So, since I just finished a whole historical Chapter (Ha, Chapter 9 was like a novel on its own), I decided that the historical Halloween oneshot - which DOES fall into the same universe, which I'm calling the AnaVerse - would be the best one to post first. So, yeah! It's a little bit angsty, but not really. Enjoy!
Warning: Brief Google Translate French
Much Love, Krissy
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Historical Again:
"Mama?" Lilith asks, holding onto my dress before I can walk away from her bed. I turn and look down at her.
"Yes, my dear?" I ask. She keeps a firm hold on my skirt, and I sit down at the edge of her bed, sensing that she wants me to stay at her side.
"Do you think that the spirits will come back tonight?" she asks. I smile softly at her.
"Wherever did you hear that, petit (little one)?" I ask. She smiles slightly.
"Pip told me," she says. Ah, Philip. Of course. I hum, brushing some hair off her forehead.
"On Hallows Eve, the spirits are able to come back to see the living. I think if any spirits are visiting us tonight, they'll only be the nicest of spirits, coming to see the little girl whom I adore," I say. She rolls over, hugging her doll to her chest as she smiles up at me.
"Like Uncle John, Mama?" she asks. I smile and nod.
"Yes, darling. Like your Uncle John," I agree. She grins sweetly.
"I can't wait to meet Uncle John," she says softly. I smile and kiss her cheek.
"Only if you go to sleep first," I say. She giggles and nods, closing her eyes. I blow out the candle beside her bed and stand up, leaving her to sleep. The house is dark, as it is a new moon tonight and I haven't lit many candles. I pick up the one I'd left on a table outside Lilith's room and begin walking down the hall. Jonathan is still in his office working, and both of my children have gone to bed. I pause when I notice that Lilith I's door is cracked open slightly.
"Do you think that the spirits will come back tonight?" she'd asked. Now I wonder if she could have been right. I swallow and creep toward the door slowly, careful to not make a sound. I slowly push the door open, and I gasp softly at what I see. A translucent blue figure. A familiar coat. Hair tied back tightly behind his head in lucious curls.
"John?" I whisper softly, staring wide eyed at the figure standing at the window. He turns, and it's him. My John.
"Hi, Anastasia," he says softly, smiling a little. I want to run forward and hug him, but I'm frozen. He's...He's here. He's here and I can see him. I can hear him. I finally find my legs and take a few steps into the room. The candle seems to make him fade a little, so I blow it out and set it on the floor by the door. I reach out, but my hand passes right through him. He smiles softly, before reaching out himself. And I feel his touch. It's cool, but not uncomfortably so.
"Spirits must reach out first," he says. I feel a tear roll down my cheek, and he pulls me to him. The nearly translucent man embraces me, and I close my eyes and press my face into his chest.
"I've missed you so much," I whisper. He nods, and I feel something hit my cheek. It's not wet, but somehow I can tell it's a ghostly tear. I squeeze him tighter, not ever wanting to let go.
"I've missed you too," he chokes out. He isn't warm or cold, he's merely a solid weight in my arms. I shift my head on his chest, keeping my eyes closed.
"I've been watching over you, you know," he says softly. I nod.
"I know. I can feel your presence constantly," I reply, equally as softly. He chuckles a little, somehow squeezing me tighter. I feel as if I'm finally home again, after all these years. John is home, in my heart. He is a piece of my heart, my soul, my home. I love him, deeply and dearly. We never move from each other's arms, and it's quiet for a long time. There are no words that I can think to say. He seems to be having a similar struggle.
"I'm sorry," he says suddenly. I can't help but pull my head back to look at him.
"For what, mon amour?" I ask softly. He has tears in his eyes, from what I can see. It breaks my heart.
"For leaving you. For being reckless and dying," he says. I press myself back into his chest, holding him as tight as I can.
"It's alright," I say, even though it isn't. I wish that he hadn't been reckless and gotten himself killed. I wish that he was real and made of flesh in my arms right now. But he isn't, and he won't ever be. I can't look back on the past, I have to focus on right now. And right now, the man I hold dearest to my heart is in my arms for the first time in years. I will comfort him, and I will not let go until I absolutely have to. An idea comes to mind as I'm standing there, holding him. Lilith.
"Would you...Like to meet your goddaughter?" I ask, pulling my head back again to look up at him. He smiles sadly.
"I know she isn't my goddaughter," he says softly. I frown and look down, feeling the shame rising in me. He must think so little of me.
"I want to meet her," he says softly, tilting my chin up. I smile slightly and nod. His arms unwind from around me, and he instead takes my hand. I pick up the unlit candle as we leave the room, and set it on a table outside. I lead him down the hall to Lilith's room and slowly open the door again. Lilith is still facing the door, right where I left her. When the door opens, I think I see her eyes open a little. John follows me into her room, and he smiles at the little girl then leans over by my ear.
"She's beautiful," he whispers. I smile slightly and nod.
"She is," I whisper back. He lets go of my hand, a gesture that makes me feel something empty, and goes over to where my daughter is pretending to be asleep.
"Hey there, kid," he whispers. She giggles and opens her eyes, which I can see through my nearly transparent companion.
