#avewrites

Cathy sighed as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her gut ached and her knees hurt, and her wrists felt like they were made of limp spaghetti, and her head was sore and-

Suffice to say, she wasn’t feeling good.

Groaning softly, Cathy rolled over and pulled the blankets over herself. She tried to get back to sleep, but the sunlight leaking through the curtains was making the room just bright enough that getting back to sleep was impossible. Turning over onto her stomach, Cathy crossed her arms under her pillow and rested her head on it. She chanced a look over at the digital clock on her windowsill and sighed. It was past noon already and she could already hear the other queens moving around downstairs. Not that she was surprised, Cathy was often the last to wake, but she was a little hurt no one had come up to check on her.

Not for the first time, Cathy was glad she’d pulled the mattress off of the bed frame and just set it on the floor. She hauled herself up out of bed, wincing as her knees cracked and popped, and pulled on her favorite hoodie. It took a second to get the door open, her wrists seeming to be rebelling against her, but she made it out of her room and now stood at the foot of her worst enemy. The stairs. Sighing heavily, Cathy reached out and gripped onto the railing, carefully easing herself down the stairs, trying not to wince in pain with each step.

Coming into the living room, Cathy tried her best to put on a brave smile. If she could just push through today, she would be able to sleep this off, no problem. Cathy chuckled a little at the realization that she’d just woken up and was already planning when she could next head to bed.

From the kitchen, Catalina called, “Morning mija, did you sleep well?”

Cathy tried to respond. Really, she did, you had to believe her. But even as she opened her mouth, nothing came out but a soft and hoarse whisper.

At the lack of response, Catalina leaned out of the kitchen over the bar to see what was wrong. At the sight of Cathy leaning heavily on the dining table looking like she was still half asleep, her eyes grew sad. “How bad is it today?”

Cathy shrugged. “2 and a half. Maybe 3.”

Catalina raised an eyebrow doubtfully. “You’re not a good liar mija.”

Crossing her arms and pulling her weight from the table, Cathy glowered at Catalina. “I’m not lying, I’m just tired.”

From the couch, Anna commented, “How are you still tired after sleeping more than you have in weeks? We got you to bed before 11pm for the first time in ages and you’ve slept almost 13 hours, and you’re still not rested?”

Logically, Cathy knew Anna was just messing with her. No actual annoyance was behind the fourth queen's words. And yet- ”Oh, sorry. Some of us aren’t perfectly healthy like the rest of you.” she snapped.

Anna frowned. “Hey, I’m sorry, we’re just worried about you.”

“I know, you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry too.” Cathy conceded. She pulled out one of the chairs from the table and sat down in it heavily.

Coming over to sit next to her, Anna asked, “Are you going to be okay to do the show tonight? We can call in an alternate if you need one.”

Cathy shook her head, “No, I should be fine. I’ll just rest until the show and I should be alright.”

Anna looked as if she wanted to argue, but instead said nothing, pulling out her phone and scrolling through some new app. Catalina swept into the room, setting down the thermos Cathy usually used on particularly bad days. On the one hand, the soup inside did smell delicious. On the other hand, well… It wasn't that bad today. If she kept telling herself that, it might be true.

“Just humor me mija, please?”

Gingerly picking up the thermos, Cathy got up out of her chair and transferred over to the sofa, sipping at her soup. Catalina walked over, a tea towel still tucked in a back pocket, and sat next to her wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Cathy hesitated, then leaned over onto her godmother’s side, letting her eyes close contentedly. A clattering noise made her crack an eye open, and she blinked blearily as she realized Catalina was holding her meds organizer. Handing Catalina her thermos, she took her meds and popped open the container, wincing as her wrist protested. She dug that day’s pills out of the little pocket, and swallowed them dry, pulling a face at the taste.

Catalina chuckled, “I still don’t know how you do that without water.”

