Who: Caius and Reagan When: Very early Sunday, December 3rd Where: Home Status: Complete
They had everything they needed. The grimoire pages, the supplies, the ingredients and blood. They had done everything by the book, exactly as it was written. Reagan wanted to be confident that it would work, that within minutes of his blood spilling into the stone bowl, Caius would get his memory back. They had been working at the spell for nearly an hour before they finally completed it. No mistakes, no moving out of place, or adding the wrong ingredient at the wrong time. It was a fairly gruesome spell, one full of dark magic, even to reverse the effects of the curse designed to alter Caius’s memory. Reagan felt the shift inside her, magic brimming to the tips of her fingers. The heat would have been overwhelming had she not been a fire witch, but she felt cool to the touch, even as she noticed some beads of sweat on Caius’s temple. The discomfort would be worth the end result, obviously.
Except… the end result was nothing but the candles being snuffed out around them by some unseen force. The magic tingling in her body faded, leaving them within the circle that they had drawn earlier. For a split second Reagan believed it had worked, but one look into Caius’s eyes told her the truth. The spell had failed. There was something blocking it and instinctively Reagan knew what that something was. Maybe deep down she had always known this would fail. But they had to try, right?
Reagan released a breath into the dark, the candles having been their only source of light. But she could still see him, as he had been on his knees so close to her within the circle. “We can try again,” she said simply, well aware that it wouldn’t do them any good. They could try for the next ten hours and nothing would happen.
Caius had been optimistic going into the spell. They were ready, they’d done their homework and worked hard to get to that point, and everything was set up perfectly. He recited the incantations in unison with Reagan, neither of them missing a beat, and he’d felt the same full-body tingle of magic lighting him up as they went. He’d made the small sacrifice with his bare hands, he’d cut himself how he was supposed to, he’d bled the right amount, he’d kept the Obscurities at bay while they swirled and danced in the back of his mind, everything had been right ...
And then there was nothing. Just the darkness and the sudden cold, and all the blank spots in his mind that had been there for a goddamn eternity now. He could see Reagan perfectly well since his night vision had been permanently altered, and he was distantly amazed at how calm she looked. Even though the magical heat had faded, Caius felt like there was a tight hot band around his chest, restricting his breathing. It hadn’t worked. They’d jumped through so many fucking hoops for this, and it hadn’t worked. He could feel it too, that instinctual knowledge that doing the spell again wouldn’t make a difference. They hadn’t misstepped, this wasn’t in their control.
It was just such a punch to the gut, he couldn’t agree right away. What he did do was fold over on himself, leaning over until his head was in Reagan’s lap, arms wrapped around his stomach. He felt sick and defeated, but he forced himself to try to think of what might have gone wrong. “Maybe tomorrow night, with the big moon?” he muttered into Reagan’s thighs.
Reagan exhaled softly as Caius rested his head in her lap. Her hands went instinctively into his hair, smoothing the strands down in a small gesture of comfort. She had expected him to explode, the frustration to boil over. But she could feel the defeat radiating off of him in waves and she wished more than anything that she could somehow replace it with the arrogant confidence from him that she had come to love over the years. Reagan could understand where his mind must be right now, though, and she didn't want to placate him by insisting they could make this work. He was far too smart to believe her.
But tomorrow night, or rather tonight given what time it had to be now, was a full moon. A supermoon, the only one in the entire year. Reagan had to take that as a sign to move ahead with plan b. "Yes," she murmured. "We'll try tomorrow night. Everything is going to work out, I promise." Maybe not the way he thought it would, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was getting Caius's memories back, no matter what the cost. "I could feel the magic, couldn't you? It's right there... it's just... we need that extra push."
Maybe later on Caius would explode. Gods knew there was enough tension in him to do so. Besides his little ‘incident’ several nights before where he just let the Obscurities take over, he’d dealt with all of this with a pretty damn impressive level of calm. Most of that was a cover for how he was breaking down inside, but still. It took effort to keep an exterior uncracked. He was cracking now, though he was trying to breathe through it, to push into that mindset that had gotten him this far. “I felt it,” he confirmed while Reagan stroked his hair. Maybe it wasn’t fair to lean on her so much -- she was getting cheated out of the results they wanted too -- but she was the only one he could lean on. Caius stayed still for another moment, then slowly sat up to look at her again. “Maybe ... maybe we need more people? More power behind it. Our parents, maybe? That’d be double the bloodline on both sides ...”
"No," Reagan said quickly. "No. I think we're powerful enough on our own, and honestly, Caius, I don't trust your father not to purposely fuck it up even more." Maybe that was a bit harsh, but it was the truth. She still didn't truly believe Anthony couldn't fix this the day it happened, and she wouldn't put it past him to mess up the spell on purpose to keep Caius under this thumb. "Honestly, just based on what I've read... the complexity of the curse... I'm not entirely sure you'll be able to fix this. I was hoping I would be proven wrong, but..." Reagan reached out to run her hand over one of the candles the magic had snuffed out. A flame flickered to life, followed quickly by the other candles until they were awash in the soft light of them again. "The one person who would want to reverse the curse the most would be the one affected by it, you. I think the magic has a safeguard against you. Baron was... I hate to say it, but thorough."
