Chapter Text
The smugness radiating off Malcolm is almost palpable.
Leonard attempts to bolster himself with the fact that Allison very recently thrashed him with a well-aimed fist. It doesn’t help as much as he hoped, not when Church is slouched next to him trying to disappear into the hood of his shirt, Carolina has a glint in her eyes that is much like her mother resisting the urge to fight, and even Richard is radiating an energy that makes him alarmed for whatever comes out of the man’s mouth.
The Council stares down at them from their seats. Leonard can’t decide whether it is a good sign or not that they don’t look particularly angry, more bemused than anything else.
His attention returns to Malcolm as the other man steps forward.
“We naturally all know why you are here. The fact that a mortal stands before the esteemed Council is proof enough of the severity of the charges. But as is tradition, let me read out the charges for which you are accused.”
Richard’s eyes narrow as Malcolm speaks. He opens his mouth, then shuts it with a swift glance towards as Dexter paws at his ankle and lets out a quiet warning hiss. Leonard has not spent any time with the man besides when Dexter was sitting bed-side beside Church, but at least he understands the risks of speaking out of turn.
“Leonard Church. James Church. Carolina Church. Dexter Grif. You are all hereby charged with Excessive and Reckless Mortal Fraternization as well as violation of the Charitable Purposes Law.”
“And keeping secrets from the Council,” Drell says. He slams his fist onto the table with a suddenness that makes Richard and Church jump and Dexter’s tail flick. “WHICH ISN’T A LAW BUT SHOULD BE.”
Skippy doesn’t flinch at Drell’s outburst, too accustomed to them by now, but Leonard catches the beginning of a scowl on his face as he looks curiously towards Richard. There have been rumors that he has a soft spot for mortals, but unfortunately those rumors always had the addendum that the soft spot never prevented him from going along with Cassandra and Drell’s decisions.
Cassandra has her chin propped in her hand and is studying everyone. She, more than the other two Council members, looks slightly puzzled, a small crease in her forehead and a purse to her lips as she also studies Richard.
“How do you plead?” Malcolm asks.
Leonard keeps his expression polite and attentive. “We have the right to hear the evidence against us first.”
“We do?” Richard whispers, blinking. When Leonard glances at him, he winces. “Uh. Good.”
Malcolm’s smugness intensifies. “Then by all means, you shall hear it.” He pauses, as Leonard knew he would, and offers Carolina and Church an elaborate bow. “As young witches, you are likely unaware that I serve as the subhead of the Council and provide oversight to many branches of the Other Realm government. It so happened that I was conducting a routine follow up investigation after the horrific tragedy narrowly avoided in Massachusetts.”
“The what?” Drell says blankly.
Malcolm pauses again, this time to cough into his hand and murmur, “The, ah, incident with Felix and Locus, sir.” Drell’s expression goes thunderous even as Malcolm continues, his words confirming some of Leonard’s worst fears.
“Imagine my surprise when my routine investigation turned up incongruities around Dexter Grif’s home! I had uncovered a sealed ward against surveillance in a flat with only a familiar and a mortal living within.”
Cassandra lifts her head from her hand at that. “A familiar and a mortal? Where was Dexter Grif’s guardian?”
Leonard has a brief satisfaction at seeing Malcolm briefly stymied. Malcolm is too well-practiced at politics to let more of a flicker of frustration go across his face before he turns towards the Council and offers them a practiced smile. “It was an experiment, ma’am, one that would have reached your ears once there were results, as there are now.”
Skippy scowls down at him.
Malcolm answers the silent question. “The theory was that the punishment of living with a mortal would provide an extra deterrent against breaking Council law. Unfortunately it seems that instead the experiment was used to circumvent the law–”
Drell slams his fist again. “So you’re telling me that somebody stuck a familiar with a mortal? That is one the stupidest things I’ve heard in decades! Bring us the idiot who decided to break centuries of tradition and make a witch play at being a kitty-cat for a mortal!”
“Sir, with all due respect, I think we should focus on what I learned about this ward. The matter of Dexter Grif can wait—”
This time Drell’s fist slams into the table so hard that a gust of wind ruffles everyone’s hair. “BRING OUT THE IDIOT!”
Again there’s a satisfying flicker of annoyance from Malcolm before he nods. “Of course, sir.”
Leonard doesn’t allow himself to be cheered by this setback of Malcolm’s. Even if the Council’s ire is currently being directed towards someone else, he dislikes the direction. It doesn’t bode well for Dexter or Richard, not when it’s obvious that even Skippy dislikes the notion of a familiar living with a mortal.
A moment later, a new man enters the Council chambers. Leonard doesn’t recognize him, but Dexter and Richard clearly do, from the way Dexter mutters under his breath, “Great, the stooge,” and Richard’s colorless face turns a splotchy red.
This man looks nervous, his gaze darting from Malcolm to the Council. “Y-you asked for me?”
“Apparently you came up with the brilliant idea of placing a familiar in a mortal’s home,” Cassandra says. No one could miss the sarcasm in her voice, and the man visibly wilts and goes pale.
“Uh, well–”
“Spit it out, Scrooge,” Drell snarls.
“The stooge’s name is Scrooge?” Richard says, his voice high and incredulous.
Scrooge shoots him a nasty look, but Richard just stares back, eyebrows almost disappearing past his hairline. Then Scrooge looks back to the Council and licks his lips. “It’s, um, pronounced Scroge, sir, sort of like crow, but uh— it seemed like he would suffer more staying in a mortal’s house, feigning being a cat, than–”
“The traditional punishment?” Cassandra says. The sarcasm is replaced by ice.
Drell rolls his eyes. “Are you the same guy who came up with the shark familiar crap?”
Scrooge winces. “No, sir, you reassigned her to the Republic of Infinite Horror for a century.”
“The Republic of Infinite Horror?” Carolina whispers to Leonard.
