[Rybinsk] не теряй надежду (Nastya)

Friday, 26th September 2003

Since she had read the threatening letter from her stalker, Aglaya had barely spoken a word, had barely shown any emotion. Her face remained expressionless, emotionless, impassive. Her eyes never seemed to focus on anything or anyone in particular as she stared into empty space. While her immediate response had been that she had hurried out of the room to throw up, she was now just absent, not really reacting to anyone or anything in her surroundings. When she closed her eyes, the letter appeared in front of her inner eye, giving her no chance to look away and get rid of it. She wouldn't have dared to sleep had her mother not given her dreamless sleep potion every night. In fact, since the artistic flyer was barely responsive and for the lack of a proper alternative, Alyona had resorted to instilling her various potions instead of trying to make her eat anything.

Given that Alyona could barely stomach seeing her eldest daughter in this state herself, she had forbidden her younger child to visit her for the time being, thinking that being with Aglaya would disturb her and distract Nastya from her training. Alyona tried her best to keep her emotions in check, spent a lot of time at Aglaya's place, only leaving when she had given her a dose of sleeping potion. While the artistic flyer was in a rather weak physical condition, her mental state was a lot more worrying now.

After having seen her in this state for five days Alyona decided to get help from a healer she had studied with who was specialised in psychology, hoping that he could lessen her daughter's distress in some way. Aglaya barely registered that a stranger came to check on her, she felt like the conversation between her mother and the other healer was taking place somewhere far away and did not concern her. The colleague suggested another medication but, not knowing all details, he assumed that she might snap out of this state soon enough.

Another six days passed and even with the new medication Aglaya was feeling detached, didn't speak but instead of being curled up in bed for most of the time she now spent some time slowly and precariously pacing the room, making Alyona finally lose her nerves after watching this for several days. The healer shouted at her eldest daughter, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her heavily but Aglaya barely even blinked. Nothing but the letter that was seemingly omnipresent felt real to her.

He had planned this, had planned for her to die, had spared her, because he was too obsessed with her to let her go yet. Eventually though he would kill her. He had touched her when she had been unconscious in her hospital bed...

Aglaya was used to being her family's puppet but now she felt that her life depended on whether her stalker wanted her alive or not. She felt powerless, weak, and utterly terrified. The role of the victim seemed to be forced upon her and she couldn’t change it.

She barely took notice of it when her mother shook her, yelled at her, barely registered that Alyona was actually crying now. It was all distant, unreal, unimportant. There were only the stalker and her in her world now.

Alyona pushed Aglaya down to her bed and sank into the armchair next to it, burying her face in her hands. For the first time in days Aglaya looked at her mother but even seeing her in distress did not really evoke any reaction. Alyona was looking back at her now, and, realising that Aglaya was at least gazing in her direction, she tried to talk to her again.

'Aglayka, please, do talk to me! I know you're going through a lot, much more than anyone should ever have to endure, but please, don't give up. You are alive. We are all here for you. We will find the one who did this to you. Is there anything you want? Anything at all that would make you feel better?'

Aglaya stared at some point behind her mother as though she could not really see the older woman. She could not bring herself to say a word but, for the first time in several days, she had actually listened to Alyona's words even if she was not reacting to what she had heard. The letter, the stalker... regardless of what her mother said, they were real, they were all that mattered. She was shivering again now.

'I have to get out', Alyona burst out, her voice trembling. As her mother hurried out of the room, Aglaya watched her, feeling somewhat strange to be left alone like that. It slowly sank in that her tough mother had cried, that she was struggling to keep up the facade.

She had asked if there was anything that would make her feel better.

For the first time in over a week Aglaya actually moved out of the vicious circle of dark thoughts about the letter and her stalker. There was one thing she loved; one thing that had never failed to make her feel good about herself.

Moving like she was in trance, Aglaya slowly changed into a training outfit consisting of black leggings and a grey sweater. She did not really make a conscious decision now, but basically followed her instinct that made her leave her flat for the first time since Nastya had brought her home.

Once she stepped outside into the September evening she immediately disapparated to get to the flying school. It was now past the time of normal training hours throughout the year. Given the strange combination of her trance-like state and the rush of adrenaline because she was going to fly again, Aglaya was entirely unaware of the fact that she had splinched herself and that there was a long cut in her right arm reaching from the middle of her lower arm up to about an inch above her elbow.

She entered the school, barely aware that it was deserted, and went to her locker where she found her broom that she would usually have taken home had she not been taken ill the last time she used it. Aglaya shouldered it and went into the main arena to the music desk, switching on the lights on her way there. She was about to pick the music of her recent free program when she thought that it was not right for her now. While she overestimated her strength or rather didn't really consider the lack thereof, she felt that the contrast between the music and what she was able to do at the moment was extreme. Therefore, Aglaya chose an old free program music instead - piano concerto number 2 by Rachmaninov - which she had used in the unfortunate 2000 season. She had always loved Rachmaninov, and it felt strangely fitting to use that music now.

Seeing that she did not intend to do much of a performance anyway, Aglaya had only done a little stretching before mounting her broom and starting the music. As she stood on her broom, both feet safely on the platforms, she felt a little shaky but at the same time relieved and free. A slight breeze was messing with her hair as she gained speed. It was an exhilarating feeling to ride her broom again and it gave her more confidence. The adrenaline kicked in properly now, making her forget any physical deficiencies, and even though she did not do any challenging elements, she began to move to the music. It was as though the piano music was carrying her and a slight smile spread across her face.

Everything felt right for two, maybe three minutes. She was one with the music and her broom. The stars shone above her, giving the performance a somewhat mystical air. Her moves, that had been tentative at first, were getting slightly stronger and more accentuated now. She was entirely caught up in her ride, still not realising that her arm was bleeding and soaking the sleeve of her sweater by now. It was a perfect moment until she tried to perform a pronounced turn.

She was unable to put enough pressure on her broom, still being quite feeble. As she realised this, it was already too late, and she slipped off her broom. When her body reached the softening line, her fall was slowed down. A split second later she hit the ground. The impact was still enough to cause a few bruises but Aglaya didn't really think about it nor did she feel any pain yet. All that she felt was utter exhaustion and frustration with her own weakness as she lay on the ground. She was panting heavily now and her heart was racing due to the overexertion. The previous numbness seemed to slowly fade away as tears began streaming down her face.

@Nastya Tikhomirova

Since the letter from Aglaya’s crazy stalker, Nastya had never felt so utterly alone before. Other than the brief respite from such a feeling when she got to talk to her younger relative Zhenya, no one talked to her, and she was given a wide berth. No Aglayka, no Papa, even her Mother only really spoke to her once a day and that was just for a quick update and an administration of dreamless sleep potion when needed. The only person she got to talk to was her coach, Andrey. He acted like everything was normal which, naturally, forced her to as well. But, nothing was normal.

Training had gone on as usual. Anastasiya found that there was no longer any joy in it, but she kept motivated to distract herself. She found that she was very grateful for it or she would drive herself insane otherwise. Nastya had found comfort in going back to practicing how she knew best, how she had had so much success in her junior days; drilling every element. Every single one she knew.

From 6:30am, when Nastya had begun training that morning, she had spent an entire hour just doing spin after spin. When she started to get bored of it, the artistic flyer took a fifteen minutes break, before beginning her lesson with Andrey, and together they ran through her technical exercise and fixed minor issues here and there. In the lesson, Nastya had been bothered by the fact that she had stumbled on a split jump which, being her best element, was extremely unusual for her. So, the younger Tikhormirova sister decided to spend two hours just doing split jumps. By the time she stopped, the sweat was dripping from her. After a light lunch, she went back into the arena for a group lesson working on flexibility, and Nastya repeated the scorpion into needle sequence, over and over and over. Taking another quick break, Nastya downed a cup of coffee hoping that the little caffeine boost would help her keep going. Working on her own again, she ran through her technical exercise again, four times in a row, unceremoniously sitting down on the platform of her broom at the end. She was quickly becoming exhausted. Nastya wasn’t done though. She ran through the patterns without any extraneous tricks, making sure the speed and flow were correct, covering the full arena. The lighter exercise helped her regain some energy, as the sun started going down. This allowed her to start working on handstands, and even handstands with an upside down split position for an hour. Until suddenly it was dark, and Andrey called out to her. “Enough, Nastya.”

Muscles aching, sweat dripping from her face, Nastya begrudgingly obeyed and placed her broom in her locker, heading straight into the changing room showers to wash all the grime off of herself. Nastya, however, walked in fully clothed, and just sat there under the water for a few moments, not doing anything, not thinking or feeling anything. Totally numb. Eventually she stood up and managed to wash more properly. As she stepped out, Nastya used a drying spell, though her hair remained a little damp. Her spell work was not amazing to begin with at the best of times, but it was virtually impossible to be successful when she was tired and unfocused. Leaving the changing room, Anastasiya passed a mirror, and felt oddly disgusted with her reflection and had an urge to just smash it.

