Without Me

Chapter 6

"The wolves eat outside," Finch explained, pointing in the general direction of the door. "But the witches eat over there."

"Outside we go," Lizzie said, steering them sharply away from the witches table where Josie and Penelope sat, giggling and fawning over each other as the rest of the witches watched. 

Finch didn't argue with that. The two of them found a picnic table outside to sit on and sip their smoothies. 

"Most of the wolves are cool with the witches," Finch was explaining as Lizzie was sucking the last of her smoothie through her straw. "That's Brock -" Finch pointed to the student rolling in the grass. "- Piper, Trevor, Jed -" Lizzie sat up a little straighter when Finch pointed to him. "He's our current Alpha. Um, there used to be one before him. Apparently he was pretty great. I never met him. He died before I started here."

Lizzie's heart sank when she thought of Rafael. Of course he didn't magically come back just because everyone forgot her. Wherever he was off in his prison world with his parents, he was just not thinking of his rebound one night stand. Lizzie stared at the empty cup in her hands, head starting to pound. She really meant nothing to anyone.

"I have to go," she blurted, jumping to her feet and never lifting her eyes. "Thank you for the smoothie."

She was already running in the opposite direction, catching only glimpses of the confused glances from the wolves she passed. She burst through the backdoor of the kitchen, grateful to find it empty. 

Dishes in the cupboards rattled. Lizzie was already regretting carrying around so much magic. She was just trying to keep the fact that she was a rare siphoner on the downlow, but now she was buzzing with so much energy and stress that it was ripping its way out of her.

A cupboard burst open, making her jump as plates rained down onto the floor, shattering one by one. She remembered the last time she destroyed this kitchen, back when she first met Rafael. Her dad had come in, wrapped her up in hugs, and whisked her off to the safety of her own room. He'd sat with her, listening to her talk and soothing all her fears. There was no one to do that with her this time.

She screamed around the pain in her throat, sending a wave of magic hurtling towards the tower of muffins on the counter. The sight of them sticking to the floor, sad and ruined, made her lose what little control she had left. She needed it all gone. All the magic. She couldn't stand it anymore.

She ripped open the cupboards and made it rain ceramic shards. She sent food flying, splattering the walls in disgusting colors. Knives and forks flung into the door, wedging themselves deep in the wood.

That pressure in her head was lessening. She always thought of it as a balloon inside her skull, slowly deflating until it became bearable again only to start filling back up shortly after.

Pots and pans clattered to the ground, loud enough to hurt her ears, and glasses from a nearby cart began to shake.

"No, no, no," Lizzie muttered. No more destruction. No more breaking things for a little relief. It was time to stop. 

She tried to draw the magic back into her. She just wanted it to stop exploding out of her skin. It needed to go back in.

She almost didn't realize what happened at first. She just felt a sharp pain in her hand and looked down to find bright red blood trickling from it. Her stomach turned and she glanced up just in time to see the entire cart's worth of glasses hurtling towards her.

"No!" She threw her arms up in front of her face, the glasses stopping just in time and dropping to the floor at her feet. 

She slowly opened her eyes, almost afraid to peek out at the world again. She just wanted to keep her eyes closed and let the world swallow her whole again.

Her heart dropped when she saw Alaric and Josie standing there, jaws slack and eyes wide.

"It was an accident," Lizzie said quietly. She started shaking her head and couldn't stop. Her words came out choked with tears. "I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay." Alaric stepped forward, shoes crunching through broken glass. "You're okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." 

"It's alright." Alaric studied her bleeding hand. "Josie, go get the first aid kid from the infirmary."

"I can't leave you -"

"Now, please." 

Josie reluctantly turned and left the kitchen. Lizzie was shaking now. Her eyes shined with tears as she looked up at her father.

"Are you going to kick me out?"

"What? No - of course not." 

"But I destroyed the kitchen." Lizzie's lip quivered as she looked around the mess she'd made. Somehow, it hadn't seemed as big when she was making it as it did now. 

"And we can fix it up. After we fix you up. Come on." He took her from the kitchen so she couldn't see her destruction anymore, and they waited in the empty hallway for Josie to return. 

She came finally, handing the first aid kit to her dad but never taking her eyes off Lizzie. She glared at her as if she expected her to attack again at any moment.

"I didn't mean to!" Lizzie burst after a long minute under her sister's scrutiny. 

"Yes, you did," Josie countered.

Alaric turned around, holding up a hand. "Not helping." He looked back to Lizzie. "This is going to sting a little."

"I think you underestimate my pain tolerance." Lizzie held true to her words, not even flinching when her dad rubbed alcohol into her open wound while her sister watched over his shoulder, arms crossed tight and a scowl on her face.

"Well, I don't think you'll need stitches," Alaric said as he leaned back, tossing everything back in the first aid kit.

"Just a broom," Josie laughed. 

"Our therapist is on her honeymoon right now," Alaric said, ignoring Josie. "But when she comes back, we can set up weekly sessions."

Lizzie nodded. She wasn't sure how much Emma would be able to help with all of her records and notes wiped away and a huge secret she couldn't spill, but whatever it took to make sure her dad knew she didn't mean to.

"In the meantime, we can work on some other outlets for your strong emotions."

"What? Like meditating?" Lizzie couldn't help the smile and the eye roll that came with the memories of her dad telling her to breathe as he rang that stupid bowl.

"I was thinking more like punching things."

"Oh." Lizzie blinked a few times in surprise. Her dad wanted to train her? Like he did with Hope? Was this what it was like to be on the outside? To need help and have no one there only for someone to swoop in and volunteer? "Sure. I'd like that."