A/N: Future cartoonverse, multi-parter, eventual CalebxWill. If the writers didn't want me to ship them, then they shouldn't have started setting the stage for it in the second episode with all that bantering/separated-from-the-group/Will-climbing-Caleb-like-a-tree business. It just feeds the plot bunnies, and I obey those little bastards, not the other way around.
The title is taken from a truly excellent album (and song) by Bic Runga.
Disclaimer: I don't own W.I.T.C.H.
Beautiful Collision
Prologue
Sweet sixteen. The irony wasn't lost on Will Vandom as she watched the numerals on her digital watch shift to 4:36 PM—the exact hour and minute of her birth. This was supposedly the most important birthday there was—at least until the one two years down the line. The one that usually got earmarked by some huge party, complete with a frilly cake, dozens of guests, and if the guest of honor was especially lucky, the keys to a brand-new sportscar parked outside at the curb.
That wasn't anywhere near the case with Will. Susan Vandom had always talked about throwing such a party for her Poopy Pumpkin, but Will had always been dead set against it. She'd never been comfortable having that kind of attention foisted upon her. Something her fellow Guardians knew, which hadn't stopped them from throwing a surprise shindig for her birthday three years earlier. Fortunately there wasn't any danger of a repeat incident, as it was a school night and they all had other things to do. Taranee was holed up studying for the SATs. Cornelia was stuck at home baby-sitting her sister while her parents went to some corporate gala, and Irma had offered to bring Chris over, suggesting they could kill two brats with one stone—er, that was, keep them occupied while they ordered pay-per-view and takeout from the Silver Dragon. And Hay Lin was going to the movies with a couple of girls from her printmaking class, an offer she'd extended to Will, who'd declined, as she'd already had long-standing plans to go out to dinner with Matt.
Matt. Her slightly improved mood sagged again at the reminder of her boyfriend. She'd been telling herself she should cut him some slack lately—the band took up virtually all of his free time, and after all, she wasn't being as supportive as she could have. But all day, there had been nothing. No note stuck into her locker, no gift upon her desk in homeroom. She'd caught a brief flash of him at lunch before he'd ducked out with his friends, most likely to go rehearse in the band room before their gig that night. Will had spent the entire period trying not to cry into her tray of congealed beef stroganoff, while Hay Lin and Taranee offered her sympathetic looks and Cornelia patted her hand, attempting to hit Irma with the free one when the brunette opened her mouth to apply some unkind epithet to Matt.
Which was why after school, she'd run straight to the park, not waiting up for anybody, and had used the Heart of Kandrakar to open a pulsing blue portal.
The Guardians' duties had diminished considerably in the last couple of years, ever since Elyon had been restored to the throne and her brother's shadow finally expunged from the land. No longer were they making nightly dashes through a rent in the Veil to halt evil on the other side, managing to squeeze in daily realm-defending between dates and algebraic equations. They just weren't needed. Now their visits had dwindled to once or twice monthly, if that—more often for Cornelia, who not only paid regular visits to Elyon at the palace to have dinner and gossip, but also had a boyfriend who happened to reside there.
Caleb had finally moved out of Hay Lin's basement a short while after Phobos's defeat and returned home to considerable accolades from the commonfolk of Meridian—only to end up working as an unpaid laborer for many of them. After all, he'd explained, there wasn't much for a rebel leader to do when there wasn't anything to rebel against. And although the formerly-oppressed populace had had more than two years to separate them from Phobos's unforgiving rule, they were by no means out of the woods yet. Homes still needed to be rebuilt and crops replanted. The recovery would take a long time, and Caleb intended to be part of it. Will found it admirable. She'd have expected nothing less from the iron-willed young rebel, who had been unfailingly at the Guardians' side during their crusade against Phobos. But when she had mentioned that to Cornelia, the prim blonde had seemed annoyed for some reason.
Perhaps they were hitting a rough patch. It must be hard, Will thought, trying to maintain a relationship when the two involved parties lived in parallel worlds. Compared to what Cornelia and Caleb had probably had to deal with over their three-year courtship, this latest thing with Matt was inconsequential. Will sincerely hoped that to be the case, and resolved to push it out of her mind for the time being as she walked through the knee-high grass of the Meridian flatlands. She'd come here for just a little reprieve. Just a couple of hours to put things in perspective before returning home to the "real" world.