Luckily, she kept walking and went down to the practice room with all the beams in it. She passed the last few stragglers leaving the school, but no one spoke to her. It didn’t bother her anymore. The school was quickly becoming deserted, but Nastya kept going on with training anyway. Jumping up onto the beam, the former champion began working on backward walkovers. She was determined to have a strong foundation for when she would inevitably give up and allow herself to be controlled like a puppet again. Nastya had no idea how long she had been going until her arm buckled and her head impacted with the beam. She sat down on the beam, not even dazed by the bump.

Sliding off the beam, Nastya slowly plodded her way to the changing room, where her bag still was, pulled out a small vial of Wiggenweld potion and downed it. She had been secretly making small batches of Wiggenweld potion for herself as soon as she had graduated, with Alchemy being her only decent subject. Small injuries, she had found through her school years, were impossible to gain attention from and were just an annoying hindrance. It became much easier to just hide them from people and heal herself quickly herself before anyone noticed. Plus, it gave her the reputation that she was strong and sturdy and she wasn’t going to jeopardise that if she could help it. After a few seconds, Nastya felt the bump on her head start to go down and she felt better. However, it was most certainly time to go home though.

Shouldering her bag, Nastya headed for the school entrance, deciding to go through the main practice arena as it was easier than walking the whole way round. She was pretty sure that she had asked her mother to come and give her a dose of dreamless sleep potion, and would likely be at her home soon, judging by the stars in the night sky. As she stepped out into the corridor leading to the arena, she could hear music. Not just any music, but that piece. That awful piece. Her heart quickened in response, her mouth grew dry. Her bag bouncing against her hip, the artistic flyer ran out into the main arena, determined to find out who was there and make them stop playing that dreaded music.

Rounding the corner and stepping onto the pitch, Nastya stopped dead in her tracks at the view she saw. Her elder sister lying on the ground, next to her broom, not moving as far as she could see. It felt as if she was re-living the World Championships in 2000 all over again. Immediately, Nastya gagged and felt dizzy as the scene merged in her mind  into that awful competition, and it only faded back to the real and the present as she ran over. Skidding on her knees as she stopped by Aglaya, the music still played, booming in her ears, combined with her heartbeat in her head. “Make it stop!” Nastya muttered, mainly to herself. Her face stony, she pulled out her wand from her jacket, and pointed it straight at the music desk. “Silencio!” Anastasiya yelled, taking a deep breath as everything fell silent, the beating of her heart in her head was the only noise she could hear now.

It was only at this point that the younger sister dared to look down at her elder. Aglaya didn’t look great, she was crying, but she was awake and she was alive and that was the most important thing. The relief that Nastya expected to feel didn’t surface though, and all she felt was… anger. For one, Nastya wanted to know what her sister was doing there, on a broom no less, in the middle of the night. Alyona was certain to not know, and this realisation made Nastya breathe out rather forcefully through her nose as she ran a hand through her (still slightly damp) hair. Who was going to get in trouble with Mother again because of Aglaya’s ridiculous decisions? Nastya, that’s who. The younger thought to herself.  Her sister was so… so… stupid and reckless and pig-headed. Clearly, the World champion didn’t think about how all this crazy mess was affecting her, Aglaya just thought about herself.

“What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing here?” Nastya suddenly shrieked, her voice unapologetically shrill. The tender, loving Nastya that her sister had seen for the last few weeks was gone, and the Nastya that Aglaya would know (and probably not) love was back in full force. “Were you sent by the World to destroy me, because it is working!” Nastya shouted as she buried her face in her hands. “Ugh!” Her grunt of  frustration was muted slightly before she removed her hands again.

“Look at you! What made you think you could get away with waltzing on your broom like nothing happened? Mother is right, you are so irresponsible!” She screeched, noticing Aglaya's grey jumper had an interesting design with one red arm. Oh, wait. Aglayka was bleeding, that made more sense. Nastya reasoned that Aglaya must have apparated to the school and splinched herself in the process. “Oh, you’re bleeding.” Nastya stated flatly. “That’s just fantastic.” She added sarcastically as she threw her arms up dramatically in the air. “And... you’re not gonna want me to get Mother, so I guess that Nastya with no medical training is just gonna have to fix it and lie to her mother again, who’ll inevitably find out because she’s way smarter than dumb ol’ Nastya and guess who’s going to get yelled at again?! Me.” Nastya ranted, not really knowing why she suddenly was referring to herself in the third person.

She pulled her bag nearer to her, knowing she still had some vials left in the bag, but she didn’t really want to share this with her sister just yet, as her chest rose and fell quickly from her angry tirade.

As Nastya approached her, Aglaya fought against her tears. She didn't want her sister to see her crying but, no matter how hard she tried, the tears did not subside right away. She sniffed, blinked, avoided looking at her sister but then Nastya yelled at her. Aglaya wasn't sure why she was surprised. This was far more usual than the kind treatment that she had experienced ever since her poisoning. She was torn between feeling relieved that her little sister was not treating her considerately and being entirely shocked that she was being attacked like that.

“What are you doing here at this time anyway?” she weakly snapped back at her sister, thinking that attack was the best form of defence. “I have as much of a right to be here as you do.” It felt as though Nastya was only nice to her as long as she was sick and helpless and not anywhere near her broom. Probably her sister subconsciously enjoyed seeing her in a pity state as that meant that she was not challenging her, that she wasn't her rival any longer. The reigning artistic flying champion felt certain that her sister had enjoyed being the school's number one during her absence and now felt her position endangered by her appearance.

“What?” Aglaya asked when her sister said that she was bleeding. Only as Nastya said so she became aware of the fact that her sleeve was red and wet now. “Oh,” she muttered, slowly sitting up. The world seemed to be spinning fast now but Aglaya was quite used to feeling dizzy. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and moved her left hand to try and cover the blood stain on her right arm which was futile because of its large size.

“It's nothing,” she muttered anyway, feeling confused and slightly embarrassed. She tried to trace where the injury was. “It's just a scra- ouch.” Tears were watering her eyes again as she found the cut. It was quite painful to touch it. Whatever was wrong with her arm it was not exactly nothing and she knew that now. She could feel the deep cut through the fabric but given her sister's reaction she was unwilling to let her take a look. She didn't want to beg for her help and she didn't need it either. For a moment she stared at her left palm that was sticky with blood and it felt strangely satisfying to know that this was nothing her stalker had planned for her.

“Mother needed some time on her own,” she mumbled, remembering Alyona's exit and feeling rather guilty. “We shouldn't bother her with anything as insignificant as this.” Although she tried to sound convincing she didn't quite succeed and she knew it. In fact, Aglaya was close to bursting into tears again now but she didn't want to allow herself any more moments of weakness especially now with Nastya around.

She wasn't panting any longer and her pulse was not racing quite so much now. Aglaya took a deep breath, determined to get to her feet and move away from her sister who quite obviously didn't want to see her anyway. As she stood up, her legs felt like jelly and she was swaying a little. However, Aglaya still felt that she could walk out of the arena. Through a veil of dancing pixels she looked for her broom which lay just a few steps away on the ground. She would not leave it behind. As she reached it, she bent down to pick it up but her sight faded out again. Unable to pretend that everything was right, Aglaya sank down, feeling exhausted and welling up again. It just wasn't fair that her body did not obey her.

Nastya laughed as Aglayka deflected her own question back at her, as if this would somehow distract her from the fact that her elder sister was absolutely not supposed to be there. Aglaya certainly did not have the right to be there. At least Nastya, who had to admit that she also shouldn’t be there (anymore) was trying to leave. “Well, funnily enough, I was just leaving.” Nastya replied deadpanly, not really feeling up to dealing with her elder sister’s nonsense. “And you certainly should not be here, you should be at home, in bed, resting…” Nastya snapped, “Probably.” She added, her voice losing it’s steely edge and becoming rather sheepish instead. She hadn’t seen her sister for more than a few days, and had absolutely no clue as to how she was progressing with her recovery. Her mother hadn’t told her anything really, so Nastya had to make the assumption based on what she had last seen… and that wasn’t particularly promising.

The fact that Aglayka clearly hadn’t even been aware of the fact that she was bleeding seemed to confirm this assumption and Nastya tutted loudly, shaking her head at her sister as she sat up and tried to cover the stain. It was futile, the stain was growing bigger by the minute. “Merlin…” Nastya muttered to herself, rolling her eyes.

“Sure, it’s nothing. Totally believe you. Not as if there is blood everywhere.” Nastya snarked, feeling bad for continuingly dishing out sarcastic comments that were most likely not wanted or appreciated, but she just couldn’t help it. Aglayka had been through so much, Anastasiya knew this, but she just couldn't stop. She felt so defensive about everything.

