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“And every broken bone and scar
Won't define just who you are
Someday you'll grow up just like you should.”
Let it be said that Julie was not oblivious. From the second thirteen-year-old Flynn had turned up on her doorstep in tears, swearing to hate Carrie until her dying breath, Julie knew there was more to it than Flynn would say.
Flynn and Carrie always had a push-and-pull relationship, even when they were kids. Julie loved them both endlessly and knew they loved each other, but their way of expressing that love was often with arguments and bickering that ended in laughter and then proclamations of love.
When their friendship broke down, when Carrie turned her back on them, they kept their push-and-pull, but the brief conversations ended in glares and scathing words, no love shown.
Sitting in Carrie and Nick’s hospital room, Julie watches Flynn sit at Carrie’s bedside, holding her hand and biting their lip anxiously, and knows there was always love there.
Trevor stands further back, holding his phone but watching Carrie’s even breathing, eyes occasionally glancing at Julie or the closed door that the boys had stayed behind. He had come to the Club as soon as he could, freezing in the doorway as he took in the three ghosts from his youth staring back at him. He had refocused quickly, seeing Carrie’s form and running towards her with no hesitation, pulling every string he could to get her and Nick to the closest hospital he trusted, both in a room big enough for all the people worried for them.
He hadn’t sat down since they arrived.
“Trevor.” Julie stands, approaching him carefully. She doesn’t know who she sees in him anymore; the rockstar, Carrie’s dad, or the boys’ Bobby. “Sit down.”
Trevor hesitates but takes the seat, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Julie.”
“She’ll be okay. She’s Carrie, she’s stubborn enough to survive anything.” Julie tries to comfort him, and it earns a small laugh.
“I know. Just… wish I could’ve stopped her. Helped her. Anything.”
Julie and Flynn had explained what happened to Carrie on the drive to the hospital, not holding any truth about ghosts back from him, and he had taken it surprisingly well, for a man who ran out of the house when the boys had spooked him.
They hadn’t explained it all to Nick’s family, though, as his dads sit at his bedside and his little sister perches on the side of his bed. They were currently under the impression Carrie found him at a club she and Flynn were going to, and he had suddenly collapsed out of nowhere.
Trevor was already involved in the afterlife, with the boys and now Carrie, but they didn’t need to bring the Danforth-Evans in as well. Flynn suggested they leave it to Nick, depending on what he even remembered from the past two weeks, and Julie didn’t have any other ideas.
A noise from Nick’s side catches everyone’s attention, as he groans and slightly opens his eyes, only to be immediately greeted by his sister trying to hug him. “Ellie?”
“Nick!” His sister all but yells back, letting herself be picked up by one of Nick’s dads as they surround him, murmuring comforts as they let him sit up gingerly.
“What’s going on? What happened?” Nick asks blearily, eyes searching the room.
One of Nick’s dads, Ryan, frowns deeper. “We were hoping you could tell us, Nick. It’s been a long two weeks that we don’t really understand.”
Nick keeps searching the room, eyes pausing on Carrie’s bed before he finds Julie. She freezes under his eyes, then she sees his expression soften. “Julie. You’re okay.”
She approaches his bed hesitantly, smiling with what she hopes is comfort. “I’m alright. You worried all of us, though.”
Nick smiles back, but it looks painful. “It’s been two weeks?” He asks his dads, and that only furthers their worry. “I only remember some of it.” He turns to Julie again, and guilt floods her, but she holds her words back until she can say them only to him. “I feel alright now. Myself. Sore, though.”
Nick’s other dad, Chad, shakes his head as he smiles softly. “Yeah, you’ve got a few diagnoses. Concussion, busted shoulder, and that passing out got us concerned. No lacrosse for a minute, that’s for sure.”
Nick groans, falling back against the pillows of his bed. “Daaaaaaad.”
“Doctor’s orders, kid, not mine.”
“Damn it.” Nick sounds like himself, and Julie smiles at him once more before retreating to the corner to watch Carrie again. She prays silently, asking her mum to make sure Carrie will be alright, for everything she did to try and protect Julie and her boys.
None of them were really sure what happened after Julie tried to break Caleb’s curses through Carrie. They had only seen Carrie collapse, clutching her chest as she cried and talked to herself, before Aldrich had appeared and expelled Caleb from her with a scream that still echoed in Julie’s mind.
Only Carrie knew, and she was the one yet to wake up.
Almost an hour later, after much fussing, Nick’s dads and sister left to go and get Nick some clothes and his phone, Trevor had walked outside for a phone call, and Flynn was asleep by Carrie’s bed, leaving just Nick and Julie awake in the room.
“Will she be okay?” She hears Nick asking, snapping her back to the present as she turns to him.
“She’s Carrie, she’ll be alright. Bruised ribs, broken foot, dislocated shoulder… she’ll be up as soon as she’s allowed.”