"Uncle John?" Lilith asks quietly. He nods and watches her sit up. She attempts to tackle him in a hug, but goes right through him. He catches her, however, and lands on his back with her laying on his chest. She giggles, and I smile.
"Careful, enfant (kid)," he chuckles. He wraps his arms around Lilith, and she just lays on his chest, eyes closed and a soft smile on her face. John is in a similar state, and I once again curse God for taking him away. He would have stayed by my side. He and Alexander could've been lawyers together, and he could've been a proper uncle/godfather to my children. Alexander. I pause. Has he gone to see him tonight? Am I keeping him from the man who holds his heart? When John eventually sits up, he smiles at my daughter, who has settled herself in his lap.
"Are all the stories mama tells about you true?" she asks, eyes sparkling in his slight glow. He chuckles.
"They are," he says. She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his chest.
"Thank you, Uncle John," she mutters. John rests his head on top of her head. They sit there for an even longer time, before John silently stands up. I realize that Lilith fell asleep in his hold, and I feel my heart swell. He lays my daughter back in her bed and tucks her beneath the covers. He kisses her forehead softly, as he does for me, and then turns to look at me. I smile, feeling tears in my eyes. He smiles back and ushers me from the room. We stop in the hallway once Lilith's door is closed and he hugs me again.
"Why are you crying, Anastasia?" he asks softly. I shake my head. I do not want him to feel guilty for his death. He runs his fingers gently through my hair and kisses my temple.
"Am I keeping you from Alexander?" I ask, trying to take the topic away from myself. He shakes his head.
"I already went to see Alex," he mutters. I smirk slightly despite myself.
"Oh?" I ask, softly and playfully. He chuckles.
"Yes. Oh," he says. I giggle, knowing he caught on to my insinuation.
"So, how was it-"
"Anastasia!" he hisses, pushing me back. He looks and sounds embarrassed, and I can't help but giggle.
"I didn't know I raised you to have such a sinful mind," a teasing and playful voice emerges from behind me. I turn, and there she is. My mother. I gasp, and for a moment I want to reach for her. Then I remember that she must reach for me first. Instead I grin.
"I don't believe that love is a sin, mother," I say. She smiles at me, and then I'm taken into her arms. I've missed her. How long has it been since I've seen her?
"I missed you, mama," I mutter into her shoulder. She nods, her arms firmly around me. There has never been anyone who quite matches her motherly embrace. My children's hugs are sweet, and I have long found deep comfort in the arms of John and Lafayette, but nothing will ever match my mother.
"Et tu m'as manqué, ma chérie (And I have missed you, my darling)," she says into my hair. There's so much I want to say to her, and to tell her about.
"How long can you stay?" I ask. She pulls back slightly and looks over my shoulder, assumingly at John.
"We can only stay until the sun rises," she says. I hate this answer, but nod. If that is the time I have, then I will use every minute of it.
We've been talking for hours, my mother, John, and I. I have not tired of it at all. I cherish the seconds, holding them tightly. Jonathan went to bed hours before, and now we reside in the office. Just now, though, I look up, and see the orange glow of sunlight against the wall. The sun is rising.
"I'm afraid our time here is coming to an end," my mother says softly. Getting up. I stand up, not ready for her to leave yet. She smiles at me and kisses my forehead.
"I love you, my dear Anastasia. I will continue to watch over you, I promise," she says. I try to hold onto her, but she slips through my hands and walks backwards until she stands in front of the window. As the sunlight hits her, I watch her vanish. John takes a step toward the sun, and I throw myself in front of him.
"No!" I beg, "You can't go yet!" He smiles sadly and takes my face in his hands.
"I have no choice, Ana. I don't want to go, but I must," he says. For the first time since I saw him standing at the window last night, I feel tears rolling down my cheeks.
"There must be a way," I say desperately, clinging to him. He shakes his head.
"There isn't," he says softly. I open and close my mouth, trying to find words to make him stay. Force him to be rooted to this Earth with me until I myself pass. He pulls me to him, and I press my face into his chest. I grip onto his jacket, begging God to let him stay with me. John slowly moves us, putting his back to where the light stretches across the room.
"I'll watch over you, just like I have been. I'll stay at your side, always," he promises. I let out a sob. He's walking backwards, toward the light, and I follow him. Until we are both standing in the warm sunlight. I pull my head back to hold his gaze. His transparent form appears golden now, and I can see light sparkling like dust through him. He presses a kiss to my forehead, and I hold on until he seemingly disappears from my grasp. He still stands before me, but we can no longer touch.
"I love you," he says. His hand reaches out to touch my cheek, and I feel a small tingle. And then I watch him fade from my sight. Another tear drops from my cheek.
"I love you too, John," I whisper to the room. And I can almost hear a faint chuckle, and despite myself, I close my eyes and smile.
Eyyyy. How was that? Much shorter than the past three updates! We're back to business! Again, I really wanna do a Chapter 9 Q&A, so let me know if you have any questions. Even if they aren't about the story, and just about historical Anastasia in general, I will be happy to answer them. Also if anyone has questions about Ana's insinuation~
Alright, Krissy out.