He can only give a small shrug in response. The Republic of Infinite Horror would take too long to explain at the moment and also frankly would infuriate Carolina. He doesn’t need her any angrier than she understandably already is. He also doesn’t know anything about this shark situation, but apparently the people safeguarding familiars have been taking many liberties. It’s not a comforting thought.
“Councilors, in my defense, Dexter Grif lied to my face about this man being an ignorant mortal!” Scrooge says, jabbing a finger towards Richard and Dexter. “The experiment was faulty from the start because of his deception! If anything, it’s proved that he should have his sentence extended–”
Richard makes a small, aborted movement, and only stills when Dexter’s paws wrap around his ankle.
His teeth are gritted, but before he can speak, Drell hisses at Scrooge, “Perhaps we should have our own experiment. See if making you Dexter Grif’s guardian means you’ll actually know what’s going on with him.”
“What? No!” Dexter protests, still clinging to Richard’s ankle. “Haven’t you guys heard of cruel and unusual punishment?!”
Scrooge also blanches. “But– it wasn’t my fault! How was I supposed to know what they were up to?”
“BY DOING YOUR JOB!”
Malcolm clears his throat. “It is not entirely Scrooge’s fault, sir. Dexter did deceive him, and I will remind you that someone had warded the flat against detection. A sealed ward, no less. If Scrooge was monitoring from the Other Realm, he would have seen nothing amiss, thanks to Doctor Church.”
A triumphant note creeps into his voice as the Council momentarily forgets Scrooge and stares at Leonard.
Leonard keeps his expression calm as Church tenses beside him. He’s prepared for this. Well, not this situation precisely. He had realized that he and Richard would be at risk, but he hadn’t considered the depths of Malcolm’s petty desire to see him ruined over a centuries old scientific disagreement.
“Esteemed Council,” he says, offering them all a bow. “The chairman has laid the facts out to you as he perceived them. I freely admit that I warded Richard Simmons’ apartment, but it was not to hide him from you. I would have presented him to you once my research was complete.”
When Cassandra leans forward and gestures for him to go on, looking curious, he does.
“I reasoned that there were two possibilities. Either he was a delusional or amnesiac witch, in which case I wouldn’t waste your valuable time with the farce, or he was a fluke of nature. I wanted to know exactly what was happening before I presented my findings to the Council.”
Drell snorts, but before he can say anything, Malcolm speaks first.
“And how were your children involved in your little experiment?”
Drell scowls. There’s a flash of magic and he holds up an enormous gold watch, which ticks loudly and obnoxiously before it disappears again. “You all are wasting our time. Get to the point! What experiment has Malcolm tearing out his hair?”
“Metaphorically speaking,” Cassandra says as Malcolm’s expression shifts from irritation at the joke about his baldness to anticipation. He watches Leonard with an almost imperceptible smile.
Leonard takes a breath. Everyone’s eyes are on him. He isn’t entirely certain why Malcolm didn’t tell the Council precisely why they were here, but he supposes it’s time to be as matter-of-fact as possible. “I discovered that Richard Simmons, under certain conditions and with access to effluvium, can cast spells.”
There’s a long silence. Then the Council bursts out laughing.
Drell laughs so hard that tears spring into his eyes. “A mortal, doing magic? Leonard, you should still have a millennia before your mind starts going!” He’s oblivious to the way Malcolm’s eyes narrow at the unintended slight.
Leonard studies the laughing Council. He can use this amusement, he thinks. “Your understandable reactions are precisely why I wanted to conduct research first. If he could do magic, it would be unprecedented. And I didn’t want it to reach the wider witch community before I brought my findings to you.”
“Yet your children are involved,” Malcolm interjects. For the first time since they had entered the Council chambers, there’s a bite to his words. When Leonard looks at him, he sees frustration plain on Malcolm’s face, one hand curled into a fist at his side.
“I, uh, teach at their school,” Richard says quickly. He looks slightly annoyed by the laughter. “They figured it out themselves.” When the entire Council looks at him like he’s a dog that’s learned how to speak, most of them smiling as though he’s an amusing party trick, he flushes a splotchy, furious red and stares back with a rising challenge in his eyes.
Leonard draws a breath. He needs to speak up before Richard can antagonize the Council.
The breath catches in his throat when Malcolm meets his eyes and smiles.
It’s a self-satisfied smile, and Leonard feels an uneasy prickle go down his spine a second before Malcolm says mildly, the smugness not quite leaking into his voice, “Interesting witches, Leonard, your children. When I began my research into Richard Simmons, I examined our lists of those who told mortals they were witches to see how he even learned of magic. There was no record. I believe that a familiar telling a mortal about magic isn't something that's happened before, so the spell didn't pick up on it.”
All three Council members straighten up at that. Cassandra’s eyes narrow speculatively. “What an intriguing loophole,” she murmurs in a tone that’s hard to read.
“ONE THAT SHOULD BE CLOSED IMMEDIATELY!” Drell roars.
Malcolm twists his lips briefly, so quickly that Leonard wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t watching, before he turns an earnest look upon the Council. “Of course. We are already crafting the updated spell, sir. So while I can only assume Dexter Grif told the mortal, I did also stumble upon something interesting. The young Church children told five mortals they were witches in the same evening.”
Drell starts sputtering, red-faced, as Skippy blinks. He holds up his hand.
“Yes, indeed. Five in a single night!”
Cassandra purses her lips in disapproval. She studies Carolina and Church. Carolina looks slightly defiant, while Church slouches and offers up a sickly smile. “And how many of them have been turned to stone?”
“None,” Leonard interjects. “Carolina and Church chose their friends wisely. All of them have kept the secret for months now.”