Caius’s brow was furrowed, and he looked pained. That was an option he hadn’t thought of -- that he was the one fucking things up, just by virtue of being the curse’s target. Which he thought might be even more reason to try and get their parents involved, but he had to admit that Reagan had a point. Anthony probably could’ve been done with all of this by now, but he’d chosen not to, for whatever unfathomable reason he had. Having his mind fractured into pieces hadn’t made Caius stronger. It had pushed him to learn new magic, yes, but only in the service of fixing this bullshit. He wouldn’t give up trying, even if they just kept failing. Caius examined his wife in the soft golden light, chewing on the corner of his bottom lip for a moment. “Do you want to try this again yourself, then?” he asked in a murmur. Caius wouldn’t have blamed her if she didn’t -- it required quite a bit of blood.
Reagan knew what was at stake here, which is why she wanted to try everything they could before she did what she had been researching. She didn't want to explain all of it to Caius right then. She wasn't sure he would let her do it if he knew. But Reagan was more than okay with letting him believe she would perform the same spell on her own. "I'll try it myself," she said with a soft nod. "It wouldn't hurt to try it with the full moon, just for that added bit of magic. Do you think you can wait until tomorrow night? Or rather tonight, since it's well past midnight." They had both waited this long already, and Reagan knew Caius was probably starting to move beyond restlessness to something else. But they had the grimoire pages, and they had everything else they needed. Now all they needed was a bit more patience.
Reagan was probably right about the moon. Every little bit helped, and magic under that kind of celestial occurrence did have extra weight. A wave of frustration rolled through him, and his fists clenched on his thighs. Caius had never been good at giving up control to anyone, and he didn’t currently have the background of trusting Reagan’s abilities to draw on. He knew she was a capable witch, it just pained him to have to step aside. “Don’t have much choice, do I?” he muttered. She was right, she was probably right. He probably shouldn’t even be anywhere nearby when it happened either, lest he taint the results by accident. Caius scrubbed his palms over his face and back into his hair. “And if it continues not to work ... can we consult with Veronica?” he asked then. They could leave Anthony out of it if Reagan really insisted, but maybe the elder Kelly could offer some insight.
If what she had planned didn't work, Reagan didn't think anything would. But she didn't want to say so out loud, not when they had just experienced more failure. Reagan knew she had to maintain a certain level of confidence, and optimism. "Of course we can," she said. "I've been talking to her already about some of this. She'll help us if we really need it." Sighing softly, Reagan reached out to take his hands in hers so she could squeeze them gently. "Let's get cleaned up and get some sleep." Caius looked exhausted. Reagan was too, but she could only imagine what was going through Caius's mind right now. “I can heal your cuts too, if you want me to.”
“I think we’re past ‘really needing it,’” Caius muttered sourly. It was a small relief that Reagan was willing to involve her mother though -- he knew how sticky that sort of thing could be. He would’ve rather handled it completely by himself than ask Anthony for anything, but he was honestly getting desperate. He would give his wife another chance to do it on her own, and then they would have to get help. Still, he squeezed Reagan’s hands gently back and nodded a bit. “I would appreciate it. I’m going to get a shower, too.” It hadn’t been a ritual that required a lot of body painting or anything, Caius just felt dirty with failure. A long hot shower, some balm for his injuries, and sleep, those were all things he needed. He paused, his grip on her hands increasing, and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry I keep failing,” he murmured with more intensity than he intended.
Reagan felt the way his hands tensed around her own and she tilted her head slightly to study him, well aware of how much Caius loathed failure of any kind. "You're not failing. You're trying everything you can possibly try. You're not giving up, and neither am I. That's not failure, Caius. This is frustrating for both of us." She let go of one of his hands and reached up to brush it over his cheek before she leaned in to press a kiss to his lips. "I'm going to get your memories back, okay? I swear on my magic." Reagan smiled a little against his lips. "Come on. I'll clean up in here if you want to go take a shower. When you're finished I'll get you healed up properly. By this time tomorrow night, you'll be whole again." She sounded confident, because she was, more or less. Reagan assumed the pricks of fear she felt were from anxiety and anticipation more than anything else.
It sure as hell felt like a failure, seeing as how nothing they had tried had worked. It continually felt like one step forward, two steps back, and while Caius was trying hard not to let it all get to him, it was taking its toll. He wasn’t whole, he wasn’t himself. Granted, he hardly knew what that looked like at the moment, but he could still feel the wrongness. Caius appreciated Reagan’s reassurance even if he didn’t fully believe it, and kissed her back softly. “I sincerely hope you’re right,” he murmured, sounding more vulnerable than haughty about it. He kissed her one more time, then moved to stand up, holding onto Reagan’s hands to give her a little boost to her own feet. This was all they could do -- pick themselves up, dust off, try again. “You can leave the mess if you want, I’ll help afterward,” he offered.
She didn't blame him for not quite believing her. Reagan knew if she were in his shoes, she would probably be skeptical too, especially given how many paths they've had to take just to get to this and even this part hadn't worked. But ever since encountering Baron in the cemetery, a gut feeling had formed in the pit of her stomach and she knew she had to listen, otherwise Caius might never be completely whole again. Once she was on her feet again, Reagan looked around and then shook her head with a small smile. "It's okay, it won't take me long. I might just get it ready for the next try so there's less prep time. I'll come upstairs soon." She assumed he might want a bit of time on his own, in case he needed to purge his frustrations without a witness. Reagan knew how much control meant to Caius, and it had to be difficult for him to realize he had none of it in this situation.
