fandomtownies | The Beach ; Monday Afternoon

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celia bowen

The Beach ; Monday Afternoon

After several long runs up and down the beach until his lungs ached and sweat matted his hair and slid into his eyes, Will had finally stopped running and plopped himself down in the sand, laying back and staring up at the sky. The sound of the ocean in his ears helped him cool down and calm down.

It was almost time to head back to Wisconsin. With the summer fast approaching, Will figured that Headmaster Rourke would finally let him come back now that the danger had to have passed, right? Even if he wasn't allowed to stay, he could visit and see his friends, see Coach Jericho again and figure out what was going on with the Knights, right?

The truth was, Will didn't know. He hadn't heard from anyone who had that authority since he'd been shuttled off to this weird island and with the days ticking closer and closer, he was getting a little more worried that he was just going to be forgotten.

Well, not forgotten. He wasn't just going to stay here and let things continue on. He'd leave, figure things out on his own, if he had to. Become a free agent and take down the Black Caps and the Other Team himself. He didn't have Dave anymore but he was an Initiate and he had power.

It was new power sure, power that he still didn't really know a lot about but he'd use it.

#61: IF YOU WANT SOMETHING DONE THE RIGHT WAY, DO IT YOURSELF.

See, even his dad was giving him permission. Will sighed and closed his eyes. His dad seemed so far away right now. Everything did.

[Open place and post, of course!]

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"You look like you've been busy," Celia greeted him when she'd puzzled out who the boy lying in the sand was.

She was out mostly to clear her own mind -- she'd spent most of the weekend in her room researching the ins and outs of magic in the hopes of breaking the contract, and for once the idea of staring at a page for any longer made her want to scream.

Plus, the weather was actually somewhat nice. Celia was celebrating with sleeves that only went to her elbows and a wide-brimmed hat, because she apparently was never going to really adapt to this century. At least she hadn't brought out her parasol yet.

"Do I?" Will asked, opening his eyes and peering around though he didn't sit up. Who knew sand could be as comfortable as it was? "I think most people would have asked me why I was sleeping on the beach and called me lazy."

"You're all sweaty," Celia replied easily, folding her legs underneath her and spreading out her skirts so she could take a seat in the sand beside him. "If I were a betting woman, I'd guess you've been running and probably earned your nap. I've been wrong before, though."

"Well, I guess trying to convince you that someone came up and dumped a glass of water on me is fruitless," he joked, glancing over at her. "I was running. Seemed like a good day for it. No rain or snow or candy falling from the sky."

"Careful or you'll jinx us into a rain of peppermints." She was really only half-joking. Celia sighed, leaning back on her elbows a bit. "How have you been?"

Given the last few weeks, she wasn't expecting a particularly normal answer, but then the last time she'd really talked to him she'd also been terrified of her own fingertips. She wasn't really one to talk.

Will sighed and didn't answer immediately.

"Lately, I've been doing okay," he answered honestly. "For a few weeks there, the answer probably would have been different."

She raised an eyebrow, watching him. "Were you one of us lucky ones who got to change?"

Or maybe he'd been one of the ones who hadn't. That almost seemed worse.

"I...changed," he hedged, wincing at the memory. "In a sense. I didn't have a completely new body or gender or name but I was definitely not who I usually am. It was scary."

Celia nodded. "That's how it was for me, too. I -- you happened to catch me on my first day, and I apologize for that, but I was how I'd be if I'd grown up with my mother, not my father. How were you different? If you want to say, that is." Perhaps it was private.

"Just wasn't a good person," he said after taking a moment to figure out what to say. He really hated that Dave had given him such strict instructions regarding certain things. "Bad guy. Villain. I think that would be the best way to put it without going too into things and freaking you out."

"You won't freak me out," Celia assured him, but let it be otherwise. "That must have been...utterly nightmareish to come back from. All I've had to deal with is being out of practice and having memories of my mother that didn't previously exist. It must have been horrible to be a totally different person."

"I watched what happened to me happen to my mother," he said. He knew it was vague and he was pretty sorry about that. It was just hard to think of where to start with so many things. "Are you doing better?"

Celia shrugged. "As much better as I could be, I suppose." She was still curious about what he meant, but she didn't want to pry. "It's mostly just...strange, knowing about the other me. Do you know what I mean? It'd be easier if I didn't know that somewhere out amongst other universes, there's one where my mother didn't -- die, and where I never learned to control my magic."

Will finally pushed himself up into a sitting position. He let the sand cling to his hair and shirt while his knuckles scraped the ground and shifted the sand around a bit.

"It's disorienting," he agreed with a nod. "And it's kind of...strange because I found myself wanting to know more too. I mean, I remember that he remembered how it happened but after everything went back to normal, I still wondered if that version of me was out there and if he'd ever be saved or if he'd be killed or what. I wonder about his future."

"Exactly," Celia nodded, idly drawing circles in the sand with the tip of her finger. "I mean -- I'm very glad you're you, Will, and not...the product of whatever happened to the other you. But I'd want to know how it all unfolded so as to avoid it, for you." She glanced over, offering a half-smile. "I'm not worried about regressing into the other Celia. I'm just disappointed in her, and in the sort of person my mother turned out to be."

Will watched her drawing the circles in the sand quietly.

"Maybe your mother could have changed," he eventually came out with. "The future for those versions of us are vague. So, maybe there was hope that she'd change with your influence or with the changing of time. That version of you, she wasn't her mother. She was influenced but I bet she could have changed her way of thinking as she got older."

"Maybe," she acquiesced. "It's just -- my mother died when I was five. It's odd, now, to suddenly have memories of her and to have my little-girl images of her changed, if that makes sense."

She shook her head, sending her hat wobbling a bit, and slanted a look his way. "I didn't know something happened to your mother, speaking of. I mean...prior to the accident."

That was about as much prying as she was going to attempt. If he didn't want to share, she'd start talking about how lovely the weather had been, or something equally harmless.

Will nodded and then started drawing some circles of his own with a finger. The circles eventually turned into his name before he brushed that away with his hand.

"There's a war coming where I'm from," he said eventually. He'd almost just remained silent, staring at the sand and holding it all in but something had cracked just a bit. "A bad one, I think. One that could destroy the entire world as I know it. She was...captured, so to speak, by those that are trying to destroy everything."

"Captured?" Celia repeated, watching him closely. "She's -- and they did terrible things to her?"

She could tell she was treading on very thin ice, here, in terms of what he could (or would) say. But she couldn't just leave it. Her heart was already starting to break for him, and her own stupid issues with her mother seemed so insignificant, suddenly.

"Terrible enough," he said, nodding once. It wasn't torture or anything that violent but watching his mother abruptly become someone who definitely wasn't his mother had been painful. "They kept her alive. That was about the only good thing I could say about it."

"Is she still?" Celia asked quietly. "I mean...if she's alive, there's hope yet, isn't there?"

She was pragmatic but she had to think there was something that could be done.

"No. The plane crash and all..." He trailed off and bowed his head. "She's gone but she was gone way before that happened."

Celia stayed silent for a moment, then tentatively reached out to touch his arm. "I'm so sorry, Will. I didn't realize the -- extent of what had happened. It -- was it an accident, then? The plane crash?"

She was developing some suspicions.

"It was made to look like one," he said, looking over at her. "I don't know, though. It probably wasn't."

"I'm so sorry, Will," she repeated, eyes widening in horror. "Oh my god. That's -- and what about your father?" She immediately winced and shook her head. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer any of this, I'm sorry. I just -- it helps me to think aloud about things like this, but not everyone's like me. What a terrible thing for you to have to deal with."

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