Taking her thermos back after giving Catalina the meds organizer, Cathy snuggled back into Catalina’s side. “Practice I guess.” she could practically feel the sadness radiating off of Catalina at her answer, but she chose to ignore it. That wasn’t a lie anyway.

She didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she realized she couldn’t move. Catalina was gone, the thermos of soup gone along with her, and a blanket had been placed over her lap. Someone had moved Cathy so she was laying more comfortably on the couch, which she did appreciate, but she wasn’t thinking about that at the moment. The only things going through Cathy’s head were,

Fuck my knees hurt.

And

I can’t move.

Panic began to seize Cathy as it became startlingly clearer that it wasn’t only fatigue, she just couldn’t move. Shoving the blanket off herself with no little effort, Cathy stared horrified at her legs. They didn’t look any different, but Cathy could feel it. Her knees felt as if someone had locked them in place, and she needed to break them apart. Gently trying to bend one, Cathy cried out in pain as the miniscule movement sent a jolt of pain through her lower body. Tears beaded up in her eyes as the pain started to register in other parts of her body as well. “Catti?” she called.

No answer.

Panic swelled up in her chest as the silence began to feel stifling. “Anne?” she tried, hoping if her godmother wasn’t there, her girlfriend would be at least.

Nothing.

Cathy was hyperventilating at this point, from a mixture of crushing pain, and the horrible fear of being alone.

“Jane? Anna? Kitty?” she was sobbing now, chest heaving, panic making the pain worse, voice growing more and more shrill with each name.

“MADRINA!” Cathy wailed.

The silence was deafening.

She tugged at her hair, before gasping as her wrists seemed to burst into fresh hurt at the strain. Trying to calm herself down, Cathy tried to find something to focus on. Eyes drifting over the various piles of clutter in the living room, before settling on the kitchen table. On it, her meds organizer was sitting there, freshly refilled, holding down a slip of paper. Cathy cursed herself for leaving her wheelchair in her room, but she didn’t think she was going to need it. After all, her body hadn’t exactly given her forewarning that her pain would jump from a 3 to a 7 in the span of a couple hours.

Letting out a sharp cry, Cathy dragged herself upright, setting her feet onto the carpet. Shakily, she pushed herself up, and almost screamed as pain lanced through her as her knees protested. “Just get to the table!” she ordered herself. “Then you can rest, and it will all be okay.”

It was as if Cathy had forgotten how to walk. Left foot, right foot, left foot, stumble and barely catch herself, pause as she realized her rhythm was broken, left foot…

One and a half fucking meters. That was it. Yet Cathy barely made it to the edge of the table before her legs gave out. She scrabbled at the edge of the table, and missed; pulling her meds, the paper, and surprisingly her phone down with her. She lay there rolled over, staring at the ceiling, in too much pain to move.

Finally, she pulled out the paper, squinting at it. There, in Anne’s scrawled handwriting was a little message of,

Hey babe! We thought it best for you to get your sleep. We called in an alternate, and we’ll come home right after stagedoor.

Xoxoxo, Annie

...after stagedoor?

Cathy couldn’t wait that long.

With shaking hands, she popped open her meds and choked them down, before dropping the container onto her stomach and pulling out her phone. Her wrists strained under the effort, but she managed to find Anne’s contact and press on the screen. Cathy just barely pressed the speaker button before her hands collapsed onto her chest.

On the third ring, Anne picked up. “Hey! How’s my little sleepyhead doing? I promise we’re on our way home soon, just going to sign a few programs.”

Cathy managed a choked wheeze.

Immediately, Anne was all business. “Cathy? Cathy, where are you?”

“Kitchen.” she whispered.

“Scale of 1 to 10, how bad-”

“10.” Cathy interrupted, another tear running down her cheek.

She heard Anne’s sharp intake of breath, and then the sound of someone running. “Are you in a chair or are you standing?”

Hands shaking, Cathy sobbed, “I’m on the floor, Anne please I need you.”