Aglayka said Alyona needed some time on her own, and Nastya’s brow furrowed as she wondered what her sister meant by this. At least it was a confirmation that their mother had seen Aglayka that day but that didn’t really help Nastya in that moment. Especially, when her sister continued to say daft things like they shouldn't bother her with Aglaya’s arm bleeding the equivalent of Kivach Falls. “You’re kidding, right?” Nastya scoffed, shaking her head again. “This isn’t insignificant at all. You’re being ridiculous. Besides, I have a feeling she’ll show whether we want her to or not.” Nastya added, pulling a face as she realised her mother would no doubt be wondering where on Earth she was rather soon.

Nastya sighed, staring up at the sky as if to ask the Universe why the situation was happening to her as Aglayka decided to stand up and move away… to her broom. The younger of the two sisters didn’t even move, continuing to sit on her heels as she had a feeling that Aglaya wouldn’t get too far. It wasn’t a long wait before her elder sister sank back down to the ground, and Nastya felt like now was probably the right time to actually help her sister. If Aglaya cried, she wouldn’t be able to not cry herself and that would never do.

“Oh, you are really testing me today…” Nastya muttered as she didn’t even bother to stand up and just shunted herself forward on her knees to the few steps away that Aglaya had made, dragging her bag with her. “Please don’t cry,” Nastya murmured, her facial features adopting a more sympathetic look, as she reached out a slightly shaky hand to gently rub her sister’s shoulder.

“Everything is gonna be fine.” Nastya soothed, feeling like she was trying to convince herself of this more than Aglayka. “Look… I…” She began, before trailing off. She huffed in frustration, not knowing if this was really a good idea. Anastasiya was convinced something was going to go wrong and she was somehow going to make things a million times worse. Every time she tried to do something nice for her sister, somehow, she always made things completely worse.

To hell with it! At least it was the thought that counted, right? Nastya told herself. Silently, she opened her bag and rummaged around for the pouch of vials that was now buried under some of her things. “I might be able to help. Just… don’t tell Mother, okay?” Nastya pleaded, hoping Aglaya would be kind enough to know that this was a secret she didn’t want anyone finding out. If her mother had known that she was secretly administering her own potions to herself for every little injury she had… well, Nastya didn’t even know how Alyona would react, but she assumed it would involve a lot of yelling.

“Aha!” Nastya beamed, grabbing hold of one of the vials and pulling it out. “Wiggenweld potion,” Anastasiya explained to Aglayka with a smile. “I’ve been brewing these since I graduated. They’re very helpful for minor injuries… I don’t know how much this’ll help but it is better than nothing, I guess?” Nastya’s voice rose an octave, feeling unsure of herself and more and more convinced this was a terrible idea. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything else… This is the only one I know how to successfully make.” Nastya’s voice grew small as her cheeks flushed and she grabbed her other arm, feeling inferior to her sister and rather embarrassed. “Here,” Nastya gingerly offered the vial out to her sister, hoping after all of that, that Aglayka would actually take it.

It had been odd and unusual how kind Nastya had been from the poisoning until they had read the letter from her stalker. Now, however, she seemed to have no love left for her anymore. Aglaya tried not to show how hurt she felt by her sister's cool and sarcastic remarks. She didn't have any expectations of how her younger sibling would react to her because she had not consciously made her way to the flying school and hadn't even wasted a second to think about running into her anyway. Nonetheless it did feel quite discouraging to listen to Nastya's words.

So she was supposed to stay in bed? For how long? For the rest of her life? She vaguely wondered if her mother would also react to her in such an unfeeling way after how they had parted earlier. Was she supposed to stay out of everyone's way so they could live their lives and pretend that she was okay when she really wasn't?

Nastya rolled her eyes at her and Aglaya swallowed. She wanted to be strong, at least try to move on but apparently her sister wanted to see her as a weak victim rather than as a fighter. Nastya was lashing out more now. The elder sister stared at her younger sibling, wishing for her to stop. Where was the sweet and caring Nastya that she had only recently got to know? Was this all over and forgotten? Of course Aglaya could not deny that her arm was bleeding quite a bit but was that really a reason for such a drama? The poisoning had been worse, for sure. The letter had done more harm as well. In Aglaya's current world this was insignificant. It was self-inflicted anyway and that was better than being the victim of some psycho.

So now she was being ridiculous? Aglaya nodded her head as the desire to get away from her sister got more and more pronounced. She wanted to say something but no response she could think of was strong enough. She felt helpless and weak. Her body disobeyed her and apparently she wasn't even able to stand her ground in a verbal fight either.

"I don't think she'll show," Aglaya said, appalled by how timid and small her voice sounded now. "Mother wasn't feeling well when she left my place," she added, thinking that Alyona would probably yell at her if she ever found out that she had told her sister this much. However, had Alyona been in a decent state she wouldn't have left Aglaya alone, not without administering a dreamless sleep potion anyway. Vaguely Aglaya remembered that her mother had been around every waking moment ever since Nastya had called for her that awful day when she had seen the letter.

She had once again failed to consider her lack of strength and felt terribly pathetic as she sunk down next to her broom unable to put her plan of leaving the arena into action. Tears were running down her face but, so far, she was at least able to stop herself from sobbing loudly. Was this her life now? For how much longer was she going to be trapped in a weak body, feeling like a helpless victim?

Nastya's voice sounded softer now but that did not help to soothe Aglaya at all. The elder Tikhomirova didn't feel like facing her sister who surely felt significantly superior to her now. Aglaya flinched as Nastya rubbed her shoulder, realising that it, too, hurt. Slowly the realisation dawned on her that she must have fallen onto it and bruised it. It didn't matter though. Her body was useless, she was useless. A deficiency more or less hardly made a difference. Her arm was by now throbbing with pain and Aglaya felt colder by the minute. Even if she still felt quite indifferent, the athlete knew that she'd have to do something about it anyway.

Her sister already rummaged in her bag to find a vial but Aglaya did not connect Nastya's action to her own misery and to her sister attempting to help her. Then the younger woman began to speak again, mentioning that she shouldn't tell their mother. Aglaya couldn't follow. What wasn't their mother to know? Had her sister confided in her at some point before the day of the poisoning, Aglaya probably would have gladly used this information to get Nastya in trouble with their mother and thus annoy her. As it was, she just felt entirely numb and indifferent when she heard about her sister's secret.

Nastya had found what she had been looking for and looked at her with a smile now. The whole situation felt unreal and quite confusing. Aglaya clearly had no idea what to make of it. She stared at Nastya, then looked at the vial in her sister's hand. Was it what she said it was? Was it maybe something else? She did not suspect her sister to have poisoned her and yet... Nastya had been so nasty earlier. Did she have her best interest in mind? The elder sibling wasn't sure. However, as she thought about it, she realised that it didn't matter. In fact, she almost hoped that it was a poison that would finally end her misery.

She did not take the vial, not yet anyway. "I'll get out of the sweater first," she mumbled and gasped as she pulled on the sweater. It stuck to the wound and she bit her lips tightly as she tore it off. An "Ouch," escaped her, although she tried hard not to show Nastya how much it hurt, and more tears were running down her cheeks now. Her pale face was white as a sheet as she dropped the blood stained sweater on the ground. She now sat there in a spaghetti top, revealing a big bruise on her shoulder. Hesitantly she took a look at the still bleeding wound. The cut was deep. Aglaya thought that she could even see the bone of her elbow and she swallowed hard, feeling slightly sick. She glanced at Nastya now, feeling terribly ashamed of herself and worrying that her sister would yell at her for having been so irresponsible to apparate. It had been stupid, of course, but somehow this whole thoughtless action had at least served to bring her out of her trance-like state and that was surely a good development.

Aglaya stared at her blankly as Nastya chewed her sister out for being such an idiot, not replying to her at all, which bothered the younger of the sisters greatly. The elder even nodded at her, as if she was agreeing with her sarcastic comments and Nastya couldn’t help but make a confused face in response, surprised that she was somehow getting away with saying such rude things to her sister directly with zero retaliation. On any other occasion, if the two sisters were engaged in a verbal battle of wits, then Nastya (just like in competition) would often lose against Aglayka. Not that day though, apparently. Ordinarily, the power-hungry Nastya would have been pleased, and felt quite superior to best her biggest rival. Not now though. It was making her more and more worried about her elder sister, and she had to fight against herself to not lash out even more, knowing Aglayka was not appreciating the snide remarks at all.

Anastasiya looked down at Aglaya as she weakly replied that she didn’t think their mother would show and immediately her brows furrowed as she wondered what her sister meant by that. Once Aglayka continued and said that Alyona wasn’t feeling well, Nastya gasped a little. “Oh, she is ill?” Nastya clarified flatly, not particularly concerned or caring about such a thing. Their mother would surely be fine. “Well, that’s alright.” Nastya added with an understanding nod, almost rather happy with the news that she wouldn’t have to face being confronted or yelled at by Alyona. After all, if she had already left Aglaya, then she probably wouldn’t be coming back for her. It was at this point that Nastya bit her lip in thought, wondering if she could maybe get away with an extended stay at Aglaya’s, once they both got to her sister’s home. Though, Nastya felt that she probably wasn’t very popular with the elder sister right that second.