Malcolm spreads his hands, still the picture of earnest concern that Leonard knows to be a lie. “Perhaps, but it’s only a matter of time before one of them slips up. I don’t have to tell you, Councilors, the risks involved. With every additional mortal they tell, the greater the danger to themselves and to the Other Realm. It begs the question on whether or not they are responsible enough to keep their licenses or if—”
“What?” Church squawks at the same time Carolina snaps, “You can’t do that!”
“Or if they perhaps need a few more years of education under the guidance of a different set of guardians and quizmaster,” Malcolm continues, ignoring them. “It would be regrettable, of course, but their safety and the safety of the Other Realm must come first.”
Carolina looks up at Leonard. The outrage in her face gives way, temporarily, to uncertainty. “Can he do that?”
Leonard doesn’t let the dread creep into his face, even if he feels it with every fiber of his being. So this is Malcolm’s plan. It’s not enough to charge Leonard and likely wipe Richard’s memories of his magic use. Malcolm is trying to hurt his family as much as he possibly can. And at the moment, Leonard can’t see any way out of this trap Malcolm has set.
“I am… I’m afraid so. The Subhead committee handles both familiars as well as witch education. Unless the Council overrides him, he is fully authorized to make such a decision.”
“Does that–” Carolina stops. Her jaw works. “What would that mean?”
Malcolm interrupts them with mock sympathy. “Miss Church, it would mean that you and your half-brother would go to live with a new guardian for an additional two years. I think perhaps one in the Other Realm would be best.”
Church is staring at Malcolm. He doesn’t look afraid anymore. He looks angry. “You’re gonna take her mom away from her. Again.”
“Unfortunately–”
“No,” Carolina says. If Church is angry, she is furious. Her eyes blaze like green flame. Louder, she says, “No! I didn’t break your stupid rules. My friends didn’t tell anyone! And I— I just got my mom back!”
Malcolm smiles pityingly. “Stupid rules? It’s clear that your impressionable mind has not been shaped as it should be. Do you even see anything wrong with what your father has been doing!”
“I don’t,” Carolina says hotly. “If mortals can do magic too, let them.”
The Council scowls.
Drell leans over the desk, glaring. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course I do!” Carolina says. “My mom’s mortal, remember? Which is why I didn’t get to see her for two years! And why I told my friends the truth, because I needed someone to confide in about all the weird magic stuff since you wouldn’t let me talk to my mom! And made me live with strangers! How are any kids like me supposed to enjoy being a witch when you make the first two years horrible?”
Skippy gives the smallest shrug of acknowledgement, but Drell and Cassandra look alternatively irate and stern.
Malcolm sighs. “My point has been proven. If you had responsible adults around you, perhaps you and your half-brother would not be standing before the Council charged with Excessive and Reckless Fraternization with Mortals and violating the Charitable Purposes Law.”
“How did they manage that violation?” Cassandra asks. “Helped their friends with homework?”
“No, ma’am,” Malcolm says. “They clearly assisted Richard Simmons over the last few months with these experiments with magic.”
Drell snorts. “Deluding a mortal into thinking he’s doing magic isn’t charitable, Malcolm. It’s just a trick most young witches play in their first century before they get it out of their system.”
“I’m not delusional!” Richard protests, his voice cracking.
Leonard latches onto Richard’s argument. He clears his throat. “Councilors, I assure you there is no trick here. And further, I would argue that you waive the charge of violating Charitable Purposes Law for myself and my children.”
“Oh?” Malcolm says, eyes narrowing.
“I was doing my best to perform an act of service on behalf of the entire witch community. Surely if a mortal can do magic, we need to study the phenomena and understand what it means for the future.”
Carolina steps forward, Church instinctively shadowing her, looking anxious but determined as he stares up at the Council. Leonard’s chest clenches. She looks so much like her mother when she’s righteously angry.
She glares. “If mortals can do magic too, then there’s no difference between anyone and all your rules are stupid.”
Leonard doesn’t wince, though it is a close call. He’s simultaneously filled with pride and dread. Pride that Carolina understands what Richard being able to use magic proves, and dread that she has said it so bluntly. He had hoped to offer the idea that the laws regarding mortals should be revisited, but not while they were on trial.
The Council stares down at her, stone-faced.
“That’s twice you’ve called our laws stupid,” Cassandra says icily.
Leonard steps forward, putting his hand on Carolina’s arm. “She is emotional, Councilor. She’s just been told that she might be separated from her family for another two years. Four years is not so long for us, but–” His throat tightens. For a second he can’t speak. He thinks of Allison and the new silver strands in her hair. “It’s a significant amount of time for mortals.”
“Again, unfortunate,” Malcolm says, back to fake sympathy. “But the point stands that you hid this mortal from the Council, assisted him with these magic experiments, and–”
Richard’s voice cut through Malcolm’s latest speech. “You know what? You've talked around these experiments a lot, but you haven't described them.”
Malcolm sneers faintly. “That hardly matters.”
“No,” Richard says quietly. The word still carries. His face is pale but resolute in a way Leonard hasn’t seen from him before. He looks up at the three witches above them. “I think the Council needs a demonstration.” He doesn’t flinch even when the Council laughs again.
“Oh, please,” Drell says, leaning back in his chair. “This is getting boring. Go ahead with your little parlor trick. Show us your magic.” He wiggles his fingers with a snort on the last word.
Skippy nods in agreement, eyeing Richard with curiosity, while Malcolm looks irritated again.
“I don't know if it's necessary to humiliate the mortal….”
Cassandra waves a hand. “Drell, Skippy, and I wish to see this demonstration.” Her voice drips almost honey-sweet with condescension. “Let’s see what the mortal has been fooled into thinking magic is, and then we can show him the truth before we decide the sentence and punishment for this fraternization.”
Richard swallows. His hand goes to his throat. For a second Leonard thinks it’s him struggling with nerves before he draws out a gaudy quartz necklace from under his shirt. “I have a spell I've been working on, if you'd like to see my efforts.”