Nick glances out the window, seeing the sunlight blazing through. “I wonder what school thinks happened to us.”
That surprises a laugh out of Julie, “Telling all kinds of stories, I’m sure. Carrie being gone would be enough, but the three of us as well? That’s a newspaper headline.”
Nick laughs lightly before his face drops into something more serious, and Julie knows what’s coming. “Yeah, a few things over the past few weeks would make that headline.”
“I guess.” She’s hesitant to say anything, unsure what he blames on her. “I guess it's easier to not know.”
“Maybe.” Nick’s still watching her, picking at the threadbare blanket across his legs. “So, that ghost. Caleb. He’s gone? For good?”
Julie nods, pushing herself off the wall and walking closer to him. “Yeah. He’s destroyed.”
“How did Carrie get hurt?” Nick’s words are hesitant like he’s scared to know, and Julie hates it.
“After Caleb… left you, he tried to possess me. That didn’t work, so he took Carrie instead. He was… in her when we fought against him. He hurt her while he was possessing her, before he got pulled out of her and properly… killed.”
Nick sighs, nodding stiffly. “Right. Cause that’s normal things that happen.”
Julie breathes out shakily and steps closer, holding her own hands tight beside Nick’s bed. “I’m so sorry you ever got involved in this. I never thought you’d get involved, let alone hurt this much. I’m just- I’m so sorry, Nick.” The words tumble out of her mouth in a rush before she can filter them, and Nick’s face stays blank as he takes in her words, before a soft smile she’s always associated with Nick takes over his face.
“I don’t blame you, Julie. You’re basically magic, so a bad guy used people in your life against you? Alright, you can’t help that. And you saved me, so I really should be thanking you.”
A question comes to Julie’s mind, and she asks it before she can stop herself. “Do you really not remember the past two weeks?”
Nick’s eyes drop quickly, the blanket beneath his fingers suddenly very interesting. “I remember it. I didn’t know how long it had been, but I remember a lot of what I- he did.” Nick’s eyes float up to Flynn and Carrie, how Flynn is still holding Carrie’s hand as they both sleep, and his eyes soften. “You’re friends again?” He asks, clearly not wanting to think more on Caleb.
Julie follows his eyes and smiles gently. “Something like that. Carrie knew something was up with you, she asked for our help. She’s… trying. You two should talk, when you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah. We should.” Nick’s voice is quiet, and something that feels like peace settles in the room.
“You can rest, Nick. We’ll be around.” She smiles at him as he closes his eyes, and goes to join Flynn beside Carrie.
Flynn is in one of Julie’s sweaters, brought by Ray when Julie had called him to catch him up on everything, not wanting to stay in their suit from the Club. It had been a long phone call in the back of Trevor’s car, filled with questions Julie didn’t know the answers to and confirmations that she was okay. Ray had joined them waiting in the reception, a smile Julie couldn’t quite interpret coming to his face at Trevor’s presence, the two men hugging and talking quietly between themselves for a while. He had eventually let her miss school to be by Carrie’s side with the promise she’d come home when she was awake, and she knew there was another conversation to be had when she returned home.
Left the only one awake in the room, Julie begins to hate the feeling of being back in a hospital. She hadn’t been in once since her mother was sick, and even if it wasn’t the same hospital, seeing sterile white and hearing the beeping of machines was far too like her own tragedies. Her skin crawls as she takes in the tubes surrounding Carrie’s bed, and she nudges Flynn before her mind spirals further.
“Hey.” She whispers, and Flynn wakes up with a start without dropping Carrie’s hand.
“Whatsup?” Flynn slurs, shaking her eyes awake.
“I don’t like being the only one up in this place. Talk to me.” She sits beside them, sitting sideways on the armchair barely made for one of them, and Flynn obeys as she drapes her other arm over Julie’s legs.
They start talking about an assignment they’re working on for English, something about Shakespeare that Julie didn’t care much for but Flynn was passionate about, explaining the dynamics of Much Ado About Nothing with barely a breath between.
“So… they’re rivals to lovers?” Julie smiles, seeing the connection that Flynn misses.
“Well, yeah, but there’s a friendship between them too. He believed her, and fought for her even when his friends didn’t.”
Julie smirks, fuelled up for teasing her best friend. “Right. So, who’s who?”
Flynn, to their credit, looks genuinely confused. “In what?”
Oh, how perfect. “Benedick and Beatrice, you and Carrie. Who’s who?”
Flynn’s eyes widen before they settle into a glare, and Julie grins wide at her best friend. “You’re the worst, Jules.”
“You love me.” Julie keeps grinning, leaning forward. “And you love her.” She whispers, laughing quietly when Flynn punches her shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up.” She hisses, but there’s no real anger or denial. “Also, of course, I’m Beatrice. Smart, sassy, and never needing a man.”
“You’re Benedick, cause you’re a dick.” A scratchy voice whispers with a weak laugh, and Julie and Flynn both whip around to see Carrie smiling tiredly at them.
