Domina Mater

“He was.” Leo concurred, still to this day he was the best he had ever known. The thing that pained him the most was that he had only realised that once he was gone. Wasn’t that how it always went?

“Been too long since I’ve been here.” He admitted aloud to her, sure she would know nonetheless that it had been running through his mind. Mary just had a way of knowing what he was thinking even when he refused to share it. 

“I was talking about you.” Mary’s eyes moved from the stone to his, her gaze filled with a kindness many didn’t get to see. It carried into the way her hand rubbed his back the second the words left his lips. “The pole is here, but the wires go everywhere.” She said with a forgiveness in her voice that she knew he needed. 

Mary wasn’t the devout her name made her out to be, she couldn’t quote the word and the only wings she ever had came off about a minute in. But she believed in Leo Davis, and she knew Jerry did too.  “You don’t need to be standing here to make the call.”  Jerry, Louis, Dante, sure they were here but they were also everywhere. In the people and the lives they touched. 

Leo made his way along a path he walked many times before in the passed, three rows away from the crematorium, six stones to the left. His visits to his father’s grave had been more frequent in the first few months after the man’s passing, when he tried to be the dutiful son to make up for all the ways he had let him down when he was still breathing. 

Much like Jerry had feared when he spoke of Leo moving out, he only visited now on holidays and his birthday. 

Ridding himself of the last of his reluctance, he knew he could only avoid the it for so long that day. Joining Mary at her side, he placed a hand on her lower back, telling himself it was to steady her but knowing it was to steady himself. Despite all the years that had crawled by without Jerry behind that bar, he still missed him every day. Fleeting moments most of the time, but others he sat up late drinking into the small hours still haunted by the fact he had no answers. 

“Hey old man, been a while.”

Mary welcomed the arm around her, mirroring the gesture with a hand taking it’s supportive spot on his back. Remembering what the loss of his father had done to the man beside her. Last time she saw her mother she was still a kid stealing her sister away in a carrier, and last she heard of her father he was only coming out of jail to head back in same as always. If either of them turned up dead, she doubted she’d feel anything close to what Leo did for Jerry.

He had been the only adult in her life who made it feel like the world made sense, someone she could look up to instead of down or across at. It was a feeling she never had again. Still it isn’t half what Leo had gone through. The moment Jerry left the world, it was like it tilted itself onto another axis and never really went back to the way it was. 

At least Dante would be in good company. 

“He’s a good man.” 

“Just give me a second.” Mary called forward. She’d been slipping out of her shoe since the second her heel first slide into the damp grass. Placing her hand flat on the top of the stone next to her without looking at the writing etched in it, and tightened the strap on her ankle with it’s help. It had been a couple years since they’d been here, but every time they came they relived every death. It soaked into their skin the second they walked through the gates. 

Her eyes drift to the carving, and she lets out a small chuckle at the name. Nostalgia and longing washing over her as stared the word Davis straight in the face. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve helped a stumbling fairy would it Jer?” She thought outloud, affection pouring out in every word. She wishes he was here, wishes he could see his son, his grandson, his granddaughter. 

“Yes. They’re safe. You took good care of them. Everyone’s fine.” He reassured, shooting Mary an actual smile, not his fake one for work. “They’re okay, Mary.”

You took good care of them. She almost laughed, not sure if he was joking or patronizing or if he was just that optimistic. She’d been upstairs painfully caught off guard while they scrambled like chickens with their heads cut off beneath her feet.

 “I’ll have someone from the clinic come and check everyone there. I want everyone to stay there. If they’re going to the hospital I want them to go in pairs.” Mary said moving her hand to sweep again and the way her grip on the broom grows so tight she can almost feel it’s urge to bend in her hands causes her to stop. 

There are too many feet of water above her head to breathe right now, too many directions she feels the need to swim in, too many people to check on and if she loses it now she feels like they’ll all drown beside her. “I want to have a meeting with them, see for myself how they are. I just need a little time.” 