Drell rolls his eyes. “Get on with it. Do your spell.”
Leonard keeps his eyes on Richard. What spell does he intend to cast? If he had time to offer advice, Leonard would have suggested the apples to oranges spell. A simple yet inarguable bit of easily repeated magic, with the strong symbolic undercurrent of a young witch beginning their training. But he remembers Richard’s impatience with even the fruit tree spells. And besides, it’s clear that Richard’s spell will involve that quartz somehow.
Quartz is an excellent conductor of magic and Richard has always been frustrated by his limitations. Perhaps he has been experimenting with ways to use natural magic or infuse the quartz with effluvium instead of relying on leylines and witches’ spells.
It truly sinks in that Richard is about to cast magic. In front of the Council.
Leonard clears his throat. “Before he does, Councilors, may I remind you that my and my children’s magical signatures are on file? The records of what happens in this room will prove that none of us assisted him.”
“Uh huh,” Drell says dismissively, though Cassandra nods towards Leonard, clearly humoring him.
Malcolm narrows his eyes before he glances towards Richard. Leonard sees the second that he decides Leonard has desperately offered Richard up as a scapegoat because he smirks faintly. “Very well.”
“Right,” Richard says. His voice shakes, though his resolute expression doesn’t falter. One hand keeps holding onto the necklace while the other hand fumbles with his satchel. “Uh, I need– Grif?”
Dexter has been crouched at his feet since the threat of extending his sentence, making himself as low to the ground and small as possible, while simultaneously doubling his size with his fur standing on end. His eyes are slits, his ears plastered to his head, though the ears flick a little at his name.
His voice comes out as a strangled growl. “Yeah?”
Richard looks down at Dexter.
His expression changes then, and Leonard feels another prickle of unease. He knows that look, the protective tenderness softening Richard’s features. It is similar to the look Dexter gave Leonard all those months ago when he interrupted them as cats. It is, he knows, because he has seen this look on his own face in the mirror: the expression of a man about to do something either very foolish or very brave for someone he loves.
Richard kneels and picks Dexter up in a practiced gesture. Dexter makes a resigned noise even as Leonard catches the subtle flex of his paws as he kneads Richard’s sweater for a few seconds before he stops.
“Just, uh, forget about the Council.”
Dexter snorts. “Yeah, I’ll do that,” he mutters sarcastically, though Leonard knows enough to catch the trace of fondness under the sarcasm and fear.
Richard grimaces. “Right. That was. Stupid. Uh.” He smooths a hand over Dexter’s bristling fur, a gesture that makes Skippy raise his eyebrows, Cassandra look intrigued, and Drell roll his eyes. Richard doesn't notice their reactions, looking down at Dexter. “Just– focus on me, okay?”
Dexter looks up. His eyes are still slits, his fur still bristling, but his ears prick up just a little. He licks the tip of his nose, watching Richard. “...Okay.”
Richard gives him a scratch behind the ears before he takes a few steps forward and sets Dexter down on the floor. Dexter crouches there, his tail slowly thrashing, his eyes fixed on Richard, who reaches into his satchel and pulls out a small box.
Inside is a piece of chalk that glimmers orange and red. Leonard stares at it with misgiving. What spell could possibly involve Dexter and runes? He thinks of all the books that Richard has borrowed from him since Thanksgiving – tomes on the foundations of magic, on crafting spells, on curses – all texts that he gave in the understanding of Richard’s desire to learn as much about magic as possible.
He is beginning to think he’s miscalculated the depths of Richard’s desire for knowledge and perhaps one of his driving motivations to learn magic.
Richard crafts a ritual circle like a man who has practiced this so many times that he can do it in his sleep. His face is colorless, but his entire body radiates purpose and focus as he draws the intricate runes around a motionless Dexter.
Leonard startles when a warm hand slides into his. He looks at Carolina, who’s watching with anxious anticipation, her other hand clutching Church’s, who looks baffled. In Carolina’s face there’s no doubt that whatever spell Richard is about to do will work.
After a second, Leonard squeezes her hand.
When Richard finishes, he sits back on his heels. He takes a deep breath as he pulls the quartz pendant out from under his shirt again. It dangles in the air between him and Dexter for a moment.
Then he looks at Dexter and smiles.
There’s terror in the smile, but also a strange play of excitement and calm fighting for dominance. It is the expression of someone who knows what he’s doing is foolhardy, but who is convinced beyond all doubt that he will succeed. Richard’s expression holds no possibility for failure.
Richard holds out the quartz.
The chain is wrapped tightly around his hand, but there's enough give that the quartz swings in front of Dexter's face. The familiar’s whiskers flick forward in interest, while his confused, unblinking stare stays focused on Richard.
Richard takes one more breath, breathing in deep, his eyes half-closing as though he’s tasting the air. Then his voice, free of tremors if not strain, begins to recite an incantation.
“While you are trapped in a catskin shell,
twisted and pressed into a cursed shape,
I stand here armed with quartz and my spell.
Your punishment we both know well.
One you cannot hope to escape
while you are trapped in a catskin shell.”
Leonard hears Drell laugh, but he doesn’t look away from Richard and that slowly swinging quartz. The words have the cadence of an incantation but the rhythmic quality of a poem. He has read theories on incorporating other forms of poetry besides the traditional rhyming couplet into the repetition of a ritual, but has never used them himself.
Clearly Richard has crafted the spell with care, each word and phrase chosen meticulously. Leonard simply doesn’t know what Richard intends.
He spies the second that the spell begins to work, white leeching from the quartz and replaced by a familiar maroon tint swirling within the rock. The focused look on Richard’s face flickers to brief giddy triumph before he licks his lips and continues.
“For the bond we share I do compel
your form to once again reshape,
while armed with quartz and my spell.”
“No way,” Church whispers beside him, shocked.