The sun was beginning a slow descent toward the horizon, and the rich golden light illuminated the fields of wheat surrounding her, which were still being tended to by tirelessly working farmers. Several young children scurried about, carrying ceramic jugs of water to the men in the field. Will smiled, the day's earlier drama fading from her thoughts as she considered that even something as simple as the idyllic scene before her couldn't have taken place before the Heart of Kandrakar had passed to her hands. Some of the kids stared at her as she passed by, though she was fairly sure none recognized her as the winged leader of the Guardians. Which she wouldn't have wanted, anyway.
A modest yet sprawling structure with a thatched roof loomed before her, flanked by a stable and grain silo. Will swallowed, considering stopping there to ask for water—she hadn't had anything to drink since lunch and Meridian's unusually warm weather, hardly like that of Heatherfield in January, wasn't helping her growing thirst. Finally shedding her winter coat, she tried to make out if anyone was moving about the property, then finally spotted a figure leaving the grain silo with a heavy burlap sack under either arm.
A really…familiar figure.
"Caleb!" she called out gratefully, waving. The young man glanced up, visibly startled at the sound of her voice, and promptly dropped the load he was carrying. "Oops," Will muttered under her breath, and rushed over to help him.
"What's going on, Will?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing in seriousness. "Is something wrong? Where are the others?"
"No, nothing's wrong," Will insisted, who halted in staring at him instead of moving to grasp the sack of grain at her feet. She hadn't looked at him…really looked at him, in a long while and was stricken by how much he'd changed from the indignant fifteen-year-old who'd caught her in his arms at the bottom of an oubliette. Caleb was almost nineteen now and stood taller, prouder somehow. His musculature had always been defined, but now it stood out even more prominently beneath his snug-fitting shirt. His eyes no longer blazed with righteous anger toward a brutal regime, but instead smoldered with a different fire, that spoke of his love and utter dedication to his homeland and fellow people.
Smoldering. Huh. She'd never thought of that particular verb in conjunction with Caleb before and wondered what he'd think of it. She had a fair idea of what Cornelia would have thought of her saying so.
Caleb lifted an eyebrow at the frozen Will as he hoisted a sack over one shoulder. "You sure? You're just…standing there."
"Huh? Oh, yeah." She quickly bent over to lift the other sack, hoping the brief flicker of embarrassment would disappear from her face by the time she stood up. "No, I'm here by myself. I just needed to…you know…get away from things for a while. Clear my head. Forget about turning sixteen."
She cringed. That last part had just slipped out, and it was too much to hope for that the boy beside her would let it slip past. Caleb's face lit up.
"Of course! This is the time of year your people call January, right? I remember, your birthday was in January…January nineteenth."
Will nodded feebly. "Today." He remembers, she thought, her mood quickly sliding into despair again. He remembers, and Matt apparently doesn't.
"I remember that because of the carving," Caleb continued, carrying his sack of grain without any visible effort as Will struggled a few feet behind him. "I was afraid I wouldn't finish it in time for your party. It was really hard to find the dragon scales on such short notice, especially when you have to barter twenty gingarets for them from some shifty-eyed Zytherian. But your wings wouldn't have looked right without them."
That, Will thought, was quite possibly the sweetest thing he'd ever said to her, even if it wasn't entirely coherent. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond, so she ended up changing the subject. "I didn't know you were working here now," she said, continuing to hobble along behind him. "Do you move around a lot?"
"I go where I'm needed," he answered matter-of-factly. "This is a hoogong ranch owned by an old friend of mine—another retired rebel, actually. Built it with his own two hands after we ousted Phobos, but now he's hard up for hired hands, so I told him I'd stay on for a while and help with the grunt work."
"I see…why they call it…grunt work," Will panted as she gratefully dropped the load of grain once they'd reached the stables and rubbed at her sore arms.
Caleb laughed. "I'd give you the grand tour, except I'd never get done with the chores before nightfall. But you can hang out here while I feed them, if you want."
Will grinned back. "Sounds like a plan. Is there any way I could beg a glass of water off you?"
While Caleb was drawing water from the nearby well, Will perched herself on a wooden beam amid the curious stares of several hoogongs. The constant physical labor aspect didn't thrill her, but she could see why Caleb chose to make this his calling now. Meridian was finally returning to a land of peace and prosperity. The Guardians had merely enabled the change, but Caleb was the one who was actually helping to change it. It had to be really rewarding, she thought, gazing out at the farmers tending to their fields in the distance.
"You know, there isn't a day they don't speak of the Guardians—and what you've done for everyone."
Caleb was standing beside her again, holding a small ceramic jug as he followed her gaze. She thanked him as she accepted it and swallowed half its contents in one swig.
"Hey, we were just doing our job," Will smiled sheepishly, a little floored by the idea anyone would speak of her with any sort of reverence whatsoever. "But I think that job's done now. They don't really seem to need us anymore."