“I’m coming, I’m on my way right now.” Anne’s voice was panicked, and Cathy just barely registered Anne’s shouted orders for everyone to pack up immediately.

Cathy choked, then wheezed over the speaker, “Anne can I talk to Lina?”

She could hear Anne’s footsteps over the speaker, and then, “She’s right here.”

“Cathy!” Catalina’s worried voice came over the speaker, and Cathy let out a sob.

“Madrina it hurts, it hurts so bad, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, please come home, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.” she begged, repeating herself over and over.

“We’re coming home right now, and we’re not mad. I promise.” Catalina soothed. In the background, Cathy could hear the slamming of car doors and the rev of an engine.

Anne’s voice was getting closer to the speaker again. “-she okay? How fast can we get there? I don't care about breaking any laws, just get us home!”

Catalina was speaking again, but Cathy was finding it harder and harder to focus. “We’re on our way, just hold on mija. I promise we’re going to be there so soon.”

Jane couldn’t place the feeling at first. It was a strange one, and after a few lazy minutes of puzzling it through, she belatedly realized it was the feeling of peace. Not to say being around the other queens wasn’t nice, but Jane did love these few moments of quiet she rarely gets. Slipping on her reading glasses, Jane opened the sewing kit and pulled out the project she’d been working on. A small slip cover for the throw pillow Catalina had bought her a while ago which was thinning with age. She let a small smile grace her face as the pressed play on her CD player before sitting back and letting the quiet voice of the woman reading her latest audio-book wash over her. 

And yet as was usual in the queen’s household, the peace didn’t last. A sharp knock at the door startled Jane out of her state and she jolted, stabbing her needle through her finger. She hissed in pain as blood began to bead at the tip of her index finger. Already resigning herself to having to fix some new emergency, Jane put aside her sewing and dashed to the kitchen to find herself a band-aid which she quickly applied as she walked to the front door.

Jane had been expecting one of the queens to be standing there, or perhaps another one of their reincarnated friends. Who she hadn’t been expecting was a strange woman standing on their doorstep. She carried herself with all the regality of a royal, or rather more specifically a queen. Her skin was a dark tan, weathered with age and she had thick curly brown hair. Dressed in a simple light beige button up blouse and dark grey skirt the woman looked as if she was about to go to a business meeting or to church. Maybe both.

 Arching an eyebrow, the woman asked, “Is this the residence of the Tudor queens?”

Rather taken aback, it took Jane a moment before she answered, “Yes, why do you ask?” the woman had an oddly familiar face, as if she’d met her before. “If you’re asking about an interview we usually schedule those over the phone.”

“No, no I’m not here for an interview. I’m here to see someone.” The woman stated, crossing her arms.

More than a little annoyed at having to prompt an answer out of the woman, Jane sighed. “We don’t really do personal interviews on the drop of the hat, or autographs outside of stage door. If you’d like to book a ticket to see our show and catch the person you’re looking for afterwards I’d be glad to assist you to our website-”

Jane was cut off by the woman’s beleaguered groan. “You misunderstand, I’m not some fanatic looking to meet a hero. I’m looking for my daughter.”

Well. That was a development. Cautiously, Jane ventured, “So then who specifically are you here to see?” she ran down a mental list of people from their time who had not yet returned. Thankfully, no one from the extensive Boleyn/Howard/Seymour clan aside from her sister had returned, and frankly neither Kitty, nor Anne, nor herself had any interest in seeing their parents again. Anna’s mother had already returned, so she was out of the running. Then perhaps Cathy’s mother?

Yet the woman seemed to bear no resemblance to the sixth queen, except perhaps in mere passing. Which left just one option. The more Jane scrutinized the woman’s face, the more she realized where the odd sense of deja vu at seeing her came from. This woman and her girlfriend carried strikingly similar features. The woman’s next statement only solidified her hunch. “I’m here to see my daughter. Catalina of Aragon.”

