What if Hope had a best friend that would stick by her through everything?
Beatrice Nora Bennett is a siphoning werewitch who went to the Salvatore School. She was taken away by Triad when she was 12 after they found out she was a siphon and erased...
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Therapy Session - Bea
The office felt colder than usual, the faint hum of the clock on the wall a cruel reminder of the time slipping away. Bea sat on the couch, her posture guarded, her eyes fixed on the floor. The tension in her shoulders hadn't lessened in weeks, and the weight of Josie and Mal's absence was an unbearable burden.
Emma's voice broke the silence, smooth and calculated. "Good morning, Bea. How are you feeling today?"
"Too stressed to be here," Bea muttered, her tone sharp. "I should be out helping look for my best friends."
Emma folded her hands in her lap, her expression carefully neutral. "I know the situation with Josie and Mal is dire, but for now, we need to focus on you. Is that okay?"
Bea huffed, shaking her head. "Does it really matter what I have to say?"
"It matters immensely," Emma said softly. "You've been carrying so much, Bea. But carrying the weight of the world isn't sustainable—not even for someone as strong as you."
Bea didn't respond, her jaw tightening.
Emma studied her for a moment, then shifted gears. "Let's talk about Piper. How did her death make you feel?"
Bea flinched, her throat tightening. The mention of Pip felt like an open wound being prodded. "We deserved a better goodbye," she whispered, the words barely audible.
Emma leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. "It hurts, doesn't it? Losing her like that."
Bea's hands clenched into fists on her lap. "It hurts," she said, her voice cracking. "It hurts so fucking much...but I'll keep it to myself if it means no one else will get hurt."
Emma's lips curved into the faintest smile, her tone taking on a subtle edge. "Do you think you could have saved them, Gwen and Piper, that day? If you had tried harder?"
Bea's head snapped up, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and pain. "Everyone says I shouldn't blame myself. Saving everyone that day wasn't humanly possible."
Emma tilted her head, her smile growing. "You don't believe that though, do you? You are not human, Bea. And you're certainly not just anybody. You are Beatrice Nora Bennett—the first siphon of the Bennett line and a member of the Crescents. You are meant to beat the odds."
The words hung in the air, digging into Bea's psyche. Her breath hitched as Emma's tone softened again, almost nurturing.
"You've always been told to put others first, haven't you? To save everyone else, no matter what it costs you," Emma continued. "But what about you, Bea? Who's saving you?"
Bea's walls began to crumble under the weight of the question. She looked away, blinking rapidly to fight back tears. "No one," she admitted quietly.
Emma's eyes gleamed. "Exactly. And that's why you need to ask yourself: Is it fair to keep sacrificing yourself for people who don't understand what you've endured? For people who might not even deserve it?"