It hurt Nastya that Aglayka flinched away from her touch, and she retracted her hand from her sister’s shoulder instantly with a frown. Her mind instantly went to the worst case scenario for her, that such a negative reaction to her physical contact meant Aglaya didn’t trust her anymore or just didn’t like her. She worried that perhaps her sister stepping back onto her broom had somehow reminded Aglaya that they were the biggest rivals to each other and nothing more. The hand Nastya retracted sneaked up to her chest as she lay a hand on her own heart, feeling like it was going to break. Seeing her elder sibling’s tears really wasn’t helping her keep it together either.

Her sister said nothing as she asked her to not tell her Alyona and Nastya didn’t know what to make of it. Was Aglaya silently acknowledging it or was she going to tell mother at the first chance she got? Nastya frowned but said nothing more on the matter. If Alyona did come in and yell at her the next morning (if her mother was well enough to) then she’d know that Aglayka could not be trusted, and that she’d have to start hiding her injuries better or admit to them if her mother didn’t approve of her little initiative.

The silence that passed as Nastya held out the vial and Aglayka just looked at her and then did not take it made Nastya feel even more vulnerable and ashamed. She felt like she was going to have to never make another mistake ever again to regain her sister’s trust. It really hurt. All she wanted to do was to just get up and call her mother there, whether or not she was ill, and run away and not have to see her sister ever again if this was how every interaction was going to be. Her chin wobbled, but she took a deep breath, knowing that her own tears were not going to be helping anyone in the situation, and certainly not what her mother would do.

Aglaya went to remove the clothing covering the wound, and Nastya found herself forced to bite down hard on her cheek to not cry in empathy as she could see how much pain her sister was in. Aglayka had to have been in a lot of pain to cry, her sister never cried. Two crying messes wouldn’t help though, and Nastya was resolved to stay strong, she had to be non-nonsense, had to be like Alyona. Still, Anastasiya held the vial of wiggenweld potion outstretched in her hand, not daring to retract the hand. The first thing that the younger artistic flyer saw when her elder sister removed the sweater was a big bruise on Aglaya’s shoulder, the same shoulder that she had earlier rubbed in an attempt to comfort her. “Oh, I am so sorry!” Nastya immediately cried out, “Your shoulder… I promise I didn’t know, I wouldn’t have touched it otherwise, I am so sorry!” Nastya rattled off the apology, her free hand cupping her cheek in shock. She felt so guilty now. No wonder Aglayka didn’t trust her at all.

Looking down at her sister’s gash on her arm, Nastya wanted to gag, internally horrified and feeling more than a little sick at how deep it was. Outwardly though, her face made little reaction at all. Just as emotionless as her mother, she was doing great. “Oh, you’re so stupid.” Nastya muttered under her breath, feeling like yelling would no longer accomplish anything. The youngest Tikhomirova had no clue what to do, and was desperately trying to think of all the unwilling lectures that she’d sat through with Alyona, trying to think of all the things her mother had done with her own injuries. Of course, what Nastya really wanted to do was just shove the contents of the vial down her sister’s throat, but that wasn’t going to help her win her trust. Hesitantly, Nastya represented the vial again. “Please,” she begged, “take the vial. We need to stop the bleeding and the only other thing I can do is put pressure on it and that’s gonna hurt like crazy.” She frowned, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. “I promise it is just subpar wiggenweld potion.” Nastya sighed softly, praying that Aglayka wouldn’t make this more difficult than it needed to be.

Briefly, the former champion glanced at the sweater nearby, and made a mental note to use a cleaning charm (or several) on it later when this was all dealt with. “I can’t do anything else until I see how good my potion-brewing skills were this week,” Anastasiya self-deprecatingly smiled, “so hurry up, because you’re losing a lot of blood and I can’t help with that…” Unless... Unless, Nastya took pretending to be their mother one step further and they went down to Alyona’s room where she treated the patients. Perhaps there could be something else there could help. She bit her cheek again, keeping quiet about that idea until Aglaya did something that would prevent her from shoving the contents of the vial down her sister’s throat.

Was Alyona ill? Well, not exactly. However, Aglaya felt too exhausted and embarrassed to explain what had really happened. How could she tell her sister that their mother had had a breakdown, because she hadn't been able to get out of the vicious circle of dark thoughts for over a week? She hadn't spoken a single word since the day that she had last seen Nastya and given her younger siblings reaction to her Alyona hadn't told her in which state she had been for the past eleven days. She could not say what was wrong with their mother without talking and thus thinking about her own condition.

“I'm not sure if she's ill exactly,” Aglaya muttered, “but she was feeling unwell.” She looked at Nastya, confusion clearly visible in her expression, as her sister said that that was alright. She was not sure about that. In fact, the elder sister felt more and more guilty that she hadn't been able to get a grip sooner and for what her family had to put up with. It was all her fault. She was the one with the problem and yet it affected all of them. It wasn't right that her family was suffering because she had attracted a psychotic fan. They should be able to live their lives regardless of what she was going through. Maybe it would really be better if she was stuck at home by herself or if she was gone altogether…

Aglaya was unaware of how Nastya reacted to her flinching as a result of her touch, but even if she she had noticed her sister's reaction she wouldn't have been able to get a sensible response out. She felt like she had just been woken from a long and deep sleep and was still rather disoriented and trying to make sense of everything.

“Hm?” Aglaya asked as she heard the first bit of Nastya's apology, not yet looking at her because she was strangely fascinated with the bleeding wound. However, as Nastya went on, she turned to face her. “Don't be sorry,” she mumbled, taking a deep calming breath. She still couldn't stop crying but she wanted to. She wanted to be strong again, be herself again.

If Nastya wanted to apologise for anything, Aglaya would have preferred if she had done so for calling her stupid. Irresponsible, reckless – okay, she was used to being called that, but she did not appreciate it when anyone called her stupid.

“Do you really think it'll help?” Aglaya asked weakly while already reaching for the vial with her left hand. She bit her lips when she uncorked it as she needed her right hand for that and moving the injured arm was getting more and more painful. She hesitated briefly, looking at the vial in her hand before lifting it to her lips and drinking it. Aglaya just hoped that Nastya would not comment on it in a way that made her regret having taken the potion.

After just a few seconds Aglaya felt that the bruise on her shoulder got better and her arm was at least bleeding less. It looked like the cut had lost some of its length and depth as well. However, it still didn't look very well and it clearly did not feel much better yet. The artistic flying champion was getting more and more frustrated with herself and a sob escaped her. She quickly glanced at Nastya, hoping that her sister did not notice that she was in such a pitiful state. It just wasn't like her to cry, to be weak. She wanted to get to her feet and just find a place to hide but she felt dizzy and unable to move. In fact, she was tempted to just lay down on the spot but she fought this feeling, unwilling to appear any more vulnerable than she already did.

Instead she looked at her arm, hoping that the potion would heal it some more. However, there was only little progress to be seen. “How long does it usually take until the potion works?” she asked quietly, hoping that Nastya would say that, after an initial response to the potion, injuries would still get better but she had a feeling that she wouldn't hear that. Aglaya had never used the Wiggenweld potion herself, either she had clenched her teeth and ignored minor injuries or, if they were slightly worse, she had shown them to their mother who had been able to fix almost everything quickly.

“Thank you, Nastenka,” she said belatedly, opting for a smile that turned more into a scary grimace as another sob escaped her. She looked down, her gaze resting on the broom that lay next to her. Aglaya sighed and shook her head. “It had felt right for a moment,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Nastya’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, as her lips shifted to the side in confusion. She felt like Aglaya was talking in riddles. How could her mother be unwell but not ill? That made almost no sense. Her eyes narrowed slightly at her sister, feeling suspicious that Aglayka was not telling her something important. However, Nastya knew that this wasn’t the time or place to question her elder sister or press further. After all, Aglayka was bleeding and that was clearly the priority, as was making sure Aglaya got home okay. “Alright…” Nastya muttered to herself, unable to not comment on the weirdness of the situation.

She smiled to herself a little, as Aglayka kindly told her to not be sorry about rubbing her sister’s bruised shoulder. Though it could have been just empty words, Anastasiya felt much better about it anyway, though still a little twinge of guilt remained. She merely nodded in response, still trying to keep her own emotions in check when Aglaya continued to cry. Nastya naturally wanted to hug her so badly and tell her that everything would be okay, but she couldn’t, not at a time like this. Perhaps, she told herself, she would attempt a hug once her sister’s arm wasn’t profusely bleeding.

“Only one way to find out,” Nastya admitted, when Aglaya asked if her potion would work, smiling proudly as Aglaya reached for the vial. She tried not to let it show how worried she was that her potion would be terrible, as Nastya’d only used it on minor injuries but this was super serious. Part of her was concerned that the potion would do nothing at all, or just heal the shoulder and do nothing else. If that happened, Nastya felt that she would want the ground to swallow her alive. The younger of the two sisters sat there in silence with bated breath to see if it did anything, praying her potion-making skills were not as inferior as the rest of her.

