Who: Nate and Reagan Where: Reagan’s House When: Late morning, Sunday, Nov 5 Status: Complete
It was kind of weird, dropping by Reagan’s house again after he’d so recently been there. Like it was becoming a thing. He was pretty sure he’d seen her more in the last month than he had in ages. And while that would normally be nice, the circumstances never were. Veronica had called him Thursday afternoon, right before the weekend rush that made it harder to get away, and filled him in on Reagan’s situation. They’d broken the curse, which should be a relief, but with it had come another strike against them, a rider curse or something else.
Nate didn’t even know what to make of it. This kind of magic wasn’t his specialty, but he’d already started to pour over the journal, hoping there might be something Reagan could use to fix things. He’d found nothing so far, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there, or that Reagan might not have other ideas. Knocking on her door, he waited for her to answer, this time with breakfast, even though it was late. He didn’t really think donuts would help anything, but they rarely hurt.
After a horrible night in the cemetery, Reagan slept fitfully before rising at dawn and trudging downstairs. She started coffee, wincing a little at the soreness of her palms. She had three blisters, one of which had already popped. Two of her fingernails had broken when she tried to dig up Baron’s grave but Reagan was too exhausted to really care. Given how vain she was about her appearance, she probably should have found her apathy alarming, but she just… didn’t. Her limp hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, and her face, devoid of makeup, was pale with dark, unsightly circles under her eyes.
Reagan knew she needed to get her shit together, that was was unlike her, and probably very “unbecoming”, a word her mother loved to use, but the weight of the world - her world - felt heavy on her shoulders and she wished she could rewind time to her birthday, when Caius told her she would be strong and move on if she ever lost him. She would tell him that he was wrong and that she was apparently weak and pathetic without him. But… he wasn’t gone. He wasn’t dead. This was all temporary, like Rost said. Or like Rost suggested. Rost… someone else she knew she needed to make amends with. She had been rude and hurtful, even though she hadn’t meant to be. But it was just hard to care about anything right now.
After making her coffee, Reagan padded into the living room where books and notes were scattered about her coffee table and floor. Most of them were Caius’s books, but the notes were her own. Scribbled thoughts and suggestions about which spells to use and what she might need. She hadn’t found anything specific about memory modification or curses yet, but there had to be something somewhere. So she lit a few candles, needing to be close to her element in hopes it would rejuvenate her, and sat down cross legged on the floor. Setting her coffee down beside her, Reagan pulled one of the heavier books toward her. It was still open to the last page she had been examining, before she was crazy and decided to dig up Baron the night before. Rubbing her tired eyes, Reagan began to read again, skimming the pages as she flipped through them.
The knock at the door startled Reagan, even though she knew it shouldn't have. Figuring it was probably her mother, Reagan unfolded her legs and stood with a soft groan before heading down the hallway to the front door. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to see Nate there. Veronica probably told him what happened already, which Reagan was thankful for because she didn't feel like explaining it again. "Hey," Reagan said, squinting a bit against the daylight, even though there was very little sun. She noted he had food in his hand and her stomach growled a little. "Did mom send you?"
Nate sighed softly at the sight of Reagan, trying to think of the last time he’d seen her this disheveled and coming up with never. It made him realize she probably needed a real meal, not donuts, but he could always go out and get her something afterwards. “No, I was just worried about you,” he told her, genuine concern written all over his face. “I brought the journal, and I thought you might need a sugar fix. Can I come in?” He knew she might not want visitors, but there weren't a lot of people who could know what she was going through right now. Nate thought he might be a little more helpful than their mother.
Her house was a disaster and the old Reagan surfaced briefly with the intent to deny him entrance, to shoo him away and tell him to leave her alone. But... the house was also quiet and lonely, full of Caius's things he had yet to come pick up - she wasn't sure if she ought to take that as a good sign or not - and Reagan could admit that maybe she needed the company. "Yes," Reagan said finally. moving out of the way for him to step into the foyer. "I've got some coffee in the kitchen if you want any." He could help himself, because she was too tired to be much of a hostess at the moment. Reagan focused more on moving some of the books and torn pieces of paper off the couch so he had somewhere to sit. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone," she murmured, shoving everything into an unsteady pile at the end of the couch.
Reagan’s house seemed to display her state of mind, wrecked in a way he’d never seen it before. His sister had always been the put together one, reaching for perfection like it was an attainable goal, not a bar set too high to ever reach. It was unsettling to see her like this, though really the mess didn’t bother him a bit. “Don’t clean up for me,” he told her, setting the donuts on the coffee table, then quickly pouring himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t mind helping himself. He didn’t even mind if the coffee was cold. “I’m not here to judge you, Rae. Sit down. Stop worrying about all that and tell me what happened to your hands.” They’d just barely caught his attention and he couldn’t even fathom what she might’ve been doing to blister them like that.