Leonard darts a quick glance at him and sees Church’s eyes are wide, his mouth slack.
He almost asks what Church thinks Richard is doing, when the next stanza catches his attention.
“Ten full years you were meant to dwell
far from home, to crawl and scrape
while trapped in this catskin shell.”
Richard’s grip tightens on the chain wrapped around his hand, a gesture that makes the quartz swing a little more forcefully. It almost taps Dexter’s nose, but Dexter doesn’t even blink, watching Richard with a look Leonard can’t interpret.
There’s a challenging note in Richard’s voice. His shoulders are tense, and Leonard gets the impression that if he could, he would look away from Dexter and glare up at the Council, who are staring at him.
Drell scowls at the obvious challenge to the Council. Skippy is squinting around the room. Cassandra looks uneasy. Everyone can feel something in the room shift, a pressure that signals powerful magic beginning to bear down on them all.
The chain around Richard’s hand begins to smoke, but Richard doesn’t flinch.
“But all magic can be broken, stories tell.
So let me free you from this cursed shape,
armed with quartz and my spell.”
Carolina’s hand squeezes Leonard’s hand so tightly that pain twinges up his arm, but he barely notices, too busy reeling with shock. Her expression is one of wonder, clearly not aware of the impossibility of what Richard is attempting.
Richard is truly trying to break a Council spell. The familiar spell. A spell that no one in the history of witchdom has ever been able to break. A curse surely sealed with all the authority that these three witches can muster, who are now watching Simmons with unfeigned shock.
Even with all the magic swirling around them and gathering force, Leonard cannot quite bring himself to believe it will work. He nevertheless finds himself hoping it will, and frantically begins making plans for the aftermath. The Council will be furious.
Richard pauses.
That earlier look returns to his face, the strange calm. He smiles down at Dexter. The final part of the incantation comes out soft and slightly hoarse, not so much a spell any longer but a vow that is filled with so much emotion that the pressure in the air seems to increase tenfold in anticipation.
“What comes next, I cannot tell,
but I will break this curse, you will escape,
no longer trapped in this catskin shell,
freed by my quartz and my spell.”
The chain blazes a brilliant maroon as the quartz, still swinging, cracks. Richard’s magic spills forth from the stone like a tidal wave, washing over Dexter and concealing him and Richard from view even as the pressure in the chambers vanishes like it’s never been.
There’s a beat of silence.
Then Church whispers, “Did it work?”
The maroon magic dissipates like fog to reveal Dexter Grif, fully a witch again, barefoot and wearing only sweatpants and a ratty T-shirt.
Richard smiles, swaying on his feet. He reaches out trembling hands, fingers clutching at the front of Dexter’s shirt. He sounds almost drunk as he says, “There you are.”
Dexter makes a low sound in his throat, agreement or amazement, and then untangles one of Richard’s hands from the fabric. It’s only now that Leonard notices the injury, dozens of tiny, agonizing-looking red welts as though the chains had been seared into Richard’s skin. A few drops of blood drip onto the remnants of the ritual circle.
Dexter cradles the hand in his. The shock in his face gives way to something else.
Richard hisses in surprise and then relief as orange magic swirls around their joined hands and the welts diminish into fine, pale scars that look as though the injury was from months ago. He looks down at his hand and then up at Dexter with a wondering smile.
Even watching, Leonard can’t tell who initiates the kiss.
Dexter and Richard kiss like men drowning, like this is the first and last time they will get the chance. Even as Richard sways closer and Dexter’s free hand curls into his tousled red hair, Leonard feels one last pulse of magic sweep through the room.
When the kiss finally ends, they don’t pull away, reluctance obvious even as they both lean back just enough to breathe.
Richard’s face is flushed scarlet. He somehow looks more shocked by the kiss than he did breaking the spell. Just as quickly as the flush floods his face, however, the red drains from it, along with all other colors except for a sickly gray as the magical backlash hits him.
“...What?” The strangled whisper comes Scrooge, half-forgotten in the corner.
The room, shocked in stillness, begins to move again.
Carolina’s hand is slack in Leonard’s. He gives it a squeeze. She blinks up at him and starts to smile.
Church breathes out a, “Holy crap,” and begins to struggle with his hooded jacket. When Carolina and Leonard look at him, puzzled, he rolls his eyes and gives them a dazed grin. “Dude’s about to fall over. He’ll need a pillow.”
“I’m not– I’m—” Richard stops. The earlier swaying becomes a decided wobble.
“Um,” Dexter says. His grin falters as Richard sinks against him, his scarred hand still clutching onto Dexter’s. “You okay?” When Richard mumbles something, he looks over Richard towards Leonard. “He’s okay, right?”
Leonard feels a moment’s unease. The intensity of the backlash, the power of the spell–
But Carolina lets go of his hand and walks forward. Even knowing the enormity of what Richard has accomplished, Leonard finds himself comforted by the confidence in her voice as she says, “He’ll be fine. Let’s get him on the ground with his feet up.”
“Right,” Dexter says. He makes a careful, ungraceful movement that ends with Richard stretched out onto the floor, his head pillowed on Dexter’s thigh, his eyes half-shut and his face gray, though a few spots of color try gamely to return to his cheeks when Dexter runs his hand through Richard’s hair.
“We need water. And something sugary,” Carolina says.
Scrooge, still staring, wordlessly summons a waterskin and a plate of cookies.
“Oatmeal?” Church says, wrinkling his nose. “Dude just did serious magic, at least give him chocolate chip.”
Leonard looks up towards the Council, whose shock is ebbing. In its wake is the beginning of fury and alarm and hurried calculation. He watches their faces for a moment, his own mind racing, trying to figure out what avenues Richard’s bold act of defiance have closed off and what avenues it has opened.
Cassandra looks simply overwhelmed, clearly reeling from the implications, but in Skippy’s face he sees the briefest moment of potential, excitement and intrigue as Skippy studies Richard and Dexter for another second.
