firewatcher | [PSL] 2016: But I'll be here 'til chaos calls

Night off, finally. Coming off a long shift like that all she should have wanted to do was sleep, but it never felt like there were enough hours in the day anymore. And sleep was more and more often an exercise in lying awake, alone with her thoughts in the dark. Just like every year around this time except worse. No thanks.

So Palmer made herself a cup of coffee and went to see if Great-Aunt Julia was what passed for awake. Weird how things changed so quickly—three months ago she would have sworn there was no such thing as ghosts, and now one was haunting her couch. Her aunt haunting her couch. She'd set a bunch of older pens on the coffee table in hopes that one of them would have enough emotional whatever imbued into it to work for Aunt Julia, but so far she'd seen nothing.

She did a quick double-take when she saw someone actually sitting on the couch, but then relaxed as she realized that it was just Danielle—who she had, she remembered, blearily, told she could come over whenever.

"'Lo, Danielle," she said, rubbing at her eyes and taking a seat next to her on the couch. "How's Aunt Julia?"

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She let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Whole different ballgame. Don't forget, I spent four years babysitting Shawn's baby vampire ass."

They had been four really strange years.

Danielle ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. "I always told myself that if I ever saw him cross a line...I'd take him down. I mean, Shawn's always been pretty good at crossing lines, even as a human but..." She shrugged. "Devil's due, I guess. He's always been way...in control. I guess it's easier to tell myself that I'd stop him if I had to...since I've never had to."

"Yeah. You haven't." She shook her head. "And I hope you never do. I really, really hope you never do."

Palmer resisted glancing back at the whiskey bottle still left standing on the sideboard. "That night I remember you told me to kill you if you ever become a monster, and I said I would if you'd promise the same for me. I need you to promise me something else, now."

Oh, she didn't like the sound of this. Danielle desperately wanted it to be the whiskey talking, but she knew better. Palmer's tolerance was high and that one mug wasn't nearly enough to put her in some kind of drunken melancholia.

She braced herself, making sure she could keep her tone even before replying, "You know I follow your orders, Palmer."

"Ain't exactly about following orders," Palmer said. "You know I said it's your choice if you take the oaths, and it still is. But I'm about to do a bunch of really dangerous shit, Danielle, to try and save the things I care about, and I don't have any illusions about the fact that a lot of it's going to be deadly dangerous."

She sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "If I die, George and Susanna will need help, especially until Frankie and Jonas are a little older. You can't risk yourself avenging me against whatever happens. The family will need your knowledge and skills. So—please," she said, reaching across to lay a hand on Danielle's shoulder. "This isn't an order, this is me asking you. As your cousin, as a friend, as Maria. Take the oaths, and keep my family safe if something happens to me."

It had been a very long time since Danielle thought of Palmer as a cousin, as a friend, or as Maria. And she'd more or less assumed, after what happened with Andy, that Palmer felt more or less the same way.

She needed to. In order to do the hard job she'd done.

The pathos was unexpected and left Danielle blinking in confusion. "Shouldn't you be saying this to George?"

"He already took the oaths in his teens, like I did," said Palmer. "I guess what I'm saying is that—leading this family, you can't be an island. It's a hard enough job with your entire family behind you; feeling like you're alone and having to protect everyone yourself is..." She trailed off and licked her lips lightly. "It can be a lot of pressure."

She nodded. "You'll—we'll all need to support each other. Because things are going to get worse before they're going to get any better."

Danielle looked her right in the eyes. "I swear to you, Palmer, I will always be there for George. You don't have to ask me."

Or doubt her. But Danielle knew how shaky her credibility was.

Which was, naturally, all Miles' fault.

Palmer smiled. Wanly, but she smiled. "Will you take the oaths?" Her smile widened. "The script calls for a party afterward, you know. And you won't have trouble with the fire part. We can skip the cryptid hunt unless you really want to do it, since you've already proven yourself competent."

She pursed her lips. "I know the family hunting traditions haven't always been great for you, but I promise this one's fun."

Perhaps it was vaguely predictable, but Danielle shrugged slightly and said, "If Shawn does."

The two of them hadn't had a chance to discuss it really. What with the world ending and all, but Danielle was fairly sure he'd be on board. After all, he pretty much lived for the hunt.

And as for her own fresh start well...that wasn't happening.

Palmer shrugged. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a no, either. And not unexpected, true. "Well, let me know what the both of you decide. Doesn't mean you gotta stay here forever."

Danielle nodded. Her eyes strayed over to the couch. "I think...I think our mom would like that."

Well, she'd like the connection to the family, at least. The ship had already sailed on whatever hopes and dreams Julia Palmer-Remington had for her children. Or, at least, that was Danielle's interpretation of the situation.

She had a tendency to project.

Palmer laughed, a little shakily. Ah, her haunted couch. This was just her life now. "Ha, well, lucky you, you can actually ask her, I guess. I know that's important to you. The point is, it's just putting a ceremonial touch on something that's already true—that you have our backs and we have yours."

As a Cronie Dragon (Dragony Crone?), Danielle got the importance of ritual. Which was why she was giving the whole matter serious consideration. You never made decisions like that lightly.

But frankly, her opinions were the same either way.

This was her family.

"Always," she said, in her best Alan Rickman voice.

[PSL] 2016: But I'll be here 'til chaos calls

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