Anastasiya smiled to herself in relief as she noticed the bruise on her sister’s shoulder go down a little. As she looked down at the cut however, her smile quickly faded. It hadn’t made much progress, though the worst of it was taken care of. A sudden sob startled her, and her eyes flicked to her sister’s face to check she was okay. Nastya hugged her own arm, feeling embarrassed and ashamed at how stupid she was that she couldn’t even brew a full-strength wiggenweld potion, or indeed make any other more useful potion. She bit down on her lip, determined to not cry, for she had to be strong for Aglayka who clearly couldn’t be at that moment. As long as she still had a purpose there, Nastya knew she couldn’t break down, even if she wasn’t doing very well and wished that someone else was there instead. In fact, Nastya wished her mother was there to push her out of the way, like Alyona always did, feeling that her mother was now correct and that her place was on the sidelines. Nastya always wanted to help, but apparently she just couldn’t, and was always just in the way.

Staring at Aglayka’s arm, the younger sister tried to will the potion to do more, but it was slowing down with its progress and Nastya couldn’t help herself. She snatched the empty vial and chucked it to the ground with a snarl. “Damn it!” Nastya gritted her teeth, wondering why she couldn’t be useful for once in her life. “I’m sorry,” Nastya muttered sincerely, not making eye contact as her cheeks turned bright red. “I thought it would have done more by now... maybe I made a mistake this time. I’m so sorry.” She tried to make herself as small as possible, thinking that Aglayka must think her really stupid and dumb to not be able to brew such a simple potion. “I’ve only used it in minor injuries before, never something like… like…” this. Nastya wanted to say, but just gestured instead to her sister’s cut rather sheepishly instead.

Her mouth fell open as Aglaya thanked her. It was weird to hear any gratitude coming from her, especially when she felt she didn’t deserve any thanks at all. It was awkward. “What for?” Nastya accidentally blurted out. “I haven’t done anything really…” Anastasiya added, clinging onto her forearm, avoiding eye contact with her sister. Though, her eyes soon darted back as she heard another sob. She followed Aglayka’s gaze to the broom, straining to hear her elder sister’s whisper. A flash of confusion passed across her face despite the fact that she was looking directly at what Aglayka was talking about. As her sister’s voice cracked, Nastya shuffled closer to her elder sibling, hesitating for a few seconds. She realised what Aglayka was talking about and she clearly empathised. Nastya didn’t think she’d enjoy being unable to fly for such a lengthy period either. She reached out her arms, retracting for a second as she double-guessed herself.

“Sorry,” she whispered as she gently pulled her sister in a hug, wrapping her arms around Aglaya’s shoulders. She hoped it would somehow provide comfort. “I really am. So sorry. You must miss it, I know I would.” Nastya murmured softly, slowly rubbing her sister’s upper back.  “I hope… maybe we could even train together soon but… not yet. I know it must be difficult to be so patient, but…” she trailed off, not knowing how to end the sentence, and wondering why she had said it in the first place. If twenty-two years on the planet had taught Nastya anything, it was that a practice session with Aglaya would be hell. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as she pulled away from the hug and hastily Nastya wiped it from her cheek, not wanting her sister to see her cry. Alyona wouldn’t cry, after all, she had to continue to be strong.

Speaking of their mother, Nastya couldn’t leave Aglaya’s arm like that. It still looked pretty bad and Alyona would definitely freak if she saw it. Anastasiya had to do more to fix it. “I don’t have any other potions, and I’ve never tried using two wiggenweld potions before, I don’t want to try that in case…” Nastya stopped dead in her tracks before she said what she was thinking; in case I poison you. Her throat suddenly felt dry, her eyes widened slightly, feeling a wave of nausea as the memory bubbled up in her mind.   â€œI don’t want to use you as a test subject for my bandaging charm ability either…” She added with a shaky voice. Nastya knew the incantation and wand movement but had never been successful before, and she was worried that if she tried that, like everything else she did, she’d make things worse.

Anastasiya pushed herself up from the ground and turned to address Aglaya. “Do you feel able to come with me to Mother’s treatment room? I thought maybe something there could help?” She asked, as she held out her hand to pull Aglaya up if she wanted it.

Aglaya felt unable to respond to Nastya's reaction to the potion being not as successful as they both had hoped for. A part of her wanted to tell her not to worry, mostly because she wanted her to stop talking about it, but in the end she felt unable to articulate herself in any way as tears were still streaming down her face and it required all her concentration and energy to try and suppress more sobs.

When Nastya pulled her in a hug, Aglaya felt tense at first. She did not usually like hugs. Physical contact made her feel uncomfortable and she really didn't want anyone to see her in this state and react to it in such a compassionate way. However, as her sister gently rubbed her upper back, Aglaya didn't feel able to hold anything back anymore.

She sobbed loudly and, quite uncharacteristically, leaned further into the hug. She didn't have the strength to try and regain control at this moment and somehow it didn't matter any longer either. The sobs made her upper body tremble and she was almost glad that her sister could not see her face now that she leaned her head against her shoulder. Aglaya could barely breathe now and while she heard her sister's soft murmur, she did not even try to listen to what she said. It did not matter anyway. This was such a surreal situation and actually the first time that Aglaya cried like that in front of another person.

Only as Nastya pulled away from the hug, Aglaya made another attempt to compose herself. Still sniffing loudly, she gasped for breath and lifted her left hand to try and wipe off the tears from her face. She couldn't look at her sister now and maybe never again. The artistic flying champion felt embarrassed and disgustingly weak now.

Nastya spoke of the Wiggenweld potion again and that she had no other potions and wasn't sure she could perform a proper bandaging charm. The fact that her sister was trying so hard to help her and kept a level head somehow calmed Aglaya a little.

She felt that if she had splinched any other part of her body she would have been able to perform a successful bandaging charm on herself. While she'd have said this aloud in any other situation she now didn't want to upset Nastya. What her sister was trying to do was already a lot more than Aglaya would ever dared to ask for anyway. She was incredibly grateful to her no matter if the younger sibling was actually achieving a lot with her attempts or not. She at least did not lash out any longer. The sarcastic remarks from earlier were almost forgotten as they had been replaced by comforting words.

Nastya's suggestion to go to Alyona's treatment room seemed like a good idea and Aglaya wanted to be able to walk there. She nodded, still avoiding her sister's gaze. “Yes, that's a good idea,” she muttered and picked up the sweater again. She did not think about whether it was clean or not. Her only worry was that she'd leave a trace of blood on her way to the treatment room and she wanted to prevent that. She quickly wrapped the sweater around her injured arm before taking Nastya's hand to get to her feet again.

Aglaya felt shaky and somehow she couldn't believe that she had been on her broom only moments ago and hadn't felt quite so bad there. Adrenaline really was a funny thing. She could not imagine standing on her broom, she felt certain she'd lose balance at once now. Walking on firm ground seemed to be enough of a challenge.

“Would you please take my broom?” she asked meekly, thinking that she would not get back to the arena again and could hardly leave her precious broom behind. She now stood there, her left hand supporting her right arm that was wrapped into the blood stained sweater. She glanced into the direction of the treatment room that usually felt so close but now seemed like a long walk away. She sighed and then nodded to herself. “Right, let's go there.”

She tried to walk at a speed that was more or less normal but as they reached the treatment room she was slightly out of breath and feeling dizzy. Usually when she was in this room, no matter what kind of injury she had, Aglaya refused to sit or even lay down on the bed. She much preferred sitting down on a chair. Now, however, the artistic flying champion stumbled to the bed and sank down on it. Tears were watering her eyes again and she fastened the grip on her aching arm.

“Maybe Mother has some essence of dittany somewhere,” she said weakly. “I know dittany is also in the Wiggenweld potion but maybe if we applied it...” her voice trailed off. Aglaya was freezing by now but she was afraid of taking a blanket as she thought she'd bleed on it. She sat up again to look around. Their mother had an office adjoined to the treatment room but that was bound to be locked so nobody could get in there without her. However, some potions and dressing material were stored in the treatment room as well.

“If you do not feel like using the bandaging charm we should probably bandage my arm manually,” she added, trying to sound casual. Truth be told, she was getting quite worried by now as the wound was still bleeding and her sweater felt quite damp now.

Nastya was patient as she let her sister lean further into the hug as she continued to cry whilst keeping her arms wrapped around like Aglayka like a cocoon. It was difficult to not panic and get her elder sister to stop it, as it was so rare that she had ever seen Aglaya cry (in fact, Nastya wasn’t sure she had ever seen her sister cry) that it was extraordinarily concerning and awkward. Anastasiya wondered if, perhaps, this was the feeling that her distant cousin, Zhenya, had when she broke down to her in Sweden not more than a few days prior.

She watched Aglaya carefully as she tried to console herself, and it took all the restraint that Nastya had to not reach out and wipe her sister’s tears away for her. However, Nastya remained still as she noticed how her elder sister was avoiding her gaze now. It was likely that Aglaya was embarrassed by such a display, and Nastya understood these feelings well, and so she decided not to say anything or draw attention to it. The best thing she could do was remain as calm and collected as possible.