That was the difference between them – Wendy was exhausted. It wasn’t often at her brain slowed down, always noticing things and observing, but at the moment it was just run down. She had been milling through scenarios, what-ifs, and what -ifs-to-come every second since that bomb went off for every single person that she cared about. If there was a way for her to safely fall asleep on the pavement at that moment, she probably would have taken the opportunity. 

“What if it’s one of us next, mum?” she asked softly, as if she was scared of voicing the potential, as if some higher power would hear and decide that it was a good idea.

There’s nothing telling us it won’t be, Mary thought turning back to empty her dust pan of glass into the bin. George underestimated James, to some extent she’s sure they all had. This was brilliant, calculated and impactful. She expected something, you couldn’t burn down a man’s home and feel that it would go encountered but this was patient and well thought out. James had not just countered, he had elevated the stage. 

Mary moved back to sweeping pushing the bristles harder into the ground until they bent and moved the shatters into the pan. The tightness in her chest refusing to let her breath or look Wendy in the eye again. 

What kind of mother was she when she couldn’t tell her children they were safe? What kind of mother was she when she wasn’t sure she could protect them? What kind of mother was she when she left James walk out the door in the first place?  

There’s a lot going unspoken right now, but the heaviness and unsure nature of her silence was deafening. 

Wendy considered lying for a moment; assuring her mother that she had slept so it would be one less thing for her to worry about in the fallout of what occurred on the scorched pavement she was standing on. But the truth was that no, she hadn’t slept. Even if she had gotten herself to settle after getting Alfie to sleep, she would have been racking over memories of the last war when she was a child. And even if she hadn’t been thinking about that, Renee’s words hadn’t stopped echoing in Wendy’s mind since they were spoken.

“No. No, I didn’t,” she swallowed. “Did you?”

Mary shook her head, not surprised that her daughter had been as restless as she was. While Wendy sat up in her room with her child, Mary had only been feet away with a gun in her hand attempting to do the same. It was the first time in a long time where she and presumably everyone else around her, had zero doubts about whether or not she would use it. “I’m not tired.” She admitted, almost sounding surprised at herself. Mary was feeling so many things that tired just refused to register. “I suppose it’s the same for you.” They were both mothers now, sleeplessness was almost a synonym. 

JJ held his hand over the top of Mary’s, pausing her action of sweeping the glass away. 

“I’ll do this, Mary.” He said quietly. The mood was somber, barely any smiles anymore. Even his appointments had been cancelled because no one was venturing into Neverland for a little while. “Please.”

“Are the girls safe?” She asked over her shoulder at him, eyes steady looking at the placement of his hand. “Are they at the Hollow?” 

Wendy knew that she would have to walk past it at some point, but she hadn’t expected the aftermath to still be so obvious. Her gut drops as she approaches the shell of the car, the sick twist of metal. It’s gruesome in the light of day, she can only imagine what it was like with smoke and fire eating at it uncontrollably. She feels a stab of shame for the way she treated Renee the night before, even if she felt the girl had been out of line…

“Mum, you don’t need to be doing this…” Wendy said solemnly, crossing her arms over her middle.

Mary gestured gently, a hand with an open palm dismissing the statement. She knows Wendy is just trying to look out for her, and although it’s appreciated Mary couldn’t do whatever it was she was suppose to do right now. So she finished sweeping the patch of glass into the dustpan and turned toward her daughter with as much of a smile as she could muster. She needed to do this, both for the people around her and for herself. “It’s alright,” She said softly trying to convince herself more than Wendy. “Did you manage to get some sleep?” 

So she works, sweeping up the glass, washing the stains from the walls and the pavement. And she feels it, not letting herself dettach the stain from the man who’d left them. He had been her friend, had been there when George was locked away, and came back to see them again. 

Guilt is the heaviest thing to carry, and she felt all hundred plus pounds of  Dante Blackwell on her shoulders. 

       John almost regretted the brief conversation he had with Scarlett before the dinner even started. He also remembered Casey’s text. Maybe they had comfortably overlooked that side of Neverland for a long time now – when Wendy used to hide under his covers and Mary warned them not to get close to the windows.