Ah, and there was the confirmation. Jane wasn’t quite sure of what to do next. One the one hand, she didn’t want to lie to the woman and say Catalina wasn’t there, on the other… Catalina had never spoken of her mother, Isabella of Castile, with any reverence. If anything it was stern indifference. The other Trastámara siblings hadn’t spoken positively of the woman either, making Jane wonder if letting the woman inside was the best course of action. Finally she settled on a simple easy lie. “I’m not sure if she’s home, Catalina likes to take walks out in the park a couple blocks from here. I’ll check if she’s in the house, if not you could check in at another time to see if she’s returned.” Isabella seemed content with the answer and sat down on the bench on their porch.

Ducking back inside the house and closing the door behind her, Jane let out a breathy sigh of relief. Technically, she supposed, it wasn’t quite a lie. Lina did like to take walks at the park, but Jane knew for a fact Catalina was upstairs debating some new topic or another with Anne. The two had become rather enraptured with some new book series and were constantly playfully arguing over the story. (Jane had attempted to get into the series, but had eventually given up after not being able to find an audio book reading she liked.)

Trudging up the stairs to find her girlfriend, Jane knocked lightly on Anne’s door, decorated with little stickers and drawn on hearts done in an assortment of colors. “Come in!” her cousin’s cheery voice came easily through the door, and Jane slowly pushed it open. Inside, Anne lay upside-down on the bed half hanging off, hair brushing the carpet. Catalina was lounging on the couch in the corner of Anne’s room, engrossed in some article online. 

Looking up to see who’d come in, Catalina broke into a smile at the sight of Jane. “Jane! Did you want to join us?” as tempting as that did sound, Jane couldn’t shake her original mission. 

“Sorry love, I’d like to but there’s something more urgent that needs addressing.”

Sitting up a little straighter, Catalina frowned. “Did something happen?”

Nervously, Jane’s eyes flicked to where Anne was struggling to sit up. At the sight of her cousin’s nerves, Anne asked, “Do you need me to give you two some privacy?”

Before Jane could say anything, Catalina waved away the suggestion. “No, that’s okay.” turning her attention back to Jane, Catalina pressed, “What is it?”

Jane worried at her lip. “There’s a woman at the door.” Before Anne could make some comment about being able to answer a door on her own, Jane pressed forwards. “She says she’s your mother.”

Out of all the reactions that could’ve come of that moment, Jane was of the opinion that Anne’s reaction was perhaps the one she’d expected of Catalina. A tight, drawn, almost ashen face full of worry and concern. What she hadn’t been expecting was Catalina to burst out into almost hysterical laughter. “No.” dropping her hands into her lap, twisting one over the other, Catalina gave a strained smile. “No, I can’t believe it’s actually her. I won’t believe it.”

Jane walked over and knelt in front of Catalina. “I didn’t tell her you were home, I can tell her to come back at another time if you need.”

Standing abruptly, Catalina tangled her hands into her hair. “I don’t want to see her at all, I never thought- I didn’t-”

Anne crossed the room and grabbed Catalina’s hands, pulling them from her hair. “You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to.”

Nodding, Jane stood, repeating the sentiment. “I’ll tell her to leave and we can sort this out when you’re ready. Catalina nodded, and Jane looked over to Anne. “can you-” she mouthed, before smiling in relief as Anne nodded, understanding. Jane reached over and squeezed Catalina’s hand, happy when Catalina, admittedly belatedly, repeated the sentiment. Turning back out of Anne’s room, Jane went back down the stairs and opened the front door. Isabella still sat patiently on the porch bench, waiting.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t find her, would you be able to return at a different time?” years of practice at court had made Jane adept at smiling even when she felt like shoving someone down a flight of stairs.

Isabella mulled this over as if it were Jane who was rescheduling a time to impose on her. “I suppose. Perhaps I’ll see your show and find her there.”

Smile growing imperceptibly tighter, Jane tried to keep her tone light. “Sounds good!” she gritted through clenched teeth.