Nastya smiled down at her sister, pleased that she had actually contributed a decent suggestion for once. She observed Aglayka grab the sweater and wrap it around her injury which Nastya sharply nodded in approval at. She was rather disappointed she hadn’t thought of such a thing herself, but apparently she only had room for one good idea at a time. Anastasiya tried to sneakily hold her arms out in such a way that if Aglaya did collapse once she stood up, she would be able to catch her, but apparently this was unnecessary and slowly Nastya lowered her arms.

Aglayka asked her to take her broom, and Nastya immediately moved towards the current champion’s broom. “Of course,” she belatedly confirmed, as she reached the handle of the broom and swiftly scooped it up and shouldered it. Part of her wanted to analyse her sister’s broom and note any differences between Aglayka’s and her own, so that she could make adjustments on a new broom (when she needed one) for enhanced performance, but Nastya refrained. This was neither the time or the place to do that.

As Aglayka set off, Nastya walked very slowly behind her. She figured that it would make the most sense to let her injured sister set the pace, so that she didn’t leave her behind. Of course, the benefit was that she could catch Aglaya or react to a change in situation more efficiently from behind where she would get more warning. The walk was almost agonisingly slow despite being at a fairly normal (if relaxed) pace, and Nastya was tired of trying to keep her thoughts as empty as possible as they remained silent.

As they arrived, Nastya’s eyes immediately started flitting about the room for anything that would be helpful, and so she completely ignored Aglaya as she sank down on the bed. The younger of the Tikhomirova siblings did not often venture into their mother’s treatment room as she rarely was injured enough to warrant seeking help. Her Wiggenweld potions throughout the years had more than been enough for her needs. As such, she was not so familiar with where her mother kept everything and this concerned her, considering how much blood Aglaya had already lost.

“Essence of dittany?” Nastya echoed, her voice rising sharply. She suddenly felt like she was back in Alchemy class and not knowing any of the answers. Of course, she knew what dittany was, after all, she did use it in making the Wiggenweld potion. But… Essence of dittany? Nastya was unsure what she was supposed to be looking for. Hesitantly, she moved over the cabinets she saw near the corner of the room by the door that led to the office and opened the doors up so that she could get a proper look at everything she was working with. “Essence of dittany… Essence of dittany…” Nastya muttered to herself as she ran her finger along the numerous vials and salves and other crazy things that were inside the cabinet. “It is a potion… so I guess that’d be in a vial, right?” She called out to Aglayka, trying to make it sound like she was just double-checking and definitely knew what she was looking for.

Aglaya made a good point that they should probably bandage her arm the muggle way, and Nastya turned away from the cabinet to respond to the idea. “Yes, that is a good idea. I can bandage it after I’ve applied the essence of dittany to the wound.” Anastasiya hoped she sounded level-headed and in control, while she had a bunch of butterflies running amok in her stomach. She temporarily abandoned searching for the essence to find the bandages. Alyona most likely just used the bandaging charm, but Nastya was convinced that her mother was smart and prepared enough to have some loose bandages, just in case. She saw a desk and started (gently) rummaging through the drawers until she found some that were just long enough for the purpose that the sisters needed it for.

“Right, got the bandages,” Nastya said, as she placed them by Aglayka’s side before already heading back to the cabinet to find the stupid essence of dittany. Once she got to the bottom row, Nastya was about to give up, when she saw a very small vial with tiny writing on the label. Grabbing it, Nastya held it up to the light and smiled triumphantly as it turned out to be exactly what they needed. “Got the vial!” She exclaimed, carefully shutting the cabinet doors and rushing back to her sister’s side.

“Okay,” Anastasiya breathed, “let me see it?” She added, gesturing to Aglaya’s arm before she started unravelling the bandages to save time in between the application of the essence and wrapping the bandage. The younger of the two sisters surprised herself with how well she was stomaching looking at Aglayka’s blood, but it did still make her feel a little queasy. “I don’t know how much, or if, this’ll hurt…” Nastya muttered apologetically, as she uncorked the vial. “But, try and stay as still as you can so I can get it all in the right place.” If her own hands weren’t slightly shaky from the rush of adrenaline that was entirely carrying her though the situation (whether or not Nastya realised it) then perhaps this wouldn’t have been a point that she would have needed to make.

Very carefully, Nastya began pouring little drips of the essence onto Aglayka’s wound, trying to be as efficient with the little amount she had as possible, whilst maximising the area of coverage. Honestly, Anastasiya had no idea if that would make a difference or not, she had no clue how the essence of dittany worked, but she still thought it was a sensible guess. Once she used it all up, Nastya placed the vial down by Aglaya’s side and picked up the bandages, half-gesturing them awkwardly and trying to figure out how to put them on properly. “I really wish mother was here…” Nastya muttered under her breath, feeling so very inadequate for dealing with the mess her elder sister had got herself into. “I don’t want to do more harm than good…” She softly added, mainly to herself, and not really intended for Aglaya to hear it.

Extremely cautiously, Nastya placed the beginning of the bandage just before Aglaya’s elbow, wrapping it round twice to provide a secure anchor for the rest of her bandage. “Let me know if it is too tight, okay?” Nastya soothed, wanting to make sure she did this well. Slowly, Nastya began wounding the fabric around the cut, taking her time and fixing any uneven parts as she went along down the arm towards Aglaya’s wrist. She wrapped a little further past the end of the cut to make sure it was all covered before securing it with a little safety pin. “There,” Nastya breathed as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Is that okay for you? Not too tight, not too loose?” She asked a little anxiously, feeling herself get a little more nauseous as she stared down at her hands from where she now had some of Aglaya’s blood coating them.

Aglaya did not listen to Nastya's mumbling as her sister searched for the essence of dittany that she had suggested. She did not react to her younger sibling's question either, barely even registering that she had asked anything at all.

The treatment room was about as cool as it was outside and it didn't help that Aglaya was only wearing a light top now and had lost quite some blood. She pressed the sweater onto her wound, shuddering because of how much it hurt and vaguely glanced in Nastya's direction as she found bandages and placed them next to her on the bed. She was still not feeling able to look into her sister's face, feeling embarrassed and strangely undeserving of her sibling's attention. A sniff escaped her again and she tried to calm herself by taking a few deep breaths.

In the meantime Nastya had found a small vial filled with essence of dittany and Aglaya wondered if its contents were enough for her wound. She felt like it would serve her well if it wasn't. She clearly deserved the pain for having put her entire family in such a straining situation and being silly enough to attempt to ride her broom again when she obviously was in no fit state to do so.

Aglaya was impressed by how her sister handled the situation and that made her feel even smaller and unworthier. As Nastya demanded to see her arm, Aglaya lowered her gaze some more, almost wanting to refuse to let her sister see this proof of her foolishness. Slowly she pulled the sweater off her arm, swallowing hard as she revealed the injury.

She twitched as the first drop of dittany fell onto her skin and stared at the wound as Nastya progressed pouring little drops onto her arm. It was fascinating to watch what the essence of dittany did. While it did not make the injury disappear, it still had an effect on most of it so that it did not look like a fresh cut anymore but rather like a two or three day old wound. The area close to her elbow where the cut had been deepest was still looking rather bad though and, unfortunately, it still hurt quite a bit but Aglaya was determined to pretend otherwise.

Nastya said that she wished that their mother was there and Aglaya immediately interpreted that as her sister not really wanting to help her. She felt how her shoulders sank down some more and she closed her eyes as they filled with tears again. This all was so wrong. In fact, the artistic flying champion now also felt that their mother should be here so she'd get her fair share of her fury. She was so undeserving of gentle treatment anyway.

It hurt as Nastya wrapped the bandage around her arm but at the same time it also felt good and it was a relief that there was a neat bandage instead of a sickening looking wound when her sister was done. “It's fine,” Aglaya whispered in response to her question. Realising that her voice was barely audible she continued a little bit louder, trying to give her voice her usual cool and steely edge but appalled by how timid it still sounded. “Thank you, Nastya.” She took another deep breath and rubbed her tear filled eyes with her left hand, unaware that she was already smearing little traces of blood across her face as she had before touched the injured arm with that hand.

“It already feels a lot better,” she said although it really only felt a little bit better. In fact, her arm was itching so much now that she had to fight the urge to scratch it. She bit her lips, staring at her bandaged arm. “It'll be fine in no time,” she said, with absolutely no conviction in her voice.

“I want to go home,” Aglaya said and slid off the bed. However, realising how shaky and dizzy she felt, she immediately sank back down on the mattress again, biting her lips to try and suppress a sob. She lowered her head, wiping away a tear that made its way down her cheek. She hadn't been aware just how weak she still was and how exhausting her short broom ride had been. Aglaya tried to remind herself that she was a multiple time champion and not some weak creature that was unable to even make her way home but at the moment she was so far from feeling like a champion, she barely felt like a normal human being.