"Of course they will," Caleb stated forcefully as he lifted the sack Will had dropped and carried it inside the stable. "Meridian—oof—will always need the Guardians. Remember, your duty is to protect the Veil. Things might be quiet around here, but it can still be breached from the outside."
Will turned to watch him for a moment, as he stretched his arms over his head and moved to crack his neck. His shirt clung to him in several spots, darkened by the efforts of hard labor outside. She flushed, realizing she'd been staring at the small of his back for a couple of minutes already and quickly averted her eyes. Thank God Cornelia isn't around to see you staring at her man like this. Even though it doesn't mean anything. Nope, nothing at all. Just needed a place to rest my eyes, and…he was in the way.
"So, what does Cornelia think about your new life as a day laborer?" she asked lightly, by way of saving face.
Much to her surprise, Caleb pulled a grimace at the mention of the Earth Guardian and his longtime girlfriend. "She doesn't. She actually scolded me for not taking the position Queen Elyon offered. Said that not only was I being ungrateful, I had to be crazy to want to do this instead."
Will's eyes widened, aware she'd unintentionally hit a nerve. She did know Elyon had offered to make Caleb the captain of the Meridian royal guard, in exchange for his past service in helping remove Phobos from the throne, but he had declined. She hadn't been clear on the details, though. Well, this latest information certainly helped shed light on why Cornelia had been wearing an expression indicative of severe indigestion whenever the subject of her boyfriend came up.
"I can't explain it to her," Caleb continued, as he tore open a sack of grain with a short knife. "If she'd even listen to me. Every time we're together she starts talking about something called the SAT bearing down on her head. I assume that's one of your native Earth monsters. And some medical condition she has called 'premature senioritis.' I don't know why she doesn't just see a healer about it, if it's that bad—"
Caleb stopped when he realized Will was laughing, and narrowed his eyes.
"I'm sorry," Will giggled, wiping the corner of her eye before moving on. "Really. I'm done now. But…Cornelia's probably just thinking of the last time you did hard labor for a living—when Cedric chained you to the rock pile."
"That was different," Caleb huffed as he filled a wooden trough with grain. "Sario was slaving beside me at the quarry, too. Now he owns this place. I'm doing it to help him out. I'm better put to use out here, helping my people get back on their feet, than cooped up in a palace giving orders. Even if it meant I'd have a better wardrobe…and that Cornelia would be proud of me," he added darkly.
"Caleb! That's not true!" Will stared at him, aghast at his sudden candor. "I know she's proud of you."
"Yeah, well, sometimes I wonder," Caleb muttered, barely glancing at the hoogong who had sidled up beside him in order to get first crack at the trough. "And I'm sure she wonders, too. What it would be like to have a boyfriend who understands her Earth jokes and doesn't show up for a date smelling like the inside of a hoogong stable. Maybe if I knew how to slay the SAT creature…"
It took every ounce of Will's self-control to not laugh at that last bit. "You're wrong," she said firmly, keeping the corner of her mouth in check. "She's so lucky to have you. Any girl would be lucky to have you."
There was silence, then Caleb's eyes rose, little by little, to meet Will's. "Any girl?" he asked quietly.
Heat rushed into Will's cheeks, staining them the color of her hair. "Uh, yeah, of course!" she heard herself babble. "You're really good to have around in a tight spot." She tried not to look at Caleb's quizzical expression. "And you tend not to let things like rampaging hordes of ogres get in your way. And you don't forget things like…like birthdays…"
She faltered here, hoping Caleb wouldn't somehow pick up on her unfinished train of thought. Of course, he did.
"If it's your birthday, Will, where's Matt?" One eyebrow arched. "Did he forget?"
His bluntness was one of his best qualities, Will thought, as well as one of his worst. "No, no, of course not." She forced a nervous little laugh. "We're, uh, we're going out to dinner later. It's just, you see, that his band had this really big gig tonight. You know, record industry guy in the audience and everything. So I'm sure it kind of got pushed out of his mind—temporarily. It's, you know, it's nothing."
"Which is why you're here with me and not him," Caleb countered, frowning, despite the fact that he clearly didn't believe her for a second, or know what the words "record industry" or "gig" meant.
"Ummm…yeah. Well. Anyway. I should probably be heading home now. Gotta get ready!" She flashed him a bright smile that was in no way indicative of her true mood. "Well, I'll see you later, Caleb, I—"
"Will. Wait." Caleb stood up suddenly, rifling through his pockets as he did so. "I have something for you."