Then Skippy glances sideways at Drell, whose face is turning a violent, dangerous purple. He straightens in his seat and begins making elaborate gestures with his mouth and eyebrows.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN? IT’S OBVIOUS WHAT WE NEED TO DO. WE–”
Another frantic movement of Skippy’s eyebrows, even more empathic.
“YOU’RE JUST BEING ROMANTIC. IT’S YOUR WORST QUALITY. THIS IS–”
Skippy waves his arm in Drell's direction.
“NOW THAT'S JUST UNCALLED FOR!”
A sharp sound rings out as Skippy smacks the table.
“BUT–”
Skippy crosses his arms and frowns.
“CASSANDRA, TELL HIM HE’S BEING RIDICULOUS!” Drell turns towards Cassandra, who is still staring at Dexter and Richard. When she doesn’t even look towards him, he growls. “FINE!” He slams his fist onto the table again.
Leonard flinches as he feels a familiar tug in his stomach. A teleportation spell? Are they being sent back to the jail cell while the Council deliberates what to do next? The last thing he sees in the room before Drell’s magic expels him from the Council chambers is Malcolm’s face, ashen with shock, hatred contorting his features as his eyes meet Leonard’s.
Then Leonard blinks.
They are not in the jail cell. Instead they are in the waiting room, Dexter still cross-legged on the floor, Richard’s head in his lap, Carolina holding the waterskin and Church clutching the cookie plate. The only other occupants are Vanessa and Emily, both leaping out of their chairs in surprise, and an unfamiliar woman who nevertheless cannot be anyone but Dexter’s family.
The woman throws herself down onto the floor, slinging her arms around Dexter. “Holy schist! I thought you were ducking toast, bro! How’d you sweet-talk them into ending your sentence?”
“I didn’t,” Dexter says, staring down at Richard. His hand is still in Richard’s hair, something his sister notices with interest. “Simmons, uh. Broke the spell.”
Despite his pallor, his eyes still shut, a smile flickers across Richard’s face.
Vanessa blinks. “He what?”
Emily’s eyes widen. She looks at Leonard. When he nods in confirmation, she giggles. “Oh my! I can’t imagine the Council is happy about that! What an exciting revelation….”
“Indeed,” Leonard says dryly.
“Simmons broke the spell,” Dexter’s sister repeats slowly.
Leonard begins to cast a diagnostic incantation. He intends to confirm his suspicions, but the spark of blue magic sputters out as Dexter’s sister shifts, leaning over Dexter to stare down at Richard and block both of the men from view. There’s a loud smacking noise as she kisses Richard on the forehead and says, her voice slightly wobbly, “Way to ducking go.”
Church snickers as Richard opens his eyes and makes a decent attempt at blushing again. “Two kisses in one day? Probably a record for– ow!” He rubs at his arm and scowls at Carolina, who just raises an eyebrow.
As delighted understanding brightens Dexter’s sister’s face, Leonard attempts the spell again.
This time he succeeds, the swirl of blue magic illuminating Dexter’s startled face. The diagnostic runes pulse for a moment before Leonard has his confirmation. He still hears the shock in his voice as he says, “Richard broke the spell and sealed it with one of his own, no less. I think even the Council might have trouble returning Dexter to his familiar form.”
Richard weakly bristles, but Dexter’s sister surges to her feet. “If the Council wants to try, they’re going through me.”
Dexter stares down at Richard. “You sealed it?”
“‘Course,” Richard says hoarsely.
Dexter opens his mouth, then closes it.
“You need to eat something,” Carolina says firmly, snatching a cookie off the plate Church is still holding. She presses it into Richard’s hand, the unscarred one, and hovers over him, Dexter, and Dexter’s sister until he gets it to his mouth and takes a bite.
Emily seems delighted by the inevitable chaos, but Vanessa looks thunderstruck. She sidles over to Leonard. “What do you– the Council is going to–” She stops and blows out a breath, shrugging her shoulders. “This is going to shake things up.” Even before the sentence escapes her lips, she laughs. “Merlin’s beard, that’s the understatement of the century.”
“Perhaps,” Leonard says, even more dryly.
“And drink something,” Carolina says. “Can you sit up, or are you still dizzy?”
Leonard is relieved to see the cookie seems to have brought a little color back to Richard’s face, though Richard does wince as he sits up, still leaning heavily against Dexter. The back of his neck turns pink. Then he squints at the waterskin. “What is that?”
“Old people’s water bottle,” Dexter’s sister says. “Drink up!”
Richard has just finished the waterskin when the double doors reopen.
Everyone tenses as Malcolm strides out into the waiting room.
Leonard does too, at least until he sees the flat expression on Malcolm’s face and the small, barely noticeable twitch in his jaw. He doesn’t dare hope they will get out of this completely scot-free, but he feels a spark of hope at whatever decision the Council has made to cause that seething frustration.
“The Council has made their decision,” Malcolm says in clipped, professional tones. “Come inside.”
Richard wobbles as Dexter helps him to his feet. He’s looking a little better, but still too wan for Leonard’s liking. The man should be home in bed, recovering from the backlash. Richard lists into Dexter’s side as they re-enter the chambers.
The Council are still seated in their usual chairs. When Leonard studies their faces, Drell looks furious and isn’t trying to hide it, having summoned his mole. He’s petting it so intently that the mole squirms in his grip, letting out snuffles of protests. Cassandra looks pensive more than anything else, staring at Richard as though she would like to put him under a microscope.
And Skippy has self-satisfaction radiating off of him. When everyone enters the room, he beams at Dexter and Richard and gives them both a thumb’s up.
“Stop gloating,” Drell snarls at him.
Skippy looks contrite for a second, but as soon as Drell refocuses on the group, he begins to smile again.