“Nastenka,” she whispered meekly, “do you think you could get me a glass of water?” She felt that, maybe, she'd feel a little better if she took a sip of water. However, right now, she was closer to laying down on the bed than to getting to her feet again.

Aglaya didn’t respond to her question about the vial, and so Nastya took that as a confirmation that she was correct. If not, Aglaya would surely have mentioned it.

Nastya wasn’t really paying attention to Aglaya’s reactions much, or really caring how emotional her sister was in that moment. While she had this task to do, while she had this purpose, it was easy to detach herself and not think about what had happened. She only needed to focus on the task, and fix what was wrong. She wondered if this was how their mother felt while she was treating others, and especially when she was treating herself and Aglayka.

Aglayka’s wound was horrific, and Nastya was having to suppress all her instincts to look away and bolt from the room. After several similar events, where Nastya had tried to help, tried to care, and she had been pushed, pulled or yanked away… it was now ingrained in her that this was somehow not her place. It felt unnatural, yet somehow still so right, to be doing this for her elder sister.

Watching the wound sort of heal and transform was really interesting though, and Nastya’s eyes gleamed with the first bit of light in a while, delighted that sometimes magic could still be so amazing even though she had lived her whole life in the wizarding world. “Wow…” She whispered.

Nastya only allowed herself to relax a little bit as Aglayka finally whispered her assent that the bandage was okay. Looking at it properly, Anastasiya smiled with pride, awfully pleased at what she had accomplished. Of course, her mother would have done an even better job, and Aglayka wouldn’t have even needed a bandage, but she had no healing training and her ‘patient’ was still alive. She thought that she had earned the right to be very well pleased with herself. Nastya stepped back from her sister slightly, uncomfortable with how many times her elder sister had thanked her that day, and even more uncomfortable with her sister’s blood coating her hands. “You’re welcome…” Nastya replied, clearly not paying attention as she stared in horror at her hands. She had to get it off. That was the only thing that mattered now.

Reaching for her wand, Nastya felt like she was going to gag as she hastily pointed it at her hand. “Tergeo,” she muttered under her breath, breathing in relief as the blood siphoned itself off and her hands looked clean again. The younger Tikhomirova sister turned to face Aglayka, realising that her elder sister had been speaking to her and that she absolutely was not listening. It didn’t really matter though, as Nastya noticed that Aglayka had managed to smudge a little bit of blood on her face and Nastya was not going to be at ease until every spec of it was gone. “Sorry,” she interjected, “you’ve got a bit of blood on your face. Lemme get it for you.” Nastya smiled hesitantly, as she discreetly aimed her wand at her sister’s face and repeated the charm again. “There. All gone.” Nastya sighed, finally able to relax and not worry that she was going to puke in front of her sister.

Aglayka stood up, proclaiming her intent to seemingly go home right that second, and Nastya moved to push her back down on the bed but Aglaya’s own body accomplished it for her. Anastasiya really wondered why her sister was always so obsessed with pushing herself so hard when she clearly couldn’t handle it. It made no sense to her. “It’s okay. We will, we will,” Nastya soothed, gently stroking her sister’s good shoulder. “But take it easy. There’s no rush.” Judging by what her sister had said earlier, there would be no danger of Alyona coming to look for her or Aglayka, so they really did have all the time in the world.

“Yes?” Nastya turned her full attention onto her sister. Water? She could definitely manage that. At least it wasn’t a ridiculous request like ‘ can you get me my ability to do strenuous activity again?’ which is what Nastya had honestly been expecting. “Sure,” she muttered, stretching her arms a little bit as she looked around the room for a glass. None popped out in her immediate view, but she was positive that there would be one in the room somewhere. “Accio, glass!” Nastya called out, smiling at how much practice she was getting in with her casting as she caught the flying glass in her hand. “Aguamenti,” she enunciated, aiming for the glass but she clearly hadn’t mastered the spell and so not even half the glass was filled. “Oh…” Nastya muttered disappointedly, feeling her cheeks burn a little bit, knowing that Aglayka could probably do it with no problem.

She handed the glass to her sister regardless, sheepishly adding, “It probably isn’t a good idea to have too much all at once anyway…” She narrowed her eyes at Aglayka, wondering how exactly they were going to get home when Aglaya was clearly not in a state to make such a trip. Nastya didn’t really want to repeat the fiasco of the last time the duo had attempted a trip when neither of them were in a fit state to do so. “Anything else you need?” Nastya anxiously asked, fully sincere. “Are you cold? Do you want my jacket?” She asked, as she pulled out her national team jacket from her training bag and held it up as she offered.

“So… Any ideas how we’ll get you home? I think apparition is off the table for the rest of today… and I am not dragging you all the way there again.” Nastya chuckled, genuinely thinking back on the trip as rather comical, her eyes lighting up as she did so.

“Hm?” Aglaya asked, still not daring to make eye contact with her sister. She had blood on her face. Aglaya looked at her left hand that was still a little sticky with blood and shrugged. Did it really matter? She assumed that Nastya didn't feel comfortable seeing this much blood but, truth be told, Aglaya did not really mind it herself. The only thing that she disliked was the smell of blood that was in the air and she eyed the stained sweater which clearly was one of the sources for the odour.

Nastya had cleaned her own hands by now and aimed her wand at Aglaya's face to clean the blood smears off there too. The older Tikhomirova felt tense as usual when her sister pointed her wand at her but did not fight it. Nastya clearly wasn't out to harm her now and it made sense to clean her face if there was indeed blood on it.

As she got to her feet Nastya approached her and Aglaya wasn't sure why her sister had moved towards her. It didn't matter much in the end as she was sinking back down on the bed anyway.

Nastya tried to soothe her again, stroking her shoulder and saying that it was okay and that they'd have time. Aglaya did not agree. While she did not exactly expect her mother to turn up here or at her place, she wanted nothing more than to get home and into her bed now. Besides, she wanted to be alone so she could lick her wounds and not have anyone to witness how weakened and upset she was.

“I don't want to stay here,” Aglaya muttered stubbornly, staring at the floor. She sighed deeply, closed her eyes and bit her lips as she felt like she was close to bursting into tears again. She felt as though things were not improving in the slightest. How much longer would she be helpless and unable to do what she wanted to do? Not for the first time she wondered if it had not been better if she had indeed died on the open day.

She was grateful that Nastya was so nice to get her a glass of water. Aglaya barely looked as Nastya summoned the glass and cast the aguamenti spell. Therefore, she was not really aware of the fact that her sister had not fully succeeded with what she wanted to do. On any other occasion she would have noticed that though and she would have taken the opportunity to comment on it. Now, however, she did not even think about that she'd have done a better job had her wand arm not been injured.

Taking the glass she smiled gratefully but still didn't look up to her sister. “Thanks,” she whispered as she lifted the glass to her lips to take a first sip. It felt good to drink some water. Aglaya realised that she was actually quite thirsty but her sister had not exactly supplied a great amount of water. She did not dare to ask for more though and just put the empty glass on the mattress next to her blood stained sweater.

She sniffed feeling quite touched as her sister asked if there was anything else she needed. She looked at the national team jacket that Nastya offered her, suddenly feeling strangely unworthy of it.  She was cold, yes, but could she take her sister up on the offer? She did not deserve wearing a national team jacket when she was in such a state or that was at least how she felt.

“No, thanks, I don't think so...” she mumbled while the goosebumps on her skin spoke a different language.

Nastya's chuckle totally confused Aglaya and she was almost tempted to look into her sister's face to check what it meant. What was it that amused her younger sister in this situation? Anyway, she kept her gaze turned down to the floor as though the pattern of the stone floor was the most interesting thing she had ever seen.

“I could apparate...” Aglaya mused, thinking that she might be in a better mental state now than she had been when she had come to the flying school. She understood that Nastya did not want to go through a similar ordeal they had faced last time when her sister had brought her home. It was quite understandable and she did not hold it against her. On the contrary, Aglaya wished that she'd find a way to get home without having to rely on any help. However, she assumed that apparition wasn't exactly the best idea after she had only just splinched herself.

“Maybe...” she added timidly, “maybe you could cast the disillusionment charm on me again and I could fly home on my broom...” she did not even consider that Nastya could cast the charm on them both again and they could fly together. It seemed like such an imposition that she didn't dare to even see it as a possibility.

The lack of eye contact she was being given was starting to get on Nastya’s nerves. It had been fine for a minute or two, but this was getting ridiculous. It did not help that someone she still felt a little queasy and on edge, but she wasn’t sure why. The younger of the two sisters hadn’t yet figured out that the smell of blood that hadn’t yet gone away despite the fact she had already removed all the blood she could see, was actually coming from Aglaya’s sweater.

Briefly, Anastasiya wondered if Aglayka was actually okay and comfortable with her physical displays of affection. Aglaya had never shown much, if any, affection towards her, (in fact neither had their mother) and she was worried it was making Aglaya uncomfortable, but figured that it was the least of her sister’s worries. At the very least, it made Nastya happy… sort of.