“Carrie.” Flynn’s eyes soften immediately upon seeing her, before they process her words. “Rude.”
“How are you feeling?” Julie asks, twisting to face her.
“Sore. My throat hurts, and everything else.” Carrie whispers, sounding less painful, and Julie frowns sympathetically.
Flynn freezes for a moment at Carrie’s words, and Julie notices how Carrie pulls Flynn’s hand a tiny bit closer. “You screamed a few times. It sounded painful.”
“Yeah. Not the most fun night out I’ve had.” Carrie smiles weakly, looking down and taking in her injured figure. Her eyes land on the cast on her foot, and her entire face drops. “Fuck. I broke it?”
Julie winces, knowing what Carrie’s thinking. “Yeah. Foot. But they said it’s not too bad, and you’ll be able to dance again after it heals.”
Carrie nods stiffly, biting her lip. “Alright. It’ll be fine.”
“You will be, Carrie.” Julie agrees, eyes soft and caring.
Flynn moves anyway, brushing past Julie, letting go of Carrie’s hand for the first time since Carrie was put in that bed only to wrap her arms around her shoulders as gently as she can. “You’ll kick this recovery in the ass, like everything you do. And we’ll be by your side.”
Julie smiles at the sight before her, feeling like everything is finally settling into place.
---
Reggie would like to leave this hospital garden now, thanks.
Unfortunately, his hand is tightly in Luke’s, and even in their current state of ‘pretty powerful’, he doesn’t think he has the power to move Luke when he’s this determinedly stuck in place.
“Luke,” Alex says carefully, tone low as his eyes follow the target of Luke’s glare.
Trevor Wilson was on the phone on the other end of the garden, sighing and running a hand across his face, an anxious tick the three of them were more than used to seeing from Bobby.
“His daughter’s in a hospital bed upstairs, give him some space,” Alex says patiently, watching Luke’s face carefully.
“Yeah, cause he’s alive and lived to have a daughter, we’re seventeen and dead. ” Luke hisses, and Reggie flinches involuntarily from his words. Luke notices immediately, turning to Reggie with wide eyes. “Shit, sorry. That was harsh.”
Reggie nods once, smiling tight. “Let’s just give him space. He knows where we are if he wants to talk, right?”
“Right. Let’s go see what Carlos is doing, get out of here.” Alex suggests as if he isn’t going to disappear and meet Willie at the skatepark.
As they’re about to poof out, Bobby hangs up his phone and turns to leave, spinning perfectly to face the three of them, freezing in his tracks.
“Guess not,” Alex whispers, and they steady themselves for whatever conversation is coming.
“Bobby.” Luke’s voice is cold, and Bobby is silent for a moment longer as he takes them in.
“Jesus. It’s really you. I mean, I saw the Orpheum, and last night, plus Carrie said, but you’re… back.” Bobby breathes out, keeping his safe distance.
“Yeah. And you’re a famous rockstar.” Luke says coldly, and Reggie would defend Bobby if there wasn’t still an anger inside him for who he had become.
“Right. There’s that.” Bobby looks like he wants to run his fingers through his hair, his hand buzzing by his side, but he looks up at the three ghosts. “I’d like to talk. Properly, somewhere else. I’d like to explain myself if you’ll hear it.”
The words sound rehearsed, and Reggie knows that Carrie already told him some of their truth, but there are twenty-five years of life between them to talk about now, and Reggie…
He’s missed Bobby.
“Okay,” Reggie speaks first, catching Bobby’s eyes and seeing the same seventeen-year-old who used to watch Reggie playing the piano with the most caring half-smile. “We’ll talk.”
Bobby nods stiffly, eyes wide like he hadn’t expected their agreement. “Alright. Were, uh, were you guys okay? After last night?”
Alex smiles slightly, seeing the same familiarity that Reggie sees. “We’re fine. Carrie, Flynn and Julie really saved us, B- Trevor.”
Bobby smiles at the mention of his daughter and laughs lightly at the slip of name. “You can call me Bobby. The name change wasn’t really my choice.”
“Then why’d you change it?” Reggie asks before he can doubt himself.
“Uh. Pressure to avoid bad press, mostly. Producers wanted me to be someone new. Not someone unofficially suspected of killing his bandmates. I was eighteen, I didn’t know what else to do. If I could go back-”
“Then we wouldn’t eat hotdogs out of the back of a car, but it is what it is,” Luke says, voice more patient than before when talking to Bobby, and Reggie sees Bobby recognise it too.
Bobby smiles tiredly, looking every second twenty-five years older. “We’ll talk more later, I need to go check on Carrie. Take care.” With that, he leaves the garden, and the three phantoms are quiet for a moment before they turn to face each other.
“That was…”
“Yeah.”
“People thought he killed us?”
“I guess so, Reg.”
