The Everlasting One (An American Horror Story: Coven Fanfiction) [COMPLETED]

Chapter Ten: Confusion, Part 2

A/N: Sorry I haven't been able to update in a while.
This chapter is dedicated to my 151 readers. Thank you guys. So much.

*Alex's POV
   "I'm pretty sure you're- no, I'm positive- that y-you're the next Supreme." Cordelia bites her lip.
   "The next what?!" I exclaim, though I heard her perfectly.
   "The next Supreme." Cordelia says calmly.
   "The next Supreme." I repeat.
   She hesitates, then nods. "I was debating earlier, because most witches only show power in times of crisis or when the reigning Supreme has been reigning for about thirty years or so-"
   "I need some time to think." I interrupt, grabbing my bag and storming out of the room. Cordelia doesn't follow. Good.
   I sigh as I hit the New Orleans streets. Where do I go? What do I do? I can't go back to the Academy. I can't go to the swamps. I can't talk to or tell anyone. I have no family.
   "What do I do, God?" I ask, facepalming because I realize how ironic I must sound, and how stupid asking God for advice in the middle of the sidewalk must look.
   I get a few stares, but I just shrug them off.
   I wander a bit farther, stopping in front of a large and seemingly abandoned building. I look up at the rooftop, shut the door behind me, and transmutate there.
   "Wow." I breathe, the wind whistling in my ears. I can see all the way to the Academy from this high.
   I look down at the pavement far beneath me.
   And the question jumps into my mind;
   "What if I jumped?"
   The sudden brain activity spooks me so much I step away from the ledge, which was probably a good move on my part.
   I hesitate, then step forward again, staring at the asphalt at least twelve flights beneath me.
   Another shiver runs up my spine as my hand brushes the cold railing, and I see my remains scattered on the street like gravel.
The blood.
   The impact- of such a blunt force hitting my own.
   Knocks all the wind out of my lungs.
   And the blood pools around my head.
   One less sad little orphan...
   "She was our only hope..."
   "Stop!" A voice shouts, making me snap back into reality. Someone's pale arms snake around my waist and I'm dragged backwards. "What tha' hell do ya' think ya're doin'?"
   "Misty?" I ask, turning to face the wild blonde. "What are you doing here?"
   "What am I doing here? I'm savin' ya' ass from jumping offa roof! What are ya' doing here?"
   "About to jump off a roof, apparently." I mutter, curling into a little ball on the ground.
   "Hey- hey, no, it's alright." Misty sighs, grabbing something from the floor. It's a cassette player. "Maybe Stevie'll calm you down." She turns it on and sits beside me, playing with a few strands of my hair. Soft guitar starts to play in the background.
   "You like Fleetwood Mac?" I ask, the wind hitting my face and whipping my hair rather annoyingly.
   "Ya' know who Fleetwood Mac is?" She asks. "Oh ma' Lord, I thought I was the only one in New Orleans."
   "Are you kidding?" I laugh. "I listen to Stevie whenever I'm alone."
   "Which is all the time." We say simultaneously. We stare at each other for a minute before turning away because the tension is getting too thick.
   "I... I'm sorry for shovin' ya' back there." She says, and I notice she's still wearing her hospital gown. "I wanna thank ya' for savin' ma' life. Twice."
   "It's no prob." I reply. "I don't know where that... leaning over the railing bit would've gotten me, so... did you transmutate here?"
   "Yea', it was weird." She says. "Me and Delia were sitting, and it was real quiet, and then I felt this... pull. And then I heard the voices. It's never happened before."
   "Well, the book said that Resurgants can sense death and corpses, right?" She nods. "Maybe now you can sense when someone's thinking about killing themselves."
   "Hmm. Maybe ya're right. And Alex?" My ocean orbs meet her cerulean ones. "Don' eva' think about killing yaself again. Even if it's jus' a passing thought. And if ya' do, I'll come and slap some sense into ya' face." We both grin. "But seriously-"
   "I get it, Misty." I roll my eyes. "Don't kill myself."
   "No, ya' don' get it. Ya're special. Ya're the next Supreme." She wipes a tear from my face. "Ya're gonna be a great leader one day."
   "I just need to think some more." I sigh, knowing that I was just afraid. Afraid of becoming a leader.
   "No ya' don't. Not alone, anyway." She jokes.
   I'd never had anyone to look up to but the sky.
   And not even it was ever the leader.
   Just another pretty thing.
   "Thanks for hearing me, Misty. You didn't have to come."
   "But I did. You saved ma' life. I was jus' returnin' the favor."

*Cordelia's POV
   "You bitch!" I shout at my mother as she sits on the cream-colored chair, smoking a cigarette, an annoyed expression on her face. "I know what you did!"
   "You will not talk to your Supreme like that, little whore!" She shouts, suddenly enraged, and I fly into the back wall.
   "You're not the Supreme!" I sob, the vulnerable teenager coming out from hiding.
   "As long as I am still alive, I am the Supreme!" She screams.
   "Don't lay a finger on her, you old bat!" Myrtle's extreme heels click on the floor as she enters the room and picks me up off the floor.
   "When I kill you, you stay dead!" Fiona hollers, throwing Myrtle against the wall.
   I thrust my hand out, willing my mother across the room, but it doesn't happen.
   She tosses her head back in her playful, signature-Fiona laugh, triumphant. "I told you, Delia. As long as I'm alive, I'm the Supreme."
   "Auntie Myrtle... my powers..." I whimper like a child, trying to light the cigarillo she's now holding in her gloved hand.
   Nothing happens.
   "They were here a minute ago!" I shout, thinking of when I transmutated to the swamps, then home when I understood what Fiona had done.
   "Why don't you sit down, chickie." Myrtle says calmly, casting her hand out in Fiona's direction, but she doesn't move. "What?" Myrtle drops the cigarillo, clutching her hand. "It can't be."
   "Miss Cordelia!" A voice comes floating into the room from the stairwell, followed by Zoe. "Queenie's hurt!"
   I shut my eyes and picture Zoe and Queenie's shared bedroom beside mine, but when I open my eyes, I'm still in the ancestry room, and my mother is watching me with a pleased smile on her face.
   "Queenie, what happened?" I ask as I burst into the room, breathless from running up the stairs. Madison is standing by the doorway, a pleased smile (almost identical to my mother's) on her lips.
   "Girl, Madison pissed me off, and I stabbed myself in the leg."
   I glance at her thigh, which is oozing blood from the torn fabric of her leggings.
   "Why are you bleeding?" I ask frantically, tying a T-shirt around her wound. "And why is there so much?"
   "I don't know, girl. My magic didn't work!"
   "Why can't I heal it?" I growl, cupping my hands over the wound, but it continues to squirt blood. My vision starts to get fuzzy.
   "Miss Cordelia!" I hear Misty shout from the hallway. "Miss Cordelia!"
   "In here!" I call, looking around. Black frames my eyes and there are white, blinking stars everywhere. I hear pounding footsteps rush into the room. "What is it, Misty?"
   "My powers are gone!"
   "Mine too!" A voice from the hallway calls.
   "I can't transmutate!" Zoe screams.
   "Everyone meet me in the ancestry room!" I shout. "Tell everyone else!"
   "Okay." Zoe says, and I hear her rush off.
   Everything slowly fades into blackness.
   And no voices are heard.