Reagan supposed she should have been grateful that it was Nate at her doorstep and not Veronica. Nate was used to messes, wasn't he? Reagan had always liked things clean and in their proper place, but the last few days had sort of snowballed on her. She had never felt so chaotic and overwhelmed before in her life and she was having a difficult time steadying herself. Reagan sat dutifully before she looked down at her hands. She would have curled them into fists to keep him from examining them too closely, but that would have only triggered more pain so Reagan shrugged and set them in her lap, loosely clasped. She could lie and say she had been gardening, but Nate wasn't going to believe that. Reagan didn't get her hands dirty if she could help it. Which probably spoke to the state of her mind the night before in the cemetery.
"I took a shovel to the cemetery," Reagan said, her gaze ticking over to her brother. "But I didn't go prepared, so I left the gloves here. I wasn't really thinking, honestly. I just thought maybe more of Baron's bones would help fix Caius's memory somehow." She wasn't sure how, but Reagan had figured that would all come later. She chuckled faintly. "I didn't get very far, obviously, and now I'm in dire need of a manicure."
“Reagan,” Nate said, taking a seat next to her. “Even if you had gloves, that air was suffocating. You could’ve never done that yourself.” If she was an earth witch, maybe, but she wasn’t. The only reason they’d managed it was working together. “Let me see your hands,” he said, holding out one of his own. Blisters were healable with magic, especially if they weren’t caused by it. He might not have his own supplies with him, but he knew exactly where she kept what she needed. “You don’t need Baron’s bones. You have Baron’s ancestor, remember? But even then, what good does it do you? Let’s find a solution before you go digging again.”
She hadn't given much thought to the air, or how it had been nearly unbearable when Caius and Nate had been digging. Even as air witches, they'd had a difficult time with it. Reagan was aware that she probably wouldn't have gotten very far without suffocating, or giving up. When Nate took her hand, she bit back the grimace at the movement, but let him examine her palm. Reagan realized she probably could have healed her hands by now. Blisters were tame, compared to real injuries, and she had plenty of salve and lotions to help ease them. But she just hadn't given it any thought since returning home from the cemetery. Her mind had been focused elsewhere. "I can't be sure Sebastian is any use to me anymore," Reagan murmured. "I feel like if there's a spell that will fix this... it'll be my blood it needs. How much am I willing to sacrifice, right? I just can't find anything, Nate. I've been reading these goddamn books for days and it feels like years."
“It might not be blood at all. Or it might be his you need, Caius’, not yours,” Nate said. “What if it’s his sacrifice? I hate to say it, but that would be a better spell. You’d sacrifice anything because you have your memories. He’s the one that can’t remember what he’s fighting for.” He sighed, pretty sure he shouldn’t lead her down that rabbit hole. “Maybe… Maybe it’s worth reaching out to other witches. I brought out journal and I can’t find anything on memory spells, but that doesn't mean they don’t exist. If you can erase someone’s memories, you can bring them back.” He had a hard time believing it was irreversible. Some things were, of course, but curses? They could almost always be broken. “Who’s Sebastian?” He asked as an afterthought.
Pained, Reagan tried to think of some reason why that wouldn't be a viable solution. Would Caius risk his life to restore his memories of her? She had no idea where he even was right now, or who he was with, if anyone. It would be easier if Reagan were the one who had to bleed, because she would do it without a second thought. But when has any of this been easy? She wanted to be mad at Nate for even suggesting such a thing, but she didn't really have the energy. He just wanted to help, and she understood that. Reagan tried to think of the other witches in town, and who might actually be able to help, but who would be that powerful? Anthony, of course, but Reagan had a feeling he wouldn't do anything to right this. Not if it meant having Caius under his control for the foreseeable future. But she would find a solution. Reagan wasn't giving up. Nate's question had Reagan staring blankly at him for a few moments before she belatedly realized she hadn't told him that the McCarthy's were Baron's descendants. "Sebastian McCarthy," Reagan said. "His mother's side... they're the Baron descendants, if you can believe that."
“Like, the McCarthys that live down the street from mom and dad?” Nate asked, even if he couldn’t imagine it was some other McCarthy family. It was just the idea that the Barons had been living next door all this time and they’d never even known. “I didn’t think Ms. McCarthy was a witch. Just her husband,” he said, rising from his seat to go get her salve from her workroom. He knew she didn’t like having her space invaded, but if she wasn’t going to take care of herself, then he was going to help her. “I’ll be right back,” he told her. “Just one sec.”