Oh, no. A present. He'd actually gotten her a present when Matt hadn't. Had he just been saving it all this time, on the off chance he happened to see her on her birthday? Will bit her lip, watching Caleb extract a linen-wrapped package no bigger than his thumb from his right hip pocket, which he handed to her. "Caleb, you didn't—" she mumbled, but he appeared not to hear her.
"It's not as nice as the one you've already got, and it certainly doesn't have the traditional value or class of a chicken-skin hat, but maybe it'll…how does Cornelia say it…go with something. I never really understood that phrase. Anyway, you don't have to open it now. Do it later. When you're celebrating."
Will looked blankly from the tiny bundle to Caleb's expectant face, and swallowed, vaguely aware of something like her heart having suddenly lodged in her throat. "Thanks, Caleb," she managed, her voice cutting out a little. "I really…uh…thanks."
And she had to fight the urge to close her eyes, so she wouldn't have to see Caleb regarding her with those suddenly strange eyes. They were wistful and resigned and maybe the teeniest little bit hopeful, and that was terrifying, because he'd never looked at her that way. Never looked at her as anything other than the leader of the Guardians or a short redhead with an attitude.
He opened his mouth to speak, and Will's fear suddenly manifested as prickles on the back of her neck. It's nothing, stupid. He's probably just going to wish you happy birthday.
Instead, he offered her a somber smile. "Good luck, Will."
Will tried to return the smile, but found herself running as fast as she could across the flatlands of Meridian, a wad of linen clenched tightly in her fist, and didn't stop until she was on the other side of a portal.
"Would you like another order of breadsticks, madam?"
The waiter was clearly not pleased with Will's taking advantage of the free-breadsticks policy, judging by his disdainful tone of voice. Will sighed and propped her chin in one hand. "No, thanks. Just another glass of water, please."
"I'll replenish your lemon slice while I'm at it," the waiter replied dryly, lifting her glass from the table and striding off. Will stared morosely after him. She hadn't wanted to order until Matt showed up, and now she was so full of garlic bread and tap water that she didn't want to at all. Well, maybe a wedge of tiramisu to top it off. She deserved that much, at least.
She pulled her cell phone from her purse one more time, pinky finger tapping the dangling frog charm as she listened to the recorded voicemail greeting again. "Hey, it's Matt. Sorry I missed your call. You know what to do."
Except she didn't, anymore. "Hey, Matt…it's me again. Um…they stop serving at ten o'clock, and it's nine-twenty-seven now, so if you can get down here in fifteen minutes we can still manage to…" Will shook her head, snapping the phone shut with another sigh. "Never mind."
I should've stayed home and had that lame party that Mom always wanted me to have. I should've taken Hay Lin up on her offer to go to the movies. I should've gone over to Taranee's and crammed for the math portion of the SATs. Even her trying to explain trigonometric functions for the eighty-millionth time would've been more fun than this.
I…I should've spent the evening with Caleb instead.
Dropping the phone back in, she fished the package out and turned it over in her fingers. Since she didn't foresee any actual celebrating tonight, she might as well go ahead. Fingers fumbling nervously with the rough plant-fiber twine, she finally unrolled the piece of cloth to reveal a teardrop-shaped stone, pink-and-white marbled with tiny black veins. The stone was polished smooth and a hole had been drilled at the top, through which a thin leather cord had been laced. A necklace.
It's not as nice as the one you already have…He must mean the Heart of Kandrakar, Will thought, feeling a little amused at the notion of the Heart being a mere accessory. The feeling of amusement was quickly engulfed by a greater sensation of burgeoning unease. Guys usually didn't give girls who weren't their girlfriends jewelry. Especially when said guys already had girlfriends, and said girls had their own boyfriends.
But maybe that unspoken rule didn't apply in Meridian. There were a lot of Earth rules that didn't apply when Caleb was involved. After all, a girl usually didn't spend part of her sixteenth birthday alone with a guy who wasn't her boyfriend, when she already had one. But it was different for her, Will told herself. She and Caleb were friends. Had been for years. It was okay.
Friends. Nothing more.
Will slipped the necklace over her head and stared out the nearby window at the glittering lights of downtown as the waiter returned with her water. "Are you ready to order yet, madam?" he prompted dutifully, not even moving for his order pad this time.
She fingered the stone and half-smiled ruefully at him. "Tiramisu, please."
"Very good," the waiter muttered before beating a hasty retreat. Will found herself alone again, fiddling with her necklace and mulling over her extremely jumbled thoughts of a certain former rebel leader, staring at the skyline until her eyes began to water. Meridian was only a Heart's throw away, but it felt like a million miles.
"Happy birthday, Will," she whispered to herself.