A bit of privacy was something he needed, even if he didn’t fully know that. Caius had always succeeded at whatever he put his mind to, and most things hadn’t taken much frustration from him to get there. All of this was light years beyond frustrating, and he did indeed hate how powerless and ineffective he felt. He nodded a little and kissed Reagan once more before he turned and padded out of the work room. Caius made his way upstairs to the master bedroom to strip down for a long hot shower and possibly some frustrated tears. He knew they would do their best to overcome all of these fucking setbacks, but he was really starting to worry they would never get anywhere.
After Reagan cleaned up her work room, she headed upstairs to join Caius in bed, more than willing to wrap her arms around him for as long as he wanted. They didn't do much talking, but came together in the dark, both of them craving the kind of comfort that only physical intimacy could give them. Eventually they both fell asleep, though Reagan's dreams were dark and full of fire, leaving her a bit restless feeling when she woke in the morning despite how languid her body felt from the lovemaking from the night before.
That feeling lasted through most of the day Sunday. There were nerves and apprehension, but never a feeling like she shouldn't do what she planned to do. A few times she came close to telling Caius what she had prepared, but she could never quite get the words out. Reagan knew he would probably try to stop her. Or maybe he wouldn't, she wasn't entirely sure. They were living together again, wearing their wedding rings and sleeping together, but Reagan wasn't foolish enough to believe that all encompassing love was there. That intense desire to protect each other. She didn't fault him for it. It was Baron's fault, but Caius's.
By the time the sun began to set that evening, the nerves had faded, replaced by a fierce determination that left Reagan feeling a little rather strong, at least magically. If she didn't have confidence in her abilities, this would never work. It probably helped to have a bit of extra motivation. Yes, getting Caius's memories of her to return was motivation enough, but at the same time, Reagan was aware that he didn't really understand the scope of her magic. He only knew what she had shown him since all of this happened. Reagan knew he probably thought of her as a capable witch, but she was so much more. Maybe this would show him.
She was in her work room now, wearing comfortable clothes with her hair tied up on top of her head to keep it out of the way. There were a few extra supplies in front of her. Things she had been gathering since that night in the cemetery. Her athame was blessed and clean, its silver glinting a bit in the candle light. She wasn't terribly thrilled about the blood needed, but... sacrifices had to be made. Abigail Baron's bones were in a bowl beside her, resting in some dirt she had taken from the cemetery the other night. She could feel the heat radiating off the dirt itself, which was fascinating, and also encouraging.
Reagan heard footsteps and looked over to see Caius in the doorway. She offered him a small smile. "Almost ready. How are you feeling?"
Caius had drifted through the day feeling kind of bereft and vague and useless. He’d bitten his tongue a hundred times on asking Reagan if he could help, if there was something he could set up for her or ... something. He was so very uncomfortable with having so little control, but he didn’t want to get pathetic or make Reagan feel like he doubted her abilities. It was worth a try, having her do the spell again, and at this point Caius would try anything.
Except when he stepped into her work room and took in her setup, it looked a bit different than it had the night before. The bowl of bones and dirt especially caught his attention -- he was fairly certain he knew whose bones those were. “A bit nervous, but all right,” Caius answered her question, giving her a faint smile back. His eyes swept around her circle again. “Changing it up a little?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral. It wasn’t a criticism, he was sure Reagan knew what she was doing, but he was curious.
Reagan glanced over her towards the circle, aware that he would recognize some of the changes she had made. The candles were fresh, the wicks having already been dipped in blood from the small cut she'd made on her palm earlier. At the moment she was tearing a handful of mallow into smaller pieces to place inside the bowl holding Baron's hand. The mallow would help with the summoning, making it easier to keep Baron in place while Reagan communicated with her. The circle Reagan had drawn on the floor would help keep Baron chained to the room as well. Reagan wasn't taking any risks here. If all went according to plan, once Caius had his memories back, Reagan would send Baron back to her grave and that would be that.
"You could say that, yes," she said, looking back over at Caius as she dumped more of the mallow over the bones. "It's okay if you stay and watch, but you need to promise you won't interrupt." She picked up the bowl and carried it to the drawn circle, crouching down to settle it north facing. With that finished, Reagan stepped back to the table to pick up her athame. The grimoire was already open just outside of the circle, but close enough Reagan could read the spell. "You'll need to shut the door," she informed him as she stepped back into the circle and lowered herself to her knees. "It might get hot, but I think you'll be alright." He was an air witch, so he would have no trouble breathing through it if the heat got too unbearable.
Caius watched her, his palms itching to take over, to set everything back how it had been, because that was what the spell called for. Or at least to question her reasoning on every change. But his version hadn’t worked, so he had to step back and let Reagan make her modifications and see what happened. For some reason her request that he promise not to interrupt made him a little uneasy. He wouldn’t have done that anyway, it was dangerous, but Reagan asking made him a tiny bit more nervous. Caius reminded himself that this probably wouldn’t work either, and the pessimism was weirdly comforting in the moment. “You have my word,” he answered, watching her settle in. “As long as you think I won’t accidentally sabotage anything...” Caius closed the door and went to find a spot to sit against a wall that gave him a good view but gave Reagan plenty of room.
She had his word, but that was because he thought she was just performing the same spell with some minor modifications. Once he realized what she was doing he might forget his promise, but Reagan would deal with that moment if it came. She didn't want to hurt him, but she would, for his own good. With the door shut, Reagan settled comfortably on her knees and lit the candles around her, watching the flames spark to life all at once. Having her element so close to her was comforting in the same way it was comforting to have Caius there. Exhaling softly to get rid of those lingering jitters, Reagan lifted the athame. She would have to summon Baron and control her before starting the spell, and that was the dangerous part. Dangerous, but exhilarating as well. Reagan could perform dark magic and had, but she had never summoned the dead before. Caius had done plenty to further his own abilities and power, so... why shouldn't she?
