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Tony manipulated the wizards at the Occult Society. Esther knows that. It doesn’t change how much it hurts , and it sinks from her chest and into her stomach. Her mother had been betrayed and turned to rage. She was overcome by pure, unadulterated sorrow, overwhelming and powerful. Everything she’d done over the past three years came crashing down; all of Alejandro’s work tumbled to the ground and lay at her feet, destroyed.
Ricky proposed, and she was pregnant, but she stepped back into her home and felt the weight of it all, the rebuilding to be done, the trust to be restored, and the recruitment to come. She leaned her back against their front door, eyes raking over the damage done to their apartment: lightning bolts, broken furniture, singed fabric. Her home has been destroyed by a man who wants to kill her world, and she's grateful once again for the curse on her family being broken because this would be the moment she joined her mother and grandmother in Tompkins Square Park.
She slides down the door, landing on the floor with her knees to her chest, tears pouring down her face. She cries for the wizards killed in the fight, for the ones who chose Tony over her, for the ones who had to choose between the things they loved and the Society. She cries for her home, her fiance, who had to save her, and her baby, who she doesn't know if she can protect.
Ricky sits beside her and waits, letting her mourn the losses she’s been through today, his arms open for her to climb into.
“I trusted them.” Esther hiccups, sobs wracking her body. “I loved them.”
“I know.” He murmurs as she reaches for him, hands shaking wildly. He pulls her in, wraps her in his big arms, and her holds tight. She grasps the fabric of his shirt and lets her tears soak through it, face buried in his shoulders
He does know. She’s let some of the wizards Tony recruited sleep on their couch when they had nowhere else to go, brought them to Kingston when they came back especially battered, and spent nights at the Chantry when they stayed late just to make sure they made it home okay. Esther loves the Grammarcy Occult Society, she loves the Clinton Hill Chantry, and she’s dedicated the last ten years of her life to them.
Nothing has hurt this bad since her mother became the Fury of Rage.
Ricky scoops her up when her sobs quiet and her body stills, the tears falling down her cheeks in silent grief. He carries her to the bathroom and starts running a bath, sets her on the counter, and holds her while she leans against him, energy sapped from battle and betrayal.
He helps her into the bath and makes her a big cup of her favorite tea that she barely sips at, but he doesn’t say a word about it, just hands her one of his oldest, softest firehouse shirts and a pair of sweatpants to wear. She cries until she’s out of tears, so exhausted she falls asleep in his lap on the couch.
She wakes up alone and in their bed, a note from Ricky, a muffin, and a thermos of warm tea on the bedside table. She rolls over without reading it. She knows what it says anyways. He’s at work, he’s left Ox home to keep her company, and he loves her.
She remembers the way she grieved when Alejandro died, how she cried every morning and fought to continue his legacy. She doesn’t feel as strong this time, she doesn’t have the fight to climb out of bed and head downstairs to rebuild their whole world or into a destroyed apartment and mend the life Tony tore apart.
Someone knocks on the front door after a few hours, and she remembers the wizard who knocked on the door the night before, tears streaming down their face as Tony hid just out of sight. She’d opened the door, ready to pull her friend into her arms, and been greeted by a man ready to end her life.
“Esther, it’s me!” Sofia’s voice rings through the apartment. “I brought breakfast!”
Esther pulls the blanket over her head and hopes Sofia will think she’s asleep. She feels sick, the memory of Tony Simos in her home sinking into her stomach.
“I know you’re in there! Find my Friends works both ways!” Sofia is already looking for the key Esther gave her for emergencies, and as much as Esther hates to admit it, she feels like an emergency right now, broken and tired and scared, but the only thing worse than the way she feels is the idea of Sofia knowing it.
She sits up, but she doesn’t have it in her to stand, tears streaming down her cheeks already. Sofia opens the door, and Esther hears her sigh at the destroyed apartment. It’s awful, she knows it. The reminder is going to be hell, but she doesn’t have the resolve to Mending the furniture and broken glass that Ricky has classified as “very unsafe.”
“Oh, Esther.” Sofia all but drops everything she’s carrying to wrap Esther in her arms, sweet perfume that’s so distinctly Sofia surrounding her. It’s almost painful, her best friend has had the best day of her life, and she’s had one of her worst, betrayal and pain overshadowing the joy of her engagement. “Let it out, hon.”
So she does.