Cassandra leans forward, steepling her fingers and resting her chin on them. She looks the entire group over for a moment, eyebrows rising a little when she sees that Vanessa, Emily, and Dexter’s sister have entered as well. Her lips purse, but she doesn’t order them out. Instead she clears her throat and looks at Leonard.
Even with Skippy’s smile, Leonard still feels his stomach twist. He holds his breath as she stares at him for a long moment.
“Leonard Church. While the Council will advise you not to take this as license to attempt this again with other mortals, your experiment clearly has merit. We expect a copy of your notes on the subject immediately and to be kept up to date with every new development.”
Leonard breathes out slowly. He offers her and the other Councilors a deep bow. “Yes, Councilors.”
Cassandra looks at the rest of the group, though Leonard notes that her gaze seems to skip over Dexter as though he isn’t there. Her voice grows stern. “Carolina Church. James Church. While you have not violated any laws, Malcolm had a point. I would advise you to think very carefully before you tell any other mortals you are witches. Your luck will not last.”
Carolina looks slightly mulish, but Church nods. “Got it!” He pantomimes zipping his mouth shut.
Cassandra pauses.
“As for the charges of Reckless and Excessive Fraternization with Mortals and violation of the Charitable Acts law, we find that these are extenuating circumstances. All charges are hereby dropped.”
Dexter’s sister starts to cheer, then makes a face when Cassandra interrupts, her voice sharp.
“You will find yourselves back in this chamber and with even more intense punishments in store if any of you prove indiscreet in this matter. We’ll have no mention of the doctor’s experiment bandied about in the Other Realm until he has finished with this experiment.”
Drell snarls, “OR YOU’LL BE SORRY!”
Still wan, Richard gets a similarly mulish expression on his face. Obviously he’s coherent enough to notice that Cassandra is talking around the situation and almost acting as though he and Dexter don’t exist.
Before he can say anything that would jeopardize this unexpected leniency, Leonard clears his throat. He gives another bow. “I am sure we all understand the ramifications of this experiment. I shall get you my notes and update you on every new discovery, Councilors. Let us not take up any more of your valuable time.”
Skippy smiles and gives them all a wave while Drell’s eyes narrow.
“THEN GET LOST!”
Thankfully it isn’t a magical command, just a frustrated snarl. The chamber doors swing open. Richard, sandwiched between Dexter and his sister, is hustled swiftly outside, but the doors almost shut on Church.
He yelps and jumps forward as the doors snap closed. Rubbing at his posterior, he grumbles, “Okay, glad we’re not in jail. What’s next?”
“I want to go home,” Carolina says.
There’s the faintest catch in her voice, but it’s infectious. Leonard feels his own throat go tight. Malcolm had threatened his family and proposed taking Allison away from them again. Leonard will not forget that.
He clears his throat again. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”
Emily giggles. “I think dear Richard and Dexter and…?” She quirks an eyebrow.
“Kai.”
“And Kai should join us at the brownstone!”
Church squints at her. “You just want to poke and prod at Simmons like you did me.”
Emily giggles again. She looks unapologetic. Her hands go to her hips as she beams at Church. “A mortal experiencing a magical backlash? Of course I do! There’s no telling what strain it’s put his body under!”
Dexter glares, but Kai says, “Probably a good idea to get him checked over, bro.”
“I’m fine,” Richard protests. It might have been more believable if he weren’t still leaning against Dexter and there wasn’t a certain pallor to his skin. He still tries to glare when Emily smiles and says, “Nothing invasive, I promise!”
The Council building has teleportation closets that can be keyed to all registered witch closets. Leonard watches Emily place her hand onto the doorknob, mutter her address, and then open the door.
“Everyone, pile in!”
The rumble of thunder is one of the sweetest sounds Leonard has ever heard, even if he doesn’t believe they’ve gotten away with everything. The Council will stew on this. Something else will happen. It’s only a matter of time.
For the moment, however, he lets himself set that problem aside for later, because another sweet sound fills his ears: Allison’s feet as she bolts from the living room to the stairs. She bounds up the steps, her hair loose from her ponytail as though she’s been running her fingers through it, with a parade of mortal children close at her heels.
Their eyes meet. Allison searches his expression for a long second. Then she relaxes, her shoulders loosening. “Guess I don’t have to break anyone’s nose today.”
“Oh, that Malcolm guy would’ve deserved it,” Church mutters.
“All charges dropped,” Leonard says.
He suspects only Allison hears, because the teenagers peer around Allison and begin to shout questions. There are so many that they all end up jumbled together, a muddle of words and noises instead of decipherable questions, but the worried yells make Carolina smile.
It’s a slightly distracted smile, but she gives them all a grin before she squeezes past Emily on the stairs and walks straight into Allison’s arms.
Allison gives her a hug and then looks expectantly at Leonard and Church.
“Yeah, yeah,” Church says, a fake protest.
Once she has them all in her arms, awkwardly positioned on the staircase, Leonard drops his head to her shoulder and breathes her in. Leonard can feel the last of the tension drain from her and knows that she can probably feel the relief in him too.
“C’mon,” Allison says after a moment. Her voice is thick but brusque. “Let’s get some food into you. Dick looks about to fall over.”
“Wait,” Tucker says. When Leonard reluctantly pulls away from Allison, he discovers that Tucker is squinting up at the rest of the group, his eyes focused on a particular figure. “Who’re you?”
“The Easter Bunny,” Dexter deadpans.
“And the Easter Bunny’s sis,” Kai adds with a grin.
Caboose blinks. “Oh! I didn’t realize the Easter Bunny was a witch. Do you like your job?” Before anyone can respond, he turns his attention to Church. “Church!” He reaches out a long arm and tugs Church, mostly unresisting, past Allison and into another hug.
Church makes a token protest before he leans into the embrace.
The scene dissolves into a general, relieved chaos.