She kept her gaze on the bowl in front of her and cut into her palm. It was painful yes, but Reagan kept her focus, taking the athame in the bloody palm to cut into the other. Blood began to seep from the wounds and Reagan set the athame down beside her before squeezing both hands over the bowl of bones and dirt, watching as her blood dripped down on top of them. Reagan began the incantation that she had taken from her mother's grimoire. The blood began to sizzle on top of the dirt, mallow and bones, steam starting to rise from the bowl. A breeze brushed against her, causing some loose strands of dark hair to flutter about her face. The candles threatened to go out, but remained lit. The Latin had been difficult to master, but Reagan thought she was doing all right. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her, threatening to erupt but she kept it under control. The mallow began to shrivel and die on top of the bones and Reagan knew it was working. She finished the summoning in English, as her mother had noted in the grimoire. "I call to the Keeper of the Gate to release Abigail Baron from her earthly chains. Bring her to me!"
Her hands were covered in her blood now and Reagan used her bloody fingertips to quickly draw the proper symbols on the floor in front of her, within the circle. The temperature in the room seem to rise, but it didn't bother Reagan. It was a sign that the spell was working. She sat up straight and watched the bloody symbols on the ground start to sizzle and steam just as it had in the bowl. Reagan lifted her gaze to look at Caius, and just as she did so, she felt a force slam into her body, causing her back to arch and her head to snap back against her neck. The feeling that she might burst apart was intense and Reagan gritted her teeth to fight back the feeling. She would not allow a full possession. She needed to maintain control. "This is my circle. You are my servant," Reagan told Abigail through gritted teeth. The spirit inside of her struggled before everything seemed to settle and Reagan could breathe again, the tension in her back relaxing. Her eyes were black now, her skin pale. Reagan felt like she could float away if she really wanted to. The intensified power was... hypnotic and almost stole her focus. She looked at Caius, could see him so clearly now. "That's him," Reagan said, but her voice was different, an echo of herself as Abigail's voice mingled with her own. Reagan felt her lips twitch. "You're so handsome."
Caius didn’t realize what was happening until the Latin incantation started. He knew enough Latin to recognize some of what Reagan was saying, and it was not for the spell they’d performed the night before. The last part solidified his decisions, and a small “no” came out of him as he moved from sitting on his ass to up on his knees, looking alarmed. Caius quickly shuffled in closer, his hands lifting a bit, but he didn’t reach for Reagan. Breaking that circle could be devastating, but he was suddenly terrified for her. This was dark magic, shit he rarely delved into himself. Trying something like this on the spirit of a witch as powerful as Baron’s seemed foolhardy at best, suicidal at worse.
When she looked at him with those eyes and he heard that voice, a cold shudder ran down Caius’s spine, in spite of the heat in the room. He was sweating already, though he hardly noticed. Even Reagan’s face looked a little different, and Caius clenched his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and yanking her out of the circle. Now that this was happening though, he couldn’t fuck it up. “I will fucking ... destroy you, if you hurt her,” he whispered through his teeth, all too aware of how weak that would sound to her. But he couldn’t help himself.
Reagan's smile widened. "You can't touch me. You are a failure, boy. Haven't you wondered why my curse latched onto you and not her? Because you are the weak one. She just loves you too much to show you." The smile faded quickly and Reagan released a sharp cry of agony before she was shoved forward, her hands leaving bloody palm prints on the floor. Her eyes remained black but Reagan pushed through the haze in her mind to look at the grimoire and the pages they had used the night before. She began to speak, reciting the spell as clearly as she could with Abigail pulsing in her head. It felt as though fire was licking along her spine, threatening to erupt and burn everything down around her, including Caius. She needed to be careful. Baron's spirit fought against the barrier in Reagan's mind, forcing her to stop and gasp for breath as her lungs seemed to seize. You won't win the voice whispered in her mind. And Reagan knew Abigail was probably right, but only if Caius interrupted the circle, and she knew that's what Abigail was trying to do. Bring him in, ruin the bindings and release her. Reagan struggled to breathe, mostly to tell Caius to stay away than to keep herself conscious. Blood began to drip from her nose, but she barely noticed. She wasn't going to let go. Not yet.
Caius recognized that Baron was trying to bait him, but it still got under his skin. If he hadn’t felt like so much of a failure in the past month or so, it would’ve been easier to let it roll off his back, but it wasn’t. It didn’t bait him enough to break the circle though, he just bared his teeth at her and wished hard that he could rip her right out of Reagan’s body and strangle her out of existence. But when Reagan began to really fight to breathe, and he saw the blood coming out of her nose, panic took over. Whatever she’d planned, whatever she was risking to fix him, it wasn’t worth her dying over. He might not remember all of her, but the idea of Reagan sacrificing herself filled him with terror and dread. He was already fairly close to the invisible barrier of the circle, but he lunged forward to grab her, intending to fill her lungs with air and combat whatever Baron was doing to her insides.
