Chapter Text
Hope braided her ash brown hair over her shoulder as she sat in the loft atop the Second Salemers church. She tied off the end, nearly reaching to the bottom of her ribcage, and whipped it over her shoulder.
“Credence?”
She tensed as she heard her adoptive mother calling for her brother down in the pews.
“...yes…Ma?” His voice was meek, powerless. The fearful sound made Hope’s blood boil.
She stood, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt as she moved to look over the balcony.
Hope was a menacing figure in the ‘family’, unyieldingly defiant to Mary Lou to the point that the matriarch had broken belts while trying to discipline her. The tyrant knew she’d met her match though when starting as a young child Hope would ask for and receive punishment in place of her siblings with little more than a grimace.
She rested her hands on the railing, forearms covered in thin white scars from the relentless lashings.
Mary Lou looked up, spotting her ‘daughter’ over Credence’s shoulder and going very still. She wholeheartedly believed that these twins were Satan’s spawn—evil defilers that would bring on the Apocalypse. It was also her God-given duty to keep them here, contained.
“Have you found a place for our next meeting?” She asked, voice cool as her eyes flitted down to Credence. He was pliable, feeble-minded, and tried to trick her with the guise of a fragile boy looking for love, but she would not be fooled.
“No, Ma, I was just going to go out and do that…” Credence breathed, bowing his head submissively.
“I’ll go with you.” Hope called, moving down the steps and grabbing her coat from the hook on the ledge.
“Hope. I asked you to retrieve the pamphlets from the print shop.” Mary Lou said, eyes narrowing in controlled disgust. God truly tested her with this child.
“Charity already got them.” Hope breathed, her own deep ocean eyes locking with the older woman’s ice blue ones as she stood next to her brother, resolute.
“Come on, Credence.” Hope hooked her arm into her brother’s elbow, ending the standoff and leading him away.
“Be back by dinner.” Mary Lou barked, turning to watch them go.
Credence flinched, but Hope didn’t grace her with any response at all.
Once they were a few blocks away Hope let go of him, sliding her hands into her pockets. She took a deep breath, stoic with her eyes firmly forward.
“...I would guess we are not actually going to find a place for the meeting…” Credence breathed, looking down at Hope and giving her a faint smile. He was constantly in pain—Mary Lou had imbued such a deep self-hatred that Credence felt like the evil entity that ripped out of him was the embodiment of who he truly was. Hope, despite her chilly demeanor, he saw as goodness. He’d seen the things that she was capable of, orbs of the purest light, moving items across the room with her mind, healing the broken wing of a baby bird…
“No, absolutely not.” She snorted, flashing her brother a crooked smile as she nudged him with her elbow. “I think that baker’s son on Forty Second Street has a fondness for me…and you know I will get sweets out of it.”
“If he’s fond of you it’s certainly because you cured his dog of rat poisoning…” Credence whispered, giving her a shy smile.
Hope waved her hand a little bit. Being raised in such a relentlessly hostile environment had hardened her into a defiant protector, unafraid to step in.
Credence took a little breath, smile turning sad.
“...you do not always have to bear the burden of Ma’s discipline, Hope…” He trailed off. He sometimes felt like he deserved it.
Hope furrowed her brow. “Nothing you ever do warrants her violence, Credence. It does not affect me, and often she is too frightened to touch me anymore, anyways.” She chuckled, the sound dark. There was power in fear, and she knew Mary Lou had come to be afraid of her over the years when Hope did not yield to the emotional and physical abuse like her siblings.
Credence ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “We’re still going to leave, right? That’s the plan…?”
It was two years in the making, convincing Credence to run away with her. He was so brainwashed by the persistent trauma that Hope had to be gentle with their plans. For a while she was afraid that her brother would tell Mary Lou about Hope’s suggestions—but he didn’t. His love for Hope was stronger than his fear of Ma.
“Yeah, I’m going to the bank in two days.” She breathed, looking up at her brother. She hadn’t told him how exactly she was going to get the money (a mild heist with some magical feats) but he trusted Hope. They were going to get third-class tickets to London and start completely over.
“Okay, I’ll…I’ll be ready, Hope.” Credence flashed her a smile, relief filling his worn-out features. He was too young at twenty-six to look this exhausted.
Hope took her hand out of her pocket, reaching over to squeeze her brother’s.
“We have lived like this long enough, Credence. It’s our time.”