❝But mom,❞ he reached out for her hand, in the middle of convincing himself to let her go. Perhaps it was selfish to want her to stay there, safe, but he tried to empathize with his mother. 

❝Alright. Please, be careful,❞ John warned her, thinking one time hadn’t been enough. You need to come back. His father was still out there.

Mary: Get to the Hollow, lock the doors pick one room and stay away from the windows. Alivia is in charge.Opal: is it true?

Opal: he died?

Mary: yes.

        He nodded, almost ready to sprint towards Wendy’s room and meet his siblings to corroborate it by himself. His worries were eventually lessening, for the moment. 

❝And Scarlett? Leo?❞ He couldn’t see them anywhere either. John did feel a pang of guilt, knowing that they had nothing to do with this, but they were still involved in the conflict. What was he supposed to tell his wife? Gods in Neverland could also be struck down after all.

❝I’m sorry, mom,❞ John muttered as a way of confirmation, holding his mother this time. He had no idea of what it felt like – to lose an old friend. And he wasn’t planning on finding out.

❝I don’t know where Leo is, Scarlett should be here somewhere.❞ Mary glanced around again.  ❝Find her and bring her back with your siblings and stay in that room.❞ Mary stressed, driving the point home harder this time. Scarlett was the one exception John could go looking for, she was family, and needed to be protected as much as the rest of them.  

Mary’s face scrunched at her son’s words, her computer lost for a brief moment before she reign herself back in. Losing an original wasn’t like losing someone from his generation. They were children who adored them based on what they thought they were, but the originals? They stuck by each other for everything they were. 

The pickpocket. The pair of former posh brothers. The promising lawyer. The barkeep and the theatre owner’s kids. The con man. And a couple of fairies. 

    He didn’t deny his mother the embrace, it also served as a reality check, a tangible proof that they were both momentarily alright. John wished he had time to let himself enjoy the moment, but his sense of urgency wouldn’t leave.

❝I’m fine, mum. Are you? Have you contacted The Hollow? Where is everyone else?❞John asked one question after the other, as he looked around for the rest of his family, his initial worry. As long as they didn’t leave the penthouse, they would be safe, or that was what his childhood experience had taught him – locked up, away from the dangerous world outside.

❝It was Dante,❞ he began, lowering his eyes and not knowing what else to say.  

❝ I’m fine, Wendy must be in her room with the baby. I think I saw Michael head that way too. ❞ Mary said glancing over her shoulder toward the room. She remembered the window in that room, and suddenly wished she’d boarded it up like she’d threatened too in earlier years. It had been empty then, but now it would have been a blessing. ❝ No response from the fairies yet. ❞ She knew Alivia or JJ would contact her as soon as they could. 

It was Dante. 

      After the dinner, Dante Blackwell had charmed the Loft with his genius ways. Everyone could feel a sense of pride whenever he talked about the old days, all eyes on him. It wasn’t supposed to end that way. From Veronica’s text there was only a deduction.

John ran up The Fairy’s stairs, two at a time, not even thinking about taking the elevator to the penthouse. He needed two things at the moment: assure his siblings’ safety and his Beretta. When he the first thing he heard was his mother’s voice, he felt relieved. 

❝Mom,❞ he simply approached to meet her, not knowing where to start.

Mary doesn’t get a word out before her arm is around him. He is not a baby anymore. But in situations like this, her mind never fails to make her relive that night. An empty crib, and her own screams playing on a haunting loop. The driving action behind every choice they had made for their children, all the isolation, all the precaution. It was just to try and ease a panic that was a brand on her soul. Mary pulled him under her wing, and hopes he doesn’t notice how desperate her grip on him was. “Baby, are you okay?” She asked with a fragility in her voice that was so contradictory to the readiness in her eyes, she kept trying to will her arm down to hug him properly. But there’s a voice inside her mind that reminds her that gods have stolen sons from women before and called it divinity.