That was exactly what Baron probably wanted, but it was also enough for Reagan to regain control of the situation. Her desperation to keep Caius out of the way was stronger than Baron's desire to break the circle. Even if she knew she could potentially hurt him, it was nothing compared to what might happen if Carius broke the circle and released Abigail. "No," Reagan shouted, thrusting her hand up instinctively to keep him back. A blast of intense heat and fire expelled from her hand, forcing him away. The magic seemed to hang in the air, flames dancing around the circle now to keep him back for good. She couldn't see where he landed, but she knew he was alive. Reagan couldn't stop to check on him, not now. Not when she felt the power shift inside of her. She could breathe again and Reagan straightened, strengthened by the fire that encircled her now.
She didn't need the grimoire anymore. She realized then why she needed Baron. It was her power that would stop this and Reagan began to recite the spell backward with ease, reversing the initial spell. It was like she was inside Abigail's mind, where the woman had memorized her magic back when she was living. Reagan could still feel the internal struggle, but the spirit seemed to realize Reagan was not to relinquish her control until she had finished.
You can't get rid of me Abigail's voice sounded in her mind, but Reagan continued to speak, not missing a beat even as she responded to Abigail.
I can and I will. You'll be gone and at rest again. This is over.
There was silence in Reagan's head for several moments and she continued on, the knowledge that this was going to work blossoming rapidly through her. She had no idea how hot it was in the room, but she was containing the fire to stay where it was, to keep Caius away and heighten her own power to finish before Abigail regained control.
You don't know what you're dealing with. What I can do to you. Reagan would have snorted derisively at Abigail if that wouldn't have fucked up the spell. Abigail's voice was pleasant in her head, but Reagan could hear the hint of vindictiveness, probably brought upon by fear that Reagan might actually send her back to wherever she had been awoken from.
I'll take it with me. Your magic. You've entangled ours together to save him. When you release me, I'll strip you of every ounce of magic inside of you.
It gave Reagan pause, but only for a moment. She didn't stop, but spoke more quickly, wanting this to be over, wanting to get rid of Baron and rest. Her body felt tense but otherworldly, like she was starting to float away from herself. She feared what might happen now if Abigail managed to overpower her again. Abigail must have sensed Reagan's brief moment of hesitation before she spoke again, her husky voice softer now. Would he sacrifice his power for you?
Reagan stopped, breathing heavily as she stared through the flames in front of her. She couldn't see Caius very well, but for his dark outline on the other side of the fire. For a moment if felt like maybe Abigail had won, because Reagan knew the witch was powerful enough to do what she threatened, especially if she had been responsible for the broken headstones in the cemetery. But it was a choice between losing her magic and condemning Caius to a life where he always felt less than whole. He would never remember her. Yes, they would be able to create new memories together, but it wasn't the same. His past would still be blurry and incomplete. He would still suffer. And she couldn't think about whether or not he would do the same for her, as she was doing now, even with the consequences. She loved him more than she loved her magic. Wasn't that enough?
You're such a fool, Abigail spat. Reagan began the spell again, picking up where she had paused. Her hands were still bloody and she reached into the bowl to grab Baron's bones. She was nearly done, concentrating hard on the bones and her fire. Her fire and Abigail's. Their magic was intertwined and Reagan felt like she could burn down the world in that moment if she truly wanted to. One burst of energy would be all she needed. It was tempting for one, brief second when the darkness seemed too appealing to resist. But Reagan redirected the fire into her hands instead, her voice pitching high, almost into a scream as her hands became flames, engulfing the bones. Despite the element having protected her, she could feel its pain now as the heat intensified to an almost unbearable level.
With the spell finally complete, Reagan felt the magic burst out of her and through the circle of flames, in the direction of Caius. The fire immediately fell away, plunging the room into near darkness but for the remaining candles that had nearly melted to the floor. The smell of blood and earth overwhelmed her.
Reagan knew it had worked. Knew it and she felt a surge of triumph and victory as the bones finally incinerated in her palms, turning to ash. There was a twisted sort of evil that flooded Reagan's body, pain that caused her to scream before black smoke expelled from her mouth and eyes, swirling above her before it fell to the circle and exploded into dust, much like the bones had in her hands. The room was quiet now, the heat dissipated. A long, but soft sigh escaped her lips as she finally collapsed over onto the floor, breaking the circle.
The wave of fire and heat that Reagan sent at him had knocked Caius backward, pain lancing up his hands and arms as the exposed skin on them got burned. They reddened and blistered, and he missed quite a bit of what was happening in the circle, through the haze of pain -- the kind of pain he hated the most -- and the ring of fire that now bordered Reagan’s magic circle. Her voice came through though, powerful and confident and most importantly alive. Clutching his hands to his chest, Caius struggled back up onto his knees, helpless and scared as he watched the rest of it play out as much as he could. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, he was pouring sweat now, but he was able to keep a pocket of breathable air in front of his face. He had to stay conscious, had to be there if she needed him ...
The spell reached a crescendo, and hot power blasted into Caius again. It didn’t burn him this time, at least not on the outside. It lit his brain up like fire, however, and he was driven to his hands and knees as all the memories he’d lost came flooding back all at once, an overwhelming rush of sights and sounds and smells and emotion. Caius was crying within seconds, it was just too much intensity at once. He heard Reagan scream and forced his head up in time to glimpse the black smoke before it was gone and she fell like a rag doll.
“Reagan!” he cried rustily, tears still streaming down the tight-feeling skin of his face. The magic was gone, the circle was broken, so Caius hurried to her, still on his knees as he started to gather her up into his arms. It was agony to touch anything with his burnt hands, but Caius barely felt it. Reagan was his world, his entire universe, the only thing that mattered. She was still breathing, so that was a relief, but he instinctively pushed more pure oxygen into her lungs as he brushed hair out of her face and cradled her close. “Reagan, baby, come back to me,” he whispered as he patted her face.