“He’s…
“He’s still Bobby.” Luke shrugs, as if that answers it all, and coming from the one with the most anger against their former bandmate, maybe it does.
Alex pauses, taking in Luke’s change, before he steps back. “Yeah. Well, I’m gonna… go…”
Reggie grins, hitting his shoulder. “Go find Willie.”
Alex hits him back, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. “I will.” He disappears, leaving Reggie and Luke in the garden. Less than a second of silence passes before they feel an increasingly familiar pull, and they don't have to even share a look to know to poof to beside Julie, finding themselves in the hallway outside Carrie’s room.
“Hey. I think I want to head home.” She says, leaning against Luke’s shoulder, not caring what anyone else in the hallway sees.
“Of course.” He says, soft voice and eyes only for her, and Reggie holds back his teasing.
“Are Carrie and Nick alright?” Reggie asks instead, and he feels some of his stress disappear when Julie nods.
“Yeah. They’re recovering, and emotionally it’ll be a whole other story, but they’ll be okay. They have people who love them, they have us.”
“Lucky them.” Luke teases, grinning wide, and Julie rolls her eyes fondly as she shoves his face away.
“Shut up.” She responds, sharing a look with Reggie as if to say ’can you believe we put up with him?’, and Reggie grins.
He loves his family.
---
Hours tick by in the hospital room, and Carrie is left in the silent darkness, watching the second hand on the broken clock across from her tick in place. She could go on her phone, see that it’s two in the morning and she should be asleep, but that means seeing the notifications of messages she doesn’t have the energy to think about, let alone answer.
Flynn had stayed as long as they were allowed to, leaving only when Carrie told her to get some rest, their texts continuing for hours until Carrie fell asleep.
Her father had left her upon her request too, despite his protests, but he agreed on the condition that he would be right back in the morning. She appreciated him wanting to be there, but she didn’t need him hovering when there was nothing to be done.
Anything they needed to talk about could be done when she was home.
Nick’s family had left too, Ellie needing to sleep and Nick not wanting either of his dads sleeping on a hospital chair. Nick is asleep now, not a word exchanged between them since Carrie had woken up.
She needed to talk to him, but she was afraid he hated her.
Carrie hadn’t been afraid of someone’s hatred since she was thirteen.
She turns back to the broken clock and its maddening, repetitive ticks, before a sound from Nick’s side of the room catches her attention instead.
His face is turned away from her, but she can see the tension in his shoulders as he turns in his sleep and his whole body tenses up. She can’t get up to check on him, from everything coming out of her arms as well as her broken foot, so she forces herself to stay still and hope he calms down.
He goes quiet after a few minutes, and it takes another few moments for Carrie to realise that it’s because he’s now awake.
“Are you okay?” She whispers to the room, voice still weak.
Nick sighs, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Just…”
“Can’t sleep well?” She asks, and as he finds her eyes in the darkness, she knows that he recognises what she means.
“Something like that.”
The silence doesn’t sit right. “What do you remember?”
Nick sighs but answers her. “I remember the party starting, Caleb recognising all these people. I remember seeing you and Flynn, and not knowing what you were doing there. You talked for a while, and then you talked to me, and I got through him. Then nothing. Julie told me the rest. He possessed you, tried to use you to fight them, then you collapsed, and he’s now… gone. For good.”
So he knows the gist of it all. Carrie nods stiffly, staring at the cast on her foot. “That’s basically it.”
Nick huffs, shifting to face her better. “I don’t get it. You hated Julie and Flynn, hated her band, and I broke up with you. Then you’re working with them to save me, from ghosts I know you didn’t believe in? What changed?”
Carrie can’t meet his eyes, but she knows she owes him an explanation too. Wasn’t that the goal that had started this whole thing?
“I went to see Julie perform at the Orpheum. I had a realisation while she was performing, of how deserving she was, and how much of a bitch I was. Am. Had a breakdown about it, realised I owed you a hundred apologies, then couldn’t find you. I went to see your dads and they told me they were worried after a week of… weirdness, and I asked Julie and Flynn what they knew. I apologised to them properly, and we worked together to try and save you.”
Nick’s eyes are wide from start to finish, but she keeps talking before he can react. “I blamed myself for it all. You getting possessed, getting hurt. I thought that if I had made up with you the night of the Orpheum, you wouldn’t have gone to Julie’s, and you would’ve been safe. But that wouldn’t have been fair to you. You needed time, probably still do, and the best I could do was make sure you were yourself so you could have that.”
Carrie finally looks up at him, hoping he can see the honesty on her face even in the dim lighting. “I’m sorry, Nick. For how I treated you, for being a shitty girlfriend. I shouldn’t have dated you to try and prove something to myself and my family. You were always the best, and you deserved so much better. You do.”
There’s silence when she finishes, and Nick looks taken aback by her words. “That’s… a lot. I can’t say I expected this. Thank you.”