Everyone begins drifting down the stairs, with a few of the youths continuing to squint at Dexter and a few looking with concern at the still-pale Richard. Washington and Niner loop their arms through Carolina’s and grin at her. Questions and answers are flung around so quickly that Leonard is certain he misses half of them, though he doesn’t find himself bothered, staying close to Allison.
There’s a sharp rise in volume as someone yells, “THE CAT GUY?” and Kai begins to laugh.
“All right, motherduckers,” she says as they all reach the living room. “You know what’s next!”
“Food?” Church offers hopefully.
“Answers?” Connie asks.
“Diagnostic tests?” Emily suggests.
“Peace and quiet?” Richard mutters, sinking onto the couch. He doesn’t seem to notice that his scarred hand is still clasped in Dexter’s.
Kai rolls her eyes. “Wow, wussies. No!”
She claps her hands. There is an explosion of yellow sparks and fireworks.
“IT’S TIME TO PARTY!”
There’s a round of laughter and then a few flares of other magic as Vanessa and Emily begin to conjure enough food to feed an invading army. Or perhaps simply a small group of teenagers, Leonard muses, watching the youths descend on the pizza and hamburgers like starving wolves.
This is a momentary peace, he knows. There will be consequences for Richard breaking the Council’s own spell.
He sighs as Allison’s arm slings over his shoulder and she presses in close. Her breath is warm on his ear as she says, “I can see your brain turning somersaults and being a downer, Leonard. Take the win for a night. Look at our kids.”
Leonard obeys. He looks at Church, still half-tucked under Caboose’s arm as he tries to eat three pizza slices in one go, who’s radiating relief and happiness even while he almost chokes on the first bite. And he looks at Carolina, surrounded by friends who care about her, who catches him watching and beams at him.
He looks at Vanessa and Emily as well, who have become an unexpected part of the family as they cared for his children. Vanessa has an amused look on her face and a warning hand on Emily’s wrist while Emily pouts and gestures towards Richard, who has his head on Dexter’s shoulder and is clearly falling asleep.
It’s only when Allison presses a kiss to his jaw that he realizes he’s smiling.
“That’s better.”
Just like the season one finale, we don’t have an Honorable or Dishonorable Mention, or even a fun episode fact for you! Instead we have another interview with Benjamin Giraud, who you might remember was one of three writers who was in the writer’s room for the entire run. Let’s all leave nice comments for him as he takes time out of his busy schedule to answer this Q&A!
OhMyWitchyCarolina: Thanks again for speaking with us!
Benjamin Giraud: Thanks for asking me! It’s been fun watching new and old fans enjoy this show, thanks to this site and Hulu.
OMWC: As much as we’d like to take the credit, the show wouldn’t have gotten a fresh generation of fans if the show wasn’t amazing! Speaking of amazing, you know what we’re going to ask first.
BG: I have a feeling!
OMWC: THAT KISS!
BG: Yes.
OMWC: How did you get to write that scene and actually show it on TV? I mean, it was 1999. Ellen had only come out a few years earlier, and Will and Grace had only been on the air for two years.
BG: In all honesty? We’d been told we were getting canceled.
OMWC: Really?! I mean, I guess it makes sense, the second half of the season felt a little rushed at times, but I figured it was just the writers’ determination to get Carolina and Leonard reunited with Allison and not keep them and the viewers waiting!
BG: Well, there was a bit of that as well! We never intended to end the series with that reunion. Our original plan was to open season five off with it, and spend the first half of the season adjusting to this new normal. When we got word of the impending cancellation, though, we had to do some hasty reshuffling to make sure the fans would be satisfied by the finale!
OMWC: So the reunion was planned, just not for season four. Was the kiss always endgame?
BG: Not at all! We always planned for Grif and Simmons to be close, of course, but it was actually the actors who came to the writers’ room when we were planning season two—
OMWC: SEASON TWO?!! Sorry.
BG: Season two! I’ll admit that Grif was originally planned as just a discount Salem. The Powers That Be saw Salem’s popularity and wanted that for our show. We’d compromised by having him be the comic relief they wanted, but also Simmons’ confidant and an example of the Council’s unfairness to witches as well as half-mortals.
OMWC: Right. But then the actors showed up at the writers’ room?
BG: They sat us down and talked to us about their characters’ chemistry. And we realized they were right. Of course, we couldn’t promise them it would be anything more than subtext. Any whiff of it on a kids’ show would probably get us canceled. But we started testing the waters with Donut and Dufresne and laying the groundwork with a hazy plan of confirming it in the series finale. And when we found out we were being canceled and season four would be the last, and well, we had two seasons less time to figure out how that was going to happen.
OMWC: Wait. So if the kiss wasn’t planned….
BG: Neither was Simmons breaking the spell.
OMWC: Holy crap!
BG: Yeah, we figured out if we were getting canceled, why not go out with a bang? It’s not like they could cancel us twice!
OMWC: Except then you got renewed.
BG: Except then we got renewed…. Apparently there was so much controversy around the finale that it caused more interest. And we weren’t even the first to have a gay storyline on a kid’s show! My So Called Life was a 1994 show that only lasted a season, but they definitely paved the way. I’ll be honest, it probably helped that we were exploring adult relationships. I don’t think we could’ve pulled off something like Church and Tucker dating, for example. But yeah, while there were boycotts, there was enough interest that we got our unexpected renewal.
OMWC: And then you had to figure out what to do next.
BG: Heh. Yes.
OMWC: Well, I can’t ask too much else without going to spoilers for season five and don’t want to take up too much of your time, but is there anything else you’d like to talk about before you go?
BG: Just to thank you and the fans! It’s great to watch people enjoy something you put your heart and soul into. And for the show to still have meaning to so many people after so many years feels really special. Just, uh, bear with us for season five and six. You can imagine the struggle we had in the writers’ room, but I think it turned out pretty well!