Reagan heard his voice distantly, felt his hand on her face in a vague sort of way. Her body felt as though it had been slammed into by a semi, sore and bruised inside and out. Some part of her wanted to curl up and sleep for days, maybe forever. But she wanted to see Caius's face more, wanted to know that this had all been worth it. It felt like she was drowning, but frantically clawing her way to the surface to breathe, and she could feel the oxygen pushing into her lungs. She inhaled sharply when she finally managed to open her eyes. Her vision cleared and Caius came into view, causing her to forget the lingering pain throbbing throughout her body. "Did it work?" she murmured. Reagan remembered feeling the magic project from the circle, had known it was the right spell, but she just needed to hear it from him.
The relief he felt when Reagan opened her eyes and focused on him was immense. For one terrifying second, he worried that the spell might have reversed itself, and she would be the one with no memory of him. But there was recognition in her gaze, and the question, and Caius’s eyes were still streaming and he couldn’t care at all. “Yes, yes, it worked, I know you again, I’m here,” he told her in a rush, doing his best not to outright blubber. The love he was feeling for her was all-encompassing, that desperate need to protect and worship her feeling like it was ready to burst out of his chest. He’d been hit with the full brunt of over a decade of falling and being intensely in love with Reagan Kelly, and now there was a huge surge of gratitude to amplify it. She’d saved him, all on her own. Caius bent closer to cradle her body more to his, like the contact alone might heal her. “What can I do? What hurts?”
It was damn near impossible to stop herself from bursting into tears in that moment. It wasn't because of the pain, though there was plenty of that. But hearing Caius say that he remembered her, after so many weeks of despair and uncertainty, triggered something deep inside of her that she couldn't even been to describe. It was relief, and love and so many other things that no one would be able to understand but the two of them. The sacrifice hadn't been for naught. The adrenaline from the spell casting was beginning to wear off and Reagan was starting to feel the intense pain in her palms from where she had cut herself with the athame. She was starting to tremble and Reagan lifted her hands to show him. She could already tell she wouldn't need stitches, but she definitely needed something. "I need to clean up," she told him, her voice shaky from the tears and everything else. Reagan moved to sit up a bit better against him. "What about you? Are you okay? I don't... did I hurt you?"
They weren’t the worse cuts he’d ever seen, obviously, but Caius knew just how much palm-cuts hurt, and they were still sluggishly bleeding. Healing wasn’t his forte, that was more Reagan’s, but he knew what she used on him all the time for things like that -- and Caius couldn’t get over how incredibly good it felt to know that. Because he knew it from remembering the dozens of times Reagan had healed him. He could remember the soothing tingling of one of her balms on his wounds like it was happening right that second, it was so vivid. “Careful,” he murmured as she sat up straighter, keeping his arms in a supporting position. If he hadn’t been burned, he would’ve just picked her up, but Caius wasn’t sure he could carry her very well at the moment. “Just some burns, it’s nothing,” he assured her, even though it wasn’t. Caius was far more concerned with Reagan at the moment. “Do you think you can stand? We’ll get you in a bath and put something on those cuts. ... fuck, I -- I love you so fucking much,” he murmured in a rush. Caius cupped Reagan’s face in his hands and kissed her, unable to help himself for another second.
It was amazing how Caius kissing her could make her completely forget about the ache in her palms, and the throbbing in her body. She could taste the salt from the tears on his face, and her own, and Reagan let herself linger in the moment. Despite still being intimately compatible when Caius had been missing his memories, there had always been something missing, a deeper spark that had always been there when they were together before all of this happened. Reagan felt it again now, years and years of history and emotion poured into one simple kiss. She nearly sobbed again, but held it together as not to interrupt the beautiful sensation of Caius's lips against her own.
"I love you too. More than anything," she murmured against his mouth. When they parted, Reagan rested her cheek to his before pulling back to look at him. "Let me see the burns," she told him, reaching up to brush away the wetness at her cheek with the back of her hand. Caius had brushed it off quickly when she asked, and she knew he had been more worried about her, but she needed to see how badly he was hurt before she did anything else. Reagan was aware of the kind of force she'd thrown at him, her desperation to keep him safe dangerously powerful in that moment. He might need tending to just as much as she probably did. Maybe more so.
Once he’d done it once, Caius just wanted to keep kissing her. All night long, preferably. Naked, in bed, with nothing at all between them. He knew their physical bodies had different needs at the moment, but that felt so goddamn inconvenient when her lips felt like absolute heaven against his own. Much more than he’d felt in over a month now, despite kissing her many times. He couldn’t define it in words very well, but there was deep emotion that had been missing along with his memories of her, and looking back now, he couldn’t believe how numb he’d felt without realizing it. Reagan was his heart, and now he had it back. He obediently brought his hands around to show her, turning them over so she could see the blisters on his palms. “It was so stupid,” he muttered. “I could’ve killed you, I’m so sorry. It was just ... you couldn’t breathe, and it was instinct.”
