it was something. A start. Without thinking her hand moved to her neck and closed around the two pendants there, one a small shield, the other an intertwined trio of sun, snow and ivy.

“I’m sorry, angel.” It was barely a whisper, yet the pain behind the words was obvious.

“I can’t forget you, not the way you wanted. But I can be here for her. I can do that much. I’ll -” her voice caught in her throat for a second before she continued “I’ll go into the cold as often as it takes. Your daughter will be safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It took a little longer to organise all the necessary safeguards. A terraced house couldn’t be warded easily, and the transport had to be untraceable; but those were things in her wheelhouse, things she knew the right people to arrange. Once they were done, there was only one thing left.

“Lucille? It’s ready.”