Reagan nodded. It had blown her mind that Brianna McCarthy was a witch, or at least someone in her family had been, but now that particular revelation was just muted, along with so many other things in her mind. She didn't stop Nate when he stood, aware that he was just going to get what she needed to heal her hands. She rested her head back on the couch and closed her eyes to take a moment before she heard Nate's footsteps again. She looked at him and straightened a bit on the couch so he could help her get the salve on her hands. "Brianna McCarthy is a witch," she explained, as though the conversation hadn't had any interruption. "Or someone in her family is. They just weren't practicing, otherwise we would have been able to track them down a long time ago. Sebastian triggering his magic is what set off the spell, and we already knew it wasn't his father. We could tell Sebastian had no idea his mother was a witch, or came from a line of witches. He seemed pretty oblivious."
“That’s messed up,” Nate said, returning to his seat beside Reagan and taking her hand in his to help her apply the salve. “Can you imagine suddenly finding out dad’s a witch? Or came from them? How do you even hide something like that from other witches? And why?” Nate shook his head, not even able to theorize. They obviously had something to hide if they’d been cursing the Kellys and D’Onofrios for centuries. “I guess this probably wasn’t the first time our family tried to hunt them down.” And maybe things hadn’t gone as smoothly in the past. Not that this was the definition of smooth, but at least they’d broken the curse. Reagan might not see it that way, but Nate considered it a positive that death was no longer on the table.
Reagan's brows raised and she smiled faintly before shaking her head. "I don't know, Nate. I'm sure she has her reasons. I suppose if you never have that moment when your magic finally wakes up, it's easy to keep it from other people. I've been around Brianna McCarthy plenty of times and never felt anything special from her. It's hard for us to imagine because mom was teaching us from the moment we turned thirteen." She sighed and felt her hand start to tingle where the salve was rubbed into the skin. "I don't know how much success our families had in the past. Not much, obviously. Anthony and our mother didn't seem to think we had much of a chance to fix any of this. But they underestimated us... and yet, it's hard to gloat about it right now." Reagan rubbed her thumb against her brow for a moment. "Maybe breaking the curse was a mistake. I don't know."
“It seems weird to me that there’s not more information on the past attempts,” Nate said as he finished one hand and started on the other. It was probably a good thing she’d forgotten the gloves if this had hurt enough to slow her down and make her give up. If she’d gotten too far on her own, she could’ve put herself in serious danger. Luckily, blisters were easy enough to heal. “So… I didn’t want to say this before, because I didn’t know if you could break it. But since you did… What does it mean to you that you and Caius were able to break a curse that stumped mom and Anthony D’Onofrio?” He had his own thoughts on the issue, but he didn’t see the point in getting into it before. He had little power over his mother and absolutely none over Anthony. But now there was this big question mark in his mind, along with the feeling that they’d missed something important.
There may have been more information. Reagan was aware that perhaps it just hadn't been handed over to them. The journals had been, yes, but family history wasn't always documented in the magical journals. Reagan lifted her palm to examine it for a moment. Her wedding ring caught her eye and she turned her hand to stare at the jewel for a moment before her gaze ticked to Nate. She didn't really know how to answer his question, though that probably had more to do with her exhaustion and numbness than anything else. "I don't know," Reagan murmured. "Maybe they just didn't think to use the bones, or to merge their blood together...I just... I don't know, Nate. Maybe it means Caius is going to be more powerful than his father one day. Or maybe he already is and doesn't realize it." She wasn't ready to boast about it, to claim she was stronger than her mother. Reagan didn't believe that to be true, but maybe when she mixed her blood with Caius, it had been, even temporarily.
Nate nodded, even though that wasn’t the direction his mind had gone at all. As much as she grated on him, Nate knew their mother was powerful. More powerful than Reagan. And from what he sensed about Anthony D’Onofrio, he was pretty sure the same went for him and Caius. It seemed to him that, if they hadn’t broken the curse, they just hadn’t tried hard enough. They’d found a way to skirt it, that much he was certain, even without the details. And they’d willingly passed it on to their kids, knowing full well that it would try to kill them. If that was the case, could they really count on their help now? Nate didn’t usually consider himself a pessimist, but he was willing to bet they proved useless on this curse too. “You’ve probably just got to give it some time. He’s got to be disoriented. You’re a big part of his life. Huge chunks have got to be missing. But hopefully he’ll come around and work with you on this. And you know I’ll do anything I can to help.”
Of course Reagan had given some thought to the idea that Anthony and her mother had just given up trying to break the curse. But it was hard to wrap her mind around the idea that two people were content with allowing this curse to affect their children. Sure, they had done their best to sabotage her relationship with Caius over the years, but their love for each other had been stronger than that. But the curse hadn't affected their parents, so maybe they just didn't feel as though they had as much to lose, or maybe they believed they would be able to find some kind of loophole to protect Caius and Reagan. She just didn't know, and frankly, she was too tired to put too much thought into it. "I'm trying to give it time, Nate," she mumbled. He couldn't possibly understand how difficult this was for her. It felt as though a part of her soul had been sucked out of her body. How could she function, feeling this way? "But... I guess I'm just worried that the longer it takes to fix this, the more comfortable he'll get with his life. Maybe he won't find fixing this to be a priority anymore. What do I do then?"