Carrie shrugs. “I’m trying to be better. You don’t need to forgive me, but you needed to hear that.”
“...You don’t want to get back together, do you?”
Why is that what everyone is asking her?
“Oh God no.”
Nick smiles, and that sight alone almost brings Carrie to tears. “Good. How about we try and be friends, maybe? I want to get to know this new Carrie.”
Carrie smiles, a real smile that isn’t for anyone but him. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
Nick grins, and she knows teasing is coming. “I’d love to hear about how you got Flynn to forgive you, as well.”
Carrie rolls her eyes, the warmth of Flynn’s hand in her own still very present. “Shut up.”
---
Nick is out of the hospital the next day, and Carrie is two days later.
Her father is in and out, promising that he’s finishing deals to allow him more time with her, but she reminds herself to believe it when she sees it. Flynn and Julie keep messaging her, but she eventually puts her phone down when her head protests.
She finds herself walking in circles in her house, for once grateful for the ridiculous size of the bottom floor as she gets used to her crutches. On her third loop of kitchen, living room, hallway, bathroom, repeat, she finds herself pausing at the bathroom mirror to give her ribs a break. She leans the crutches against the doorway as she flicks the lights on, squinting as her eyes adjust.
As her reflection comes into view, she takes in her appearance. Her eyes still have bags under them, the tired expression looking back at her with familiar brown eyes far too reminiscent of her father. She hasn’t had a good sleep in weeks, and hasn’t slept in longer than two-hour increments since the Hollywood Ghost Club. Nick’s old lacrosse hoodie sits loosely on her shoulders, stretched out and oversized to cover her recovering frame.
She doesn’t think he’d want it back.
Other than the tired eyes, all she can see is her mother. The long blonde hair, her nose, the curve of her jaw and the tightness of her shoulders all recreate the memories of the woman who walked out of her life two years ago.
Before she can spiral further, remembering Anne Richards and the hole she left in Trevor and Carrie’s life, her phone buzzes from the kitchen counter, and she grabs her crutches with a sigh and makes her way over to it. Natasha’s picture is on the screen, an incoming Facetime call that Carrie accepts.
“Hey, Nat.” She smiles, knowing the other girl will see through it.
It’s not just Natasha, though. On her phone screen are Anna and Nat to one side, and Kayla and Evie filling the rest of the frame, four pairs of eyes concerned as they take her in.
“Carrie! You’re out of the hospital?” Kayla asks first, leaning closer to the camera.
Carrie keeps her smile steady until she processes her words. “Yeah. Wait, how’d you know-”
“Flynn told us,” Anna answers simply, and well. There’s another explanation they’ll want.
“You busy?” Evie asks, and Carrie looks around her empty house.
“Very.” She drawls, her sarcasm as clear as day to the four girls.
Natasha moves, the sound of car keys jingling as Anna grabs her phone. “Cool. We’ll be at yours in five.”
“Five? It’s at least a-”
Anna smiles at Carrie’s worry, filling up the screen as she holds Natasha’s phone. “I’ll make sure she’s going the limit. See you soon, love you!” With that, the call ends, and Carrie lets herself fall onto the couch as gently as she can.
Seven minutes later, a knock on the door is immediately followed by a yell and the unlocked door swinging open, and Carrie gingerly stands up from the couch to face the four girls entering.
“Carrie!” Kayla yells first, running to her before stopping two feet from where she stands. “Jesus. You look like shit.”
Carrie hits her with one of her crutches.
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Then why’d you say it?” Evie chides her, moving past to squeeze Carrie’s hand. “You look better than I feared.”
Natasha sighs, “That’s not much better, Evie.”
“She didn’t tell us anything, and Flynn refused to tell us what happened. I don’t even know why Flynn knew and we didn’t.” Evie responds as she flops down on the couch, raising an eyebrow and turning to Carrie for an explanation.
“Okay, that’s not quite fair because I was unconscious for a day of it, but I’ll explain myself, ‘cause that’s what you want.”
“And the last two weeks of you not hating Flynn and Julie?” Anna asks quickly, and Carrie laughs.
“Yeah, that too.”
They all sit across the couch, all fitting comfortably as they give Carrie whatever space she needs, Kayla leaning in to grab her hand as she fills them in on the past weeks since the Orpheum. She doesn’t tell them everything, leaves out the ghost boys, her father’s history, and the truth of Nick’s disappearance. When she gets to the night of the Hollywood Ghost Club, she falls on her patchy memory to hide the magical truth of her and Nick’s injuries, but speaks with only honestly of her seeking forgiveness and trying to become more than everyone saw her as.
“That’s a lot to deal with on your own, Carrie,” Natasha speaks first when Carrie finishes, eyes sad.
“I haven’t been on my own. Julie and Flynn helped.”
“We would’ve been there too, if you let us.” Kayla’s eyes are wide and Carrie squeezes her hand tighter.
