She's Not Dead

Chapter 9: Home

"Immortality?" Freya gasped.

Wendy cleared her throat and answered, her voice hoarse, "Well, you know that when my necklace was green it meant that I had a couple of lives left. When it turned red, I had one. And well, you know what happened when it turned black", slightly cringing at the memory of her death.

Death really shouldn't have been a touchy subject in their family, having experienced it so many times with their girls. Wendy remembers clearly each and every time Joanna has given birth, each time falling in love with her nieces, vowing to protect them with everything she had, only to fail time and time again. Her eyes growing wet and her breath trembling at the memories.

"But when we were in Asgard, Wendy's necklace was blue, the necklace had been a gift from our sister, and reflected her powers," Joanna added, snapping Wendy from her turmoil. She did, however, notice that the feline witch's breath was coming out in short, little pants that showed her agitation.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

The youngest woman looked at her aunt and then at her mother and repeated the motion until she screeched with happiness.

Tommy had woken up with Freya's happy screech as he had slept in one of the couches in the living room. He had fallen asleep on the loveseat closest to the unlit fireplace, vehemently avoiding the longer couch ­–– the memory of his girlfriend's lifeless body laying prone haunted him. The bags under his eyes sufficed as evidence that even if he had slept, it hadn't been particularly restful.

His mind kept replaying the moment in which he had opened his eyes and taken a new breath into his lungs just to come face to face with Wendy's collapsed body right beside him. How her stark parlor seemed paler, her smooth skin losing the glow that was always present, the warmth that hid underneath her skin, a heat that she had once told him was due to being a cat - or her kitty, as she liked to call her.

Wendy... Where was she? Was she awake?

Was she alive?

His ears perked up at the sound of several voices coming from the the kitchen, he could hear Joanna, Freya and... Wendy! He scrambled quickly and made his way to the source of the voices. As he crossed the threshold and walked into the kitchen he stopped. His feet planted on the ground beneath him, his smile grew and eyes crinkled at the corners to show his happiness just at the sight of her. Laughing with her family.

"Tommy?" And his gaze focused solely on the one his heart yearned for. The woman grinned. His breath caught in his lungs and it barely escaped his mouth in a breathy whisper of her name, so low that no one could hear it. He guessed that being able to shift into a cat had some perks since she heard him, and he knew it. Her eyes told him everything. His feet started moving on their own accord, one unbearable step at a time as he desperately tried to cover the distance between them.

Wendy got up from her seat and in the blink of an eye she was standing right in front him and he could almost feel the heat radiating from her skin. Without hesitation he extended his arms until he had them wrapped around her small waist and lifted her. His nose burying itself into her long hair, inhaling her.

Carefully he set her down, making sure to keep a hold of her. His eyes searched every piece of her exposed skin ––though not much; strangely enough–, looking for something amiss, something not quite right.

"How do you feel?"

Rationally, he knew that it was a dumb question, but what did you say to someone who gave their life for you? Who went to Hell and fought a mythical creature he did not believe in to come back? Silently he took in Wendy's appearance, the garments adorning her body were more than strange compared to her normal outfits, but taking into account the day before and the last few days in general he could not blame her, but she looked at him with those stormy eyes and a smile –– he forgot everything else, he just saw her.