She paused, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "What I did... I thought I was doing the right thing. The loss of a child, it... it changes you. Makes you desperate. But that's no excuse. I should have known better."
Sean felt a pang of sympathy, recognizing the self-recrimination in Caroline's voice. He knew all too well the weight of choices made in desperation, the burden of living with the consequences.
Dexter spoke next, his hand reaching out to clasp his wife's. "After much discussion," he said, his eyes meeting each person in the room in turn, "and thanks in large part to our daughter's wisdom, we've decided to merge the Wisteria and Reed covens."
A ripple of surprise went through the room. Sean felt Gabe tense beside him, could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he processed this unexpected development.
"Damian has graciously agreed to take the reins for now," Dexter continued, nodding towards Gabe's father. "At least until Gabe is ready to step into the role we all know he's destined for."
The weight of expectation in those words hung heavy in the air. Sean glanced at Gabe, saw the conflict warring in his eyes. He wanted to reach out, to offer some words of comfort or support. But what could he say? He was an outsider in this world of covens and magical politics.
As the conversation continued, Sean felt exhaustion creeping up on him. The events of the past week, the emotional roller coaster of the morning – it was all catching up to him in a rush. He tried to stifle a yawn, but Gabe, ever attentive, noticed immediately.
"I think that's enough for now," Gabe said, his tone brooking no argument. "Sean needs rest. We can continue this discussion later."
There were murmurs of agreement, concerned glances thrown Sean's way. He wanted to protest, to insist he was fine, but the bone-deep weariness made even that small act of defiance feel impossible.
Gabe helped Sean to his feet, supporting most of his weight as they made their way back to the bedroom. As they reached the door, Sean managed to find his voice.
"Think I could grab a shower?" he asked, grimacing at the feeling of days-old sweat and grime on his skin. "Feel like I've been marinating in my own funk for a week."
Gabe chuckled, the sound warming Sean from the inside out. "Sure thing. Let's get you cleaned up, stinky."
As Gabe helped him into the bathroom, setting out towels and clean clothes, Sean felt a surge of emotion threatening tooverwhelm him. This care, this tenderness – it was more than he deserved. More than he'd ever allowed himself to hope for.
"Hey," Gabe said softly, catching Sean's gaze in the mirror. "You okay?"
Sean nodded, not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat. But Gabe, as always, seemed to understand what he couldn't say.
"I've got you," Gabe murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Sean's temple. "Always."
Sean let out a slow breath as Gabe guided him to the edge of the bed, his legs shaking with each step. His body still felt foreign—like he wasn’t quite connected to it, more a ghost puppeteering his own limbs. The weight of Jessy's gratitude, the intensity of the Wisterias’ decision to merge covens, all of it circled his brain like vultures. There was a part of him that screamed he should be handling this better. He was supposed to be stronger than this.
But hell, his legs felt like they'd been run over by a semi, and his head was still spinning from everything he'd woken up to after the magical fight.
"Here." Gabe's voice was calm, grounding as he stood nearby. Sean watched as he disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, then returned with fresh towels and some clean clothes. The towel was laid on the back of a chair, and the way Gabe moved—efficient, knowing exactly what Sean needed without him having to ask—made that lump in his throat from earlier creep back.
Sean swallowed it down, not wanting to choke on his own emotions. There was no space for weakness. No space for the guilt that festered inside him, gnawing at his ribs, like his insides were made of fucking sawdust.
"Think you can manage a shower without me?" Gabe asked, his tone lighter than the storm that had gathered in the other room.
Sean blinked, catching his reflection in the mirror across the room. His face looked pale, shadows under his eyes, the bruises from the fight still a dull purple near his hairline. He looked like shit. But at least he was still breathing, and that seemed like a small fucking miracle at this point.
"Yeah," Sean rasped, forcing a smirk that he didn’t feel. "I’ll try not to drown."
The half-joke was weak, but it earned a snort from Gabe. "Yeah, let’s not add that to the shit we’re already dealing with."
Gabe turned to leave, but not before squeezing Sean’s shoulder. It was a small touch, brief, but the weight of it lingered, staying with Sean as he dragged himself into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts, which—great. Just what he needed. More time to stew in his own misery.
The hot water from the shower was scalding, but he didn’t turn it down. The sting was good, a reminder he was still alive. The spray hit his back, washing away the sweat and grime from the past days. His muscles screamed in protest at standing for so long, but he grit his teeth and dealt with it. The soap slipped through his fingers, and he cursed under his breath, leaning against the tile for support as the steam swirled around him.
“Fuck,” Sean muttered, pressing his forehead to the cool tile.
The bathroom door creaked open.
"You okay in there?" Gabe's voice cut through the fog in his head.
Sean took a breath, trying to steady the tremble in his voice. "Yeah. Just... thinking."