“I didn’t need you all to worry about me too.”
“Was that really it?” Anna’s face is patient, different from her usual energy, and Carrie’s resolve disappears at the concern still there.
“I didn’t want you to leave if you saw me changing,” Carrie admits, the weight on her chest lighter with the words out there, and the expressions on her all soften.
“We’re not going anywhere, Carrie. Dirty Candy isn’t just for on stage, we’ve got each other’s backs every day as well. We can trust each other, and you can trust us. With everything.” Evie says comfortingly, and Carrie holds back tears as she takes in the care from her best friends.
“That includes properly introducing us to Julie and Flynn. I feel like I owe them an apology too.” Anna smiles nervously, and Carrie laughs wetly.
“Yeah, I’ll do that soon. I think you’ll like them.” Their smiles are warm at her, before she claps once with a determined look, wiping her eyes. “Anyway. Rehearsal?”
Natasha raises an eyebrow first, looking at Carrie’s cast then back at her still-teary eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” Carrie gets up and faces her girls. “We have a gig in two days, and I’m not pulling out.”
“You… can’t dance, Carrie.” Kayla looks upset, and it fully dawns on Carrie how this will affect them, too. It’s the truth, but it still hurts to hear it said.
“I know. I’m not. But we need to change the choreography to fill that gap.” Carrie shrugs as if it's fine, because they all know it’s not, but there’s nothing they can do.
---
That night, Carrie finds herself back in front of the mirror, running her fingers through her long hair, mind stuck on her mother.
Anne Richards wasn’t ever really suited to being a mother, if the way she walked out of Carrie’s life without a goodbye was any indication. Carrie’s parents fought frequently before her mother left, days where she would spend any time she could at Julie’s instead, until Rose got sick and Julie got sad and Carrie couldn’t face them. Her mother left the same day she had her final fight with Flynn, the fight that tore apart their friendship and burned everything left behind (not literally, she kept a box that she still hasn’t been able to open).
Nick was the only person she had left after that, her friendship with the Dirty Candy girls still too new to tear down the walls she had learned to build so high.
She worked so hard to maintain this perfect image of herself, smiling wide and pretty for anyone that would pay her attention, but was it worth it if she was only becoming her mother?
Wasn't that all her mother ever tried to do?
“Carrie?” She jumps as her father appears behind her, smiling patiently, “Everything okay?”
“Thinking of Mum.” She doesn’t hide the truth, watching her father take the words in as she turns to face him.
Trevor moves closer, and Carrie recognises the tired eyes. “Anything in particular?”
She doesn’t know how to explain her thoughts to him. “I want to cut my hair.” She says instead.
If Trevor is surprised, he doesn’t show it. “Okay.”
She furrows her eyebrows, expecting protest. “Okay? That’s it? No concern about ‘changing my image’?”
“You can change your image as much as you want. Your choices are all up to you.”
She frowns at her own reflection, before reaching forward for the scissors on the counter, cutting the section in her hand before she can overthink it.
“You- Carrie.” Trevor’s voice is shocked but amused, taking the scissors from her as the cut hair falls to the floor on her good foot. “That’s not the way to achieve that.”
Carrie shrugs, taking in the partial new length in her reflection. “Is that too short?”
Trevor’s smile is tired but fond, and Carrie is starting to love the growing familiarity of the sight. “Too late to decide that now. Let’s fix this up.”
His hands are gentle as they cut her hair, cautious as he lines up and moves around so she doesn’t have to budge, and she wonders if he’s done this before.
Did Sunset Curve cut each other's hair, when they lived in what was now the Molinas’ garage? Did her dad, back when he was Bobby, treat Alex, Luke and Reggie with the same delicacy he’s using to move her chin?
“I looked too much like her,” Carrie says without prompting, as her dad’s hands are brushing the hair off her shoulders.
That seems to startle him slightly, and Carrie watches him in the mirror as he meets her eyes with a sadder smile. “I just see you.”
Carrie wrinkles her nose up at that. “You have to say that. You’re my dad.”
Trevor laughs, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” She mumbles in his embrace, giving in and smiling back at him in the mirror.
There’s no way for them to reach a level of perfect, too much loss and hurt present in their lives, mistakes and choices they regret filling their mind at the best and worst of times, but they have each other amongst this house of so much empty space, and Carrie holds onto that tight.
---
“So what’s up with Carrie and Flynn?” Reggie asks one afternoon as Julie is hanging out with the boys in the garage, instruments out as Luke chews on the end of a pencil frustratedly.
“What do you mean?” Julie asks, taking the pencil away from Luke, grabbing his hand before he can pout.
“Do they like each other?” Reggie leans forward, a curious smile growing.
Julie laughs as Luke begins fiddling with her fingers with a soft smile. “I’m fairly certain they do.”
“So why aren’t they together?”
Alex shrugs from behind the drums. “Cause it’s not always that easy.”