Nate was quiet for a moment as he thought on that, wondering what he would do in the same situation. What if there was no magical solution? What if this was it and Caius never got his memories back? Caius wasn’t his favorite person, but he knew Reagan loved him. What did people suffering from amnesia do? “Maybe… Try and start over with him. He has to be game, of course, but you had chemistry before. He loved you before. I’m sure he can love you again, provided the new Reagan hasn’t given up on showers and manicures,” he said with a twitch of his lips. “He doesn’t have to remember you to love you, Reagan. He just has to give you a chance. You’re still the girl he fell in love with, right?” She might not look it at the moment, but he knew Reagan could pull herself together eventually. Something would give her the kick she needed, even if it wasn’t him.
Reagan squeezed her eyes shut to fight against the tears that threatened. Her head had started throbbing again and she didn't want to lash out at Nate. He was only trying to help. It was just difficult to explain her relationship with Caius to people. No one really understood them, what their bond felt like, what it meant. "That's different," Reagan said finally. "God, Nate, Caius and I have done this whole thing for more than a decade. Now I have to try and get him to fall in love with me again? Jesus. I can't even be sure that this Caius is Caius. For all I know he's just a mini-version of Anthony right now. What if that changes how I feel? Who are we if we don't share those experiences and those years together? Would he love me the same way? Would I love him? I don't know." She sounded frustrated and Reagan brought a hand up to her forehead to calm herself. "I'm sorry. I'm just worn out. I'm tired. I feel like I might just... explode sometimes. I'm glad you came over."
“Yeah, I’ve been super helpful bringing you to the edge of tears,” Nate sighed. He didn’t really know what to tell her. If you took away half of a person’s life, were they still the same person? Probably not. Their decisions were the same, but the knowledge that got them there was no longer imbedded in their brain. Caius without Reagan wasn’t the same Caius, but agreeing with her would probably be more distressing. “You need some rest, a shower, and some better food than donuts. Why don’t you lay down for a bit and I’ll run out and get food. You're not going to solve it all today, but I think you’ll think better if you’re refreshed.”
Reagan huffed out a soft laugh and shook her head. "No, it wasn't you, Nate. It's just lack of sleep and food and... a bevy of different emotions." It was a little strange to have her brother there, essentially trying to take care of her. Taking care of each other wasn't something the two of them ever really did. They were independent people, capable of handling their lives on their own. Only now Reagan felt adrift and she quite clearly hadn't been taking care of herself in the past few days. Sighing, Reagan glanced around the room at the books and notes. Her hands were already feeling better. "Maybe I'll take a shower, if you don't mind getting food. I don't want to keep you here any longer than necessary. I'm sure you have plenty to do today."
This really wasn’t in Nate’s wheelhouse, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t step up when she needed him to. Reagan had never needed a lot of coddling, at least not from him, and she didn’t seem to need it now either. Just a little gentle prodding seemed to help. “I can get food,” he said, rising to his feet. “Let me know what sounds good and I’ll hunt it down. We don’t open till late on Sunday, and even then it’s a slow day.” Not that he thought she wanted him hanging around all day, but if she could use a little company, then he didn’t mind.
She had no idea what she wanted to eat. She knew she needed to, but her appetite was just non-existent. Reagan might have just suggested they scramble some eggs and make some toast there, but she hadn't gone grocery shopping in awhile, so she wasn't even sure she had eggs or bread. "Maybe just a breakfast sandwich from Moxie's?" Reagan suggested. It was simple and inexpensive, so she wouldn't feel too guilty if she wasn't able to finish the whole thing. Reagan knew she needed to get back to researching potential spells, but maybe it would do her mind and body some good to relax and spend a bit of time with her brother. He wouldn't overstay his welcome, and he wouldn't try to placate her with falsities to try and make her feel better.
“I can do that,” Nate said, giving her a smile. He might grab her something for later too, just in case she got wrapped up in her notes again. She’d function better if she wasn’t starving. He spun his keys in his hand. “I’ll be back in a bit. Do whatever feels good for yourself. Try not to think too much. You’ll get through this, Rea.” She might not think so, but she was strong. She’d eventually pull herself back together, even if things didn’t go the way she wanted them to.
Whatever felt good? Reagan sort of felt like screaming until her throat was raw was the only thing that would make her feel good right now. But a shower probably came in a close second, so she opted for that instead. Maybe she would scream in the shower and knock two things out at once. She offered Nate a small smile and nodded. "I know. Thanks, Nate." She would be okay. Eventually. All she needed was to figure out a way to fix what's been broken. Reagan didn't think she would be able to rest properly until she did. But until then, a shower and food would help rejuvenate her. After that... Reagan would just have to wait and see.