The reddened, blistered skin caused Reagan to sigh softly and she would have taken his hands in her own if hers hadn't needed bandaged as well. "I could have killed you," she countered, brushing her thumb gently against the side of his hand as not to touch the burn itself. "She was wandering the cemetery. I saw her one night and Rost seemed to confirm it when I asked him." Reagan drew his hand up to her lips where she kissed the tips of his fingers softly. "I know I should have told you what I was planning, but I wasn't sure you would let me go through with it. I have a salve upstairs that will help the burn. The blisters might take a while to heal..." She might have been able to do more, but Reagan wasn't sure she was quite prepared to tell him about the hollowness inside of her. The part of her that was missing now. She felt it so acutely that if he hadn't been there as a distraction, she might have gone mad already.
In his flood of memories and emotion, Caius had all but forgotten that Reagan had changed the plan and gone her own way. Which meant she’d been deceptive about what spell she was actually going to do, but he couldn’t be upset about it. She was alive, and it had worked, so how could he fault her? “You’re absolutely right I would have tried to stop you, that was so foolhardy,” he agreed, leaning in to kiss her again, her lips and then both cheeks. Gods, he just wanted to cover her with as much love as he could in that moment. “But fuck’s sake, Reagan, you did it. And you’re okay.” He lightly cupped her face again, ignoring the pain in his hands, and his eyes went black for just a brief moment as he glanced her over. There was no sign that Baron was still hanging around, so that was good. He wasn’t up to the task of exorcising her just yet. He didn’t look long enough to notice the lack of glow around her. “You’re okay,” Caius repeated as he mentally tucked the Obscurities away again. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs and lick our wounds.”
She was okay, but Reagan wasn't sure how fine she was. She already knew what she had lost, what Baron had taken, and she wasn't allowing herself to fully think about it yet. She had Caius back, and he was whole and happy, and that was the end game here. Reagan held her breath as his eyes turned black and she knew he was looking her over with the Obscurities. When his eyes returned to normal Reagan exhaled again and moved with him to get to her feet. Her knees were a bit weak and her stomach churned for a moment but then she felt okay, like she would make it upstairs without incident. There was a heaviness lingering in her workroom but Reagan deliberately ignored it, unwilling to think that she might not ever use it again for magic. It would need cleaned up, but that would come later. "Other than your hands, how are you feeling?" Reagan asked him as they left the room together, her leaning on him as much as she could without hindering their steps. "Does anything feel off? Headaches? I couldn't be sure if your mind healing itself would be painful or not."
Caius was right there to support her as much as he could, his arm around her back as they shuffled out of the work room. He felt some of the heaviness in the air too, but he wasn’t focused enough on it to suss out what it meant. He was focused on getting Reagan comfortable somewhere and her cuts treated and bandaged, and letting both of them finally fucking rest. It was over now, he could feel that much inside of himself. The curse was broken, and he had his full mind back. His beautiful, powerful, amazing witch wife had done it. “No pain,” he confirmed for her as they headed toward the stairs. “It’s just kind of ... overwhelming. Like everything came back at once, simultaneously, it’s all so ... vivid. But I feel good.” He was glad to have something else to give his attention to, otherwise he felt like he might get pulled into that rushing river of memories and drown. “Are you all right?” Caius asked, glancing over at her. “Besides your hands, do you need anything else?”
That was a relief to hear. Reagan had worried he might suffer from a migraine or something worse as his mind tried to readjust to all of those memories. But he said he felt good and she believed him. The stairs felt a bit intimidating given how she was feeling, but Reagan's desire to change and clean up her hands overwhelmed the urge to just lay down and sleep on the steps. Caius would carry her before he let that happen, but his hands were a mess as well. "I'm okay," she promised. "A bit worn out and sore, but she didn't do much physical damage." Releasing a soft laugh, Reagan shook her head as they walked upstairs. "I just want that to be it. I want it to be done now."
Caius was similarly relieved that Reagan wasn’t in any other pain, or didn’t think any other damage had been done. He knew the spell had taken a lot out of her, he could sense how drained she was, but it almost felt too easy that neither of them had been seriously injured. Sure, his hands and wrists were pretty sure they were seriously injured, but he could fix that. “Me too,” Caius agreed in a murmur as they reached the top of the stairs. It had better be over. He got Reagan into the bedroom and sat her down on the bed, then went to the bathroom to rummage around and find her healing supplies and enough bandages for both of them. He went back and joined her on the bed, spreading it all out. Ignoring the tight stinging in his own hands, Caius started to gently clean the blood off of Reagan’s so he could get the balm on there and wrap her up. He just wanted to take care of her and let her rest.
Reagan stared at her hands as Caius gathered the supplies to bandage them up. Usually she could feel the magic pulsing through her blood and skin. She had been born with it even if it hadn’t manifested until she was a teenager. It was as much a part of her as breathing, and now it was gone. She felt so undeniably... normal. Horribly normal. What would Caius say when he realized? Reagan knew she ought to tell him but she was just so tired. And honestly, she didn’t want to deal with his reaction. He had always admired her power and now it was gone. Would it change how he loved her? Reagan felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest but she was momentarily distracted when Caius returned with what they needed.
She was silent as he wiped away the blood on her hands and Reagan only winced once or twice as the salve was spread over the cuts to help them heal. When her hands were bandaged, Reagan picked up the jar herself and took his hand in hers to start work on the burns. “You may have to keep from doing anything too strenuous with your hands for a day or two,” she murmured. “These burns are pretty bad. If I thought you would listen I would suggest the hospital.”