Reggie spins around to him. “You and Willie seem to find it easy now.” He turns to Julie and Luke, already half-lost in their own world, and rolls his eyes. “You two certainly found it easy.”
“There’s a lot more between Flynn and Carrie. Years of friendship that got ruined once, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re both scared of losing it again.” Julie explains, and something like recognition settles on Reggie’s face.
“Right. Fear.” He frowns. “Nope, still not something I associate with Flynn or Carrie.”
“I dunno, Flynn was pretty scared to lose her at the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Alex chimes in quietly, looking up to see Julie’s expression.
“Yeah. I don’t know if they’ve talked about it.”
“They really should. We should.” Luke speaks up, giving up his fidgeting to tangle his fingers properly with Julie’s. “We never got to really talk about what happened, you were so worried about Carrie and Nick.”
“They did pass out, Luke.”
“I know, and I’m very glad they’re okay, but we didn’t talk about you being even more magical than we thought,” Luke explains, and Julie sighs but nods, gesturing them all over to the couch to sit.
Julie breathes out steadily and centres herself. “I don’t know how it happened. Whatever I did to stop him from possessing me, I never meant to. But whatever I did to help save Carrie, it was what I learnt from saving you guys.”
“You used your love for her?” Reggie’s eyes are wide, and Julie loves how amazed he still gets at their new reality.
“It was Flynn’s idea. Save her like I saved you all.”
Alex frowns in thought, but a knock at the garage doors catches his attention quickly. Poofing out immediately, he soon reappears hand-in-hand with Willie, who smiles softly at the band.
“Hi, Willie.” Julie grins, waving with her free hand. None of them are quite sure how Julie can see him too, but it’s a worry for another day.
“Hey. How was rehearsal?” Willie asks, letting Alex lead them to one of the seats as Alex sits in front of their legs, leaning back so Willie can run their hands through his hair.
“Good. Cut a little short.” Luke looks pointedly at Reggie, but there’s no real frustration there.
“We’re talking about Julie’s magic at the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Reggie catches Willie up, and none of them miss the way Alex reaches for Willie’s hands at the name.
Willie nods, taking a moment, before he turns to Julie. “How did you end Caleb?”
“I’m not sure. I grabbed Carrie’s shoulders, thought about how much I love her and wanted her not-possessed, and the boys were behind me. Flynn too. Then this other ghost appeared… Aldrich. He really destroyed Caleb.”
The name seems to ring a bell in Willie, and he tenses up. Alex notices immediately and jumps up to sit beside him instead, taking both his hands.
“Aldrich used to be Caleb’s mentor. He showed him the ways of the afterlife, how to use the power of the soul, and Caleb ditched him to create the HGC. Used what he was taught to take other’s souls.” Willie explains after a quiet moment. “Caleb told me once, but not like that. He framed it as if Aldrich was the evil one, and Caleb was protecting us from him.”
“He seemed good. He saved us, and promised us the souls Caleb had would be saved.” Julie tries to reassure, and it only seems to partially work as Willie grips onto Alex’s hands.
“He said Caleb had been using the power of souls to hide from him. Did Julie break that?” Reggie says, looking at Julie.
“Maybe. Julie broke his curse on us, maybe by doing it to him inside Carrie, that broke all of those curses he had on others.” Luke raises his eyebrows, also looking at Julie questioningly.
“That… makes sense. If Carrie was trying to stop him too, it could have all come together to hurt him.” Alex notes with a nod.
“That doesn’t tell me how I did it.” Julie points out.
Reggie frowns. “No. No, it doesn’t.”
Willie speaks after a moment of quiet. “Maybe there isn’t a reason. Maybe it was just meant to happen. You were already breaking any rule I had heard of in the afterlife, why not more?”
“I like that. Destiny.” Reggie grins, and everyone else in the room follows.
“I’d like to think it was my mum. Looking down, seeing how good we are for each other, wanting to protect us.” Julie says quietly, and Luke’s hand tightens in her’s.
“Yeah. We are good for each other.” Luke murmurs, and Julie smiles at him, with no reason to look away.
“So were we gonna keep rehearsing?” Reggie says with a clap, and the other band members move after a second to resume where they had left off, Willie taking a position to watch them.
---
Carrie doesn’t remember the name of the cafe she’s performing at, as she smiles at the crowd and waits for their music cue. She’s vaguely aware of the Dirty Candy girls behind her, the microphone solid under her fingers.
Her mind’s a blur with the bright stage lights and loud cheers making her head pound, trying to go through the changed choreography in her mind.
The girls are all in their usual colours, singlets from their pep rally performance and new skirts Evie and Kayla had made, wigs pinned tight. Carrie can feel the weight of a braid at the back of her pink hair, put there by Kayla ten minutes prior so she could do something with her buzzing fingers.