“Alright,” Nastya sighed, running a hand through her hair, starting to become frustrated with Aglaya. Her elder sister was making it really difficult to care about her feelings at that moment. Nastya hoped that Aglayka wasn’t going to cry again. Crying about it wasn’t going to help them, or help her. In fact, it would make Nastya feel even more guilty that she hadn’t done a proper job of healing her arm. Then again, Nastya thought that Aglaya shouldn’t have forced her into this situation anyway.

It was unnatural to hear so much gratitude come out of Aglaya’s mouth and directed at her. Quite frankly, it was rather irritating. Nastya’s hand flexed and curled into a ball. “No problem,” she replied tersely with a sharp nod. She watched her sister drink the water she gave her, and her eyes followed the glass as Aglaya placed it on the mattress next to the blood stained sweater. Anastasiya’s eyes locked onto the blood. She had to get rid of it. She snatched her wand up, frantically aiming it at the sweater. “Scourgify.” Still most of the stain remained. Nastya growled a little, the thought of getting rid of it becoming obsessive and overwhelming. “Turgeo.” She shakily muttered, watching as it removed all but a small stain. Nastya shut her eyes, and breathed out as she lowered her wand again. It was fine. Everything was fine.

Her sister said she wasn’t cold and randomly thanked her needlessly again. Nastya’s lips drew thinner as she bristled. Her jaw clenched as she puffed out air through her nose. Aglaya was seriously impossible to deal with. She could clearly see the goosebumps on her sister’s skin that proved that she was cold. If Aglayka had some weird complex about wearing Nastya’s national team jacket then that was stupid, childish and... stupid. “For Merlin’s sake, just wear the bloody jacket!” Nastya couldn’t help raising her voice, as she chucked the jacket at Aglaya’s face. “You’re a terrible liar,” she muttered lowly, though that wasn’t really true and Nastya would have believed her if not for the physical evidence suggesting otherwise.

“I could apparate...”  Nastya laughed incredulously. How was her sister so dumb and reckless? “Are you kidding me?!” Nastya screeched shrilly. “No! There’s no way I’m letting you do that! Don’t be ridiculous!” Anastasiya added as she flung her arms about, and began pacing the room. Aglaya had splinched her arm already, and Nastya knew that if she let her sister go in such a condition, then perhaps she could completely sever something the next attempt of apparition. Nastya refused to let that happen. She refused to have anymore of Aglaya’s blood on her hands, both figuratively and literally. She was going to find a safe way to get her home, and if she somehow had to immobilise Aglaya and walk all the way to her home, carrying Aglaya piggy-back style, then she would. “Of all the crazy, irresponsible things to say…” Nastya muttered to herself as she shook her head, still pacing the room.

Aglaya continued on with another ‘suggestion’, this time that she could cast the disillusionment charm on her sister and let her fly home on her broom. Nastya noticed that both times Aglaya said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’. Nastya wondered what Aglayka thought she would be doing while this was happening. The idea itself wasn’t bad though. “Yeah, and who is going to remove the charm from you? Probably not you.” She shrugged exaggeratedly, with a sarcastic smile. “That’d be fun to deal with in the morning, Mama showing up to find your discombobulated voice. That definitely wouldn’t freak her out. Or get me into trouble.” Nastya spat out, still pacing to the point she was probably going to wear a hole into the floor. She hoped it was clear that she was frustrated with the creases in her forehead and slapping her legs every so often.

“As if I’m going to leave you unattended like this anyway… I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.” Nastya added sternly, trying to look Aglaya in the eyes. “And I’m going to stay with you until tomorrow morning to make sure you stay alright.” Her voice softened, her angry features melting into worry, care and concern for her suffering sister. “I guess… we could both fly on your broom though. Seems easier than walking or giving you a piggyback.” Nastya relented with a smile.

“Right, let’s get a move on…” Nastya muttered, rushing round the place trying to make it as if they’d never been there. Hastily she took the glass from the mattress and looked around the room trying to figure out where to put it. Eventually, she half-jogged to a cabinet and hid it there. She briskly moved back to retrieve the empty vial and return it to its original spot, hoping that Alyona wouldn’t notice that it was empty. Nastya grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder before bending down to pick up her sister’s broom. She moved back to the bed to stuff Aglaya’s still partially stained sweater into her training bag. “Up, up, up…” Nastya gestured with her free hand, to get Aglaya to stand up so that she could smooth down the bed and make it look like it hadn’t been disturbed. Unknowingly, Nastya had missed the tiny speck of blood remaining on the mattress.

“Ready to go?” She asked with a smile, already heading towards the door, eager to get Aglaya back to her home all of a sudden.

As if she wasn't feeling awful enough already, Nastya now reacted quite extremely to the blood stained sweater. If even possible Aglaya hunched her back some more, feeling entirely miserable that her sister was now trying to remove her blood in a way as though she was taking offence from seeing it. She suppressed another sniff and bit her lips as she heard Nastya voice cleaning incantations.

Why had her sister been at the artistic flying school tonight? Why had she approached her? Why did she now bother to clean up? Just why? The artistic flying champion wondered what would have been if Nastya had not shown up. She'd have laid on the grass, bled and… well, she assumed although the wound had been pretty bad she might not have bled to death.

Nastya raised her voice at her and Aglaya just felt like crying again. Silent tears ran down her face as she tried all in her might to stop herself from sobbing loudly. Her sister now chucked the jacket at her face and Aglaya clumsily caught it with her left hand. Nastya called her a terrible liar and she was probably right – to some degree at least. Aglaya was much better at keeping secrets from the rest of the family than actually lying to them. However, it did not matter now. Funnily, though she felt affronted, being called out for being terrible at anything just felt wrong for the usually so competitive witch.

She decided that it made no sense to fight Nastya when it came to wearing the jacket. She was, after all, really cold anyway. Carefully she pulled the sleeve over her bad arm, wincing as she did so. The wound, while not bleeding anymore as far as she could tell now that it was bandaged, was still very sensitive to her touch.

Her sister laughed at her for mentioning apparition and Aglaya sniffed quietly again just as Nastya began to screech at her. “Please...” she muttered faintly. “Don't yell at me.” Her voice broke off. She felt so vulnerable and helpless that she could not believe that only a few weeks ago she had defended her title at the European Championships. Clearly nobody would believe that she was a reigning champion if they saw her.

Nastya was pacing the room now, still seemingly furious about her idea to apparate home. Aglaya didn't quite understand why this irritated her sister so much. She should be glad to get rid of her now, shouldn't she? She was just an unnecessary burden to her sister, wasn't she? Wouldn't it be the best if she just disappeared – one way or another?

“I could probably…” her voice trailed off as she was trying to respond to who would lift the disillusionment charm off herself. She thought that, maybe, she could actually do it herself but as she lifted her right arm in an attempt to demonstrate that she'd manage she realised that this was probably not quite right. It still hurt and she wasn't sure how the injury would affect her casting abilities either.

As Nastya went on about how their mother would react to finding a disillusioned Aglaya the next day, the elder of the Tikhomirova sisters shook her head. Why would their mother blame her perfect little sister if she had brought herself into a new kind of mess?

Aglaya wondered if Nastya would ever stop talking, or ranting more precisely. She looked up a little though not into her sister's face as she stated that she wouldn't leave her unattended and would stay until the next morning. A quiet “why?” escaped the elder sister before she could help it. Why would Nastya want to waste her time staying with her? She was hopeless anyway. What did it matter how she was? Regardless of what Nastya would do – she was not alright and felt certain that she wouldn't be for another while at least.

Apparently Nastya was now determined to fly home with her and Aglaya shook her head. “Nastya…” she said in desperation, not finishing her sentence or actually her thought.

While Aglaya still tried to figure out what to say, her sister was already tidying up all around her. It seemed like it was futile to try and discuss her journey home with Nastya any longer. The younger witch seemed quite determined and Aglaya felt too weak to oppose her now.

As Nastya rushed her to get up, she slowly slid off the bed again. Standing did not exactly feel good but she figured she could get to the exit and ride her broom anyway. She'd likely collapse at home but there was at least hope that she'd make it there in the first place.

Aglaya wanted to say 'no' in response to Nastya's question if she was ready to go but she knew that it would not change a thing and, besides, she had a hunch she wouldn't feel better if they put it off either. Therefore, she just nodded barely recognisably and slowly walked towards the door and then out into the corridor, leaving Nastya to shut the door behind them.

She sped up a little – as far as she could anyway – but came to an abrupt halt in front of the door that led outside, suddenly feeling rather panicky. The dizziness was there again all of a sudden and she swallowed hard. What if he was out there waiting for her? Her heartbeat quickened and she felt that she was shaking now. With all her might she tried to calm herself as she didn't want to let her sister see that she was not only weak and vulnerable but also scared out of her mind.

“Time for the disillusionment charm,” she said in a trembling voice and forced a grimace-like smile onto her face.