Caius watched in turn as Reagan doctored his hands. What a pair they made, both of them with bandage-mittens, taking care of one another. He seemed to remember everything from the past month clearly, so he recalled easily the way she’d taken care of him after he’d given in to his despair and let the Obscurities run wild. It was so strange to remember how he couldn’t appreciate it enough at the time, not like he did now. Caius gave a soft huff at her words and a rueful shake of his head. “Yeah, you know me better than that,” he agreed in a murmur, briefly brushing his thumb against her fingers. “They’ll be all right.” They hurt like hell, but Caius had a very high tolerance for pain, and he was still riding high on getting his memories back. He was whole again, some burn blisters were no big deal at the moment. “But I’ll take it easy. I don’t plan on doing anything but being with you for as long as I can manage it. We need a fucking vacation.”
They would be all right, mostly because the salve she had spread over them would heal him fairly quickly. He might have the blisters for a bit, but they wouldn't hurt. Reagan wrapped the bandages over his burns, trying to remember the last time she felt so elated and so full of despair at the same time. She had Caius back, fully, and that was the most important thing. But... Reagan gave him a small smile as she finished up. "What's magic without a little bit of pain, right?" She brought her hand up to run her fingers through the hair just above his ear. "And I think we should definitely make plans to get the hell out of here for a while. I don't even care where we go. I think we've earned a break. I just want to be with you. I don't care where that is."
Now that the nursing was all done, and that cooling tingle was working on his burned skin, Caius shifted around so that he was sitting right next to Reagan. He put his arms around her and pulled her in close. “Agreed,” Caius murmured. He kissed her cheek, then her temple and then her hair. He let his lips linger there for a moment as he breathed her in and closed his eyes. “I’ll make arrangements tomorrow,” he said softly. “We can be gone within a couple of days at most.” It was the busy time of year at the marina, and Caius had a feeling his father wouldn’t be too happy with him bailing out for a week or so, but Caius thought he and Reagan had more than earned it. Not only that, they needed it. He still felt a bit disoriented, and he wanted to spend time with Reagan without a single distraction.
His arms and his lips felt like heaven against her. It wasn't like he had been missing all this time, but in a way it felt like he had. Reagan could feel the emotion radiating from him now, everything that had been missing only hours before. And now there was nothing she wanted more than to take off with Caius, put Point Pleasant in their rearview and escape for a while. Reagan could put Emma in charge of the shop if she had to. It would at least keep her mother at bay for a bit, and she and Caius could both work on healing from all of this. "I'll be ready to go whenever you are," Reagan told him. "The sooner the better." She pressed her cheek against his and closed her eyes to breathe him in. "How does it feel? Having everything back? Do you remember the last month or so?"
Caius thought he could probably stay with his cheek pressed to Reagan’s for days. He wanted to take them somewhere warm, away from winter and Point Pleasant and everyone who was here, and just spend days in bed with Reagan. Preferably with some tropical breeze rolling in through a window over them. Even though they hadn’t been that physically separated, he felt like he’d spent the past month on the other side of the world -- or in some other dimension, every word and encounter coming through the haze of memory loss. He was really back now, and Caius never wanted to leave Reagan again. “It feels ... like a relief, but it’s all ... kinda there and equally vivid. Like I just watched a movie of my whole life all at once,” he said, trying to find a description that wasn’t just ‘overwhelming.’ Caius gave her a gentle squeeze. “I do remember, yeah. Fuck, it was so ... numb,” he whispered. “My life is so colorless without you.”
Reagan didn't need Caius to tell her that it was overwhelming, as she figured as much. He was handling it fairly well, all things considered. "I bet it was a pretty good movie," she teased softly, smiling against him. Reagan could only hope he wouldn't hold anything that had happened in the past month against her. She knew things got tense between the two of them a couple of times but she had been trying to find her footing as much as he was. Pulling back, she looked at him, wishing she had the words to convey how she felt. Verbal communication had never been their strong point. It was always emotion that they reacted to, given how in tune they were to one another. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't care what happens, or who tries to get in our way. I can't lose you anymore."
Caius gave a soft huff and a smile -- it was a damn good movie, as far as life-movies went now that the highlights were back in place. Caius loved magic more than he loved most people, but it was kind of incredible how empty his life seemed without Reagan. He hadn’t remembered her, so he hadn’t known that for the past month, but now he did, and it just reinforced how much he adored her. He gazed back at Reagan with intensity in his dark eyes, one bandaged hand coming up to cup the side of her face. “You won’t have to,” he murmured, feeling and promise behind the words. “I will fight anyone and anything to my dying breath for you. Just like you fought for me.”
She didn't doubt him. It was how they had always felt about one another, even when they were apart. It felt like a never ending journey to this moment, constantly marred by debris and detours. Reagan just hoped the road was clear now, that they could just be happy and focus on their future without something, or someone, getting in the way. "I love you," Reagan murmured, resting her forehead against his before she kissed him softly. "More than anything else. I just want to put this behind us now and start over fresh. If I have to hear the name Baron one more time I might scream."
Caius gave a soft, dark chuckle and kissed her again. “Same here,” he murmured. “For all of it. I love you more than anything.” He pulled her into another gentle hug, then let go and stood up with a soft groan to start getting undressed. “For now ... I don’t know about you, but I feel like I could sleep for a couple of days,” he admitted ruefully. Most of his brain was still spinning, and he felt a bone-deep sort of exhaustion, but there was plenty of relief mixed in there too. Barring some other nasty surprise, it was over and they’d won. Caius knew he would be holding his breath for a while, but he felt whole again, and he had Reagan, and they were curse-free, and that was enough for now. He just wanted to climb into bed and hold his wife until they both got some much-deserved rest.