The opening bars of their song finally kick in, and Carrie’s mind is only on the performance. She knows her lyrics, and the moves of the girls behind her, and she keeps her confident smirk up as the eyes are on her.
“Lights up when they’re calling my name, gonna keep a big smile, never more than a game.”
It’s easy to fall into the persona of her performances, despite everything else going on. Offstage, it feels like the floor has been removed from beneath her feet as she recovers, but being back on stage performing again feels like coming home. She can’t perform like she wishes, the heavy cast on her foot a reminder of what she’s still missing, but now she gets to catch Julie and Flynn in the crowd smiling at her and meet their eyes without anything hurting.
The Dirty Candy song they’re performing is older, written in the anger of her and Nick’s breakup and Julie’s growing successes, but it’s a comfort to perform it now after so much shared hurt between them. There are other songs, written for a piano no one but her has used in years, anger and pain in the lyrics and melody. Those ones are just for her for now, not the sound of Dirty Candy, but they’re no less her work.
The cheers are loud as they finish, and Carrie barely makes it off the stage before Flynn’s reached her, wrapping their arms around her waist and holding her carefully to not graze her injuries.
“You were great,” Flynn mumbles into Carrie’s shoulder, lips soft against her bare shoulder, and Carrie has to hold back the shiver that runs up her spine at the feeling.
“I can’t even dance,” Carrie says under her breath, and Flynn’s arms tighten the slightest around her.
Carrie feels Flynn shake her head. “You’re still amazing.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” It's all she can say in response before the other girls are behind her, and she pulls back to see them too, still turning to Flynn. “Where’s Julie?”
As if on cue, the announcer calls for Julie and the Phantoms, and Carrie is the first person to start cheering for them. Natasha gives her an amused side-eye before she joins in, and Carrie can feel Flynn laughing gently as she leans back on her.
---
They’re all at Carrie’s place that night; Dirty Candy, Julie and Flynn relaxing across the couch and rugs on the floor.
Carrie is vaguely listening to Anna, Natasha and Julie talk on the floor as Flynn’s quick fingers take off her wig. She hadn’t bothered to protest when Flynn offered, sitting in front of her patiently with her injured leg stretched out. The others are talking about each other’s bands’ music style now, Julie and Natasha talking music history none of the others are quite as passionate about.
“I love our music, of course I do, but there’s a part of me that’d love to do something different one day. Test the waters to see if we could.” Natasha is saying, showing Julie something on her phone as Evie and Kayla enter the room.
“What, like a genre switch?” Evie asks, placing the tray of drinks on the table.
“I mean, yeah. Bubblegum pop originated in pop-rock, after all.” Natasha shrugs, lifting her arm as Anna leans in next to her.
“Imagine Dirty Candy doing pop-punk. Could be fun.” Anna adds, and Carrie smiles watching the two.
She's happy for them, even if their getting together took much longer than the other three girls ever predicted.
“What genre would you try, Julie?” Kayla asks, and Julie pauses as she thinks it over.
The answer isn’t surprising to Flynn and Carrie. “Rock. Probably 90’s rock, more so than earlier.”
Carrie snorts, just quiet enough for only Flynn to hear. “Shock horror.”
“Imagine Jules with Sunset Curve’s style,” Flynn whispers to Carrie.
“Imagine Luke’s reaction to it,” Carrie whispers back, and both have to muffle their laughter at the idea.
Flynn finally untangles the hairpins from Carrie’s wig, and as she pulls it off, Carrie’s short hair comes tumbling out of the pink locks. Flynn goes quiet, and Carrie realises she hadn’t shown them her shorter hair yet.
“You cut your hair,” Flynn says quietly, hands hovering.
“I did. Needed a change.” Carrie doesn’t want to raise her voice and break the moment, turning to face Flynn as best she can.
Flynn smiles softly as they meet Carrie’s eyes, voice low. “I like it. It looks really good.”
Carrie can’t control the soft flush she feels over her cheeks. “Thank you, Flynn.”
It's then that the two of them realise the rest of the room has gone quiet, and at the same time they turn to the rest of the girls in the room. Carrie sees Kayla put her phone away, and Julie is looking knowingly between the two of them.
“Oh, they’re back. Hi again.” Natasha teases, and Carrie throws a cushion at her.
“Nice hair.” Julie smiles genuinely, and Carrie has missed having her in her life.
“Thank you, Julie.” She says pointedly, before she notices Julie’s smirk and raised eyebrows, and wishes she had another cushion to throw at her as well.
Despite her eye roll to the room, she knows she’s the happiest she’s been in a while. Her father is something of a constant figure in her life once more, her childhood best friends are back in her life, her other best friends love her on and off stage, Nick doesn’t hate her, and she feels something akin to happiness in her life that isn’t just based on the praise her performances earn. She’s finding something like love for maybe the first time, or maybe rediscovering what she could have had years too early, and Flynn’s fingers dancing along the back of her neck feel like hope.