Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They stared at her in the mirror, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact. Because that would make them her. And they weren’t her.

They were ‘little one’ to Ayda and ‘little fucker’ to almost everyone else.

Except themself.

To themself they were wrong. They took up too much space in the wrong places. They were an imposter in someone else’s body, a thief who had stolen joy from the girl they could have been, who had stolen joy from the parents who had wanted a daughter and the love from a childhood sweetheart who had wanted a girlfriend.

Skin that had been red and bleeding and inflamed for years until a few weeks ago was now healed and scarred, only because Ayda had hidden their bandages. Apparently the way they were binding surviving was ‘unsafe’ and Ayda had said they weren’t allowed to bind again until their chest had healed. But that had meant weeks of baggy t-shirts and too many layers for the temperature of Leviathan and too much worrying about posture and too much staying inside and too many times avoiding mirrors and

too long

spent

hating.

Hating anyone who glanced twice, who called them a ‘sweet little girl’. Hating that they could now breathe and stand up without wincing at the pain in their back. Hating that they could take a deep breath when a panic attack started to take over their brain. Hating themself for not being able to bind, for being stupid enough to tell Ayda. Deep down they knew she would take their bandages away, and that they wouldn’t want to betray her by buying more and they told her anyway. They hated that they knew they needed to take the time to heal and hated more than ever that they’d stolen this body from the girl they could have been.

A short rap on the door broke them from their reverie spiral of self-hatred. They put on the baggiest hoodie they could find and opened the door to ‘concerned Ayda’. Concerned Ayda was an Ayda with a mug of herbal tea held out in front of her, and a blanket-cape ready to be deposited on Garthy’s shoulders and an offer for stargazing on the roof that night on the top of her tongue.

‘Has your..?’, she began.

‘Yes.’

‘And have you..?’

‘No.’

‘I will operate under the assumption that you did indeed know what my questions were as you normally do, but I will ask you again please let me finish my questions so I can be sure of what your answers mean.’

The blanket was swept around their shoulders as they were pulled into a crush-hug. A hug that made everyone involved feel loved, and protected, and alive.

‘I won’t say I’m sorry because I’m not. I did the right thing and I stand by it but I hate what I made you feel these past few weeks.’

A fiery tear crept down her face and fell onto Garthy’s back, sliding off the hoodie (all their clothes were fire-resistant to avoid having to buy new clothes any time they made physical contact with Ayda).

‘Thank you. I…’, their breath hitched and a small sob crept out of their throat. They took a moment to compose themself before continuing, ‘It, well, it was hard. And it did get a bit bad, but nowhere near as bad as it has before, so considering everything, I’m pretty happy.’

A teary smile crept onto their face and was matched by one on Ayda’s over their shoulder. And ever one to be blunt and interrupt a moment, Ayda announced, ‘I have developed a spell.’

Garthy huffed a wry smile as they pulled away from the hug, part most all of them loving Ayda for her tactlessness, it saved them time and the worry of misunderstandings when communicating, and more often than not lead to her teaching them random and fascinating new things.

They waited. They didn’t need to prompt her, if it was something she actually wanted to share, she would carry on in her own time. Besides, dramatic pauses always made announcements better, regardless of the dramatic (or not) nature of the announcement itself.

‘I have named it: Garthy’s Terrific Transition. I have been researching how to help you and in the absence of an existing solution I created one myself. Once casted, it will rely on your direction so it can have the exact required effect and will…..’

Her voice faded into the background as they processed what she had just said. A spell, for me. Just for me. Cast a spell and my skin would fit me. I would take up the right amount of space, I could breathe and smile, I could wear what I want, I could go outside, I could look at myself in the mirror and I could learn to love myself.

Shit.

I don’t remember the last time I loved myself.

‘Garthy? You have been quiet for quite a while and I am not entirely sure you have heard me explaining the spell. As I was saying, any physical changes will deal damage to you and as a result cause pain in order to change your body so I would suggest using the numb spell and having healing potions on hand. You will also be left with scars, which I can’t exactly see you being bothered by based on what I know about you but there’s no point in not warning you anyway. Because of all of this, I would suggest only small or necessary physical changes. You will likely need a few days to recover but after that you would be you, and I could see you how you want to be seen and I can think of no higher honour.’

Fiery tears now flowed freely down her cheeks, the love she has for Garthy burning bright.

They talked more that night as they lay together on the rooftop, herbal teas in hand, gazing towards the stars together as Garthy told her everything. It felt right to honour everything that body had given them, and show it some love for the first time, before saying goodbye.

This body wouldn’t see hate for themself like that one did, it would be treasured and honoured. It wouldn’t stand for lies or hate from or between others. It would be decorated with tattoos that showed their love, and scars that showed their willingness to fight to defend everything they loved. They would admire the ones that were a gift from Ayda to become themself, and keep the old scars that showed the fight it took to get to this point, but there would be no more as a result of that fight.

That was the promise Garthy made that night, a promise made to the sky and the stars and the person they loved most.

And to themself.

Chapter Text

They looked into the mirror and into those eyes that were as dark as that starry night sky, flecked with gold stars, echoing the vastness and beauty of the gift and promise that were given and made that night.

It had been years, decades, since the last time Garthy O’Brien didn’t love everything about themself. Their mind, their body, the way they look and are perceived, their hopes and dreams, their life, the way they love, the haven they’ve made for all in the most unlikely of places. They wouldn’t change a thing.

When Ayda regenerated and it was Garthy’s turn to raise her, when she was old enough they made sure that she ‘remembered’ what she had done for them, and how much it meant. They made sure she knew what kind of a person she had been and the importance she held in their life.

She had saved their life, without a doubt saved their life, simply by making them feel important, and loved, and understood - or given the tools to teach. So the least they could do was the same for her, so she never ended up with scars from a fight with her mind to survive.

The scars that littered their arms and wrists from those days were neither covered nor highlighted by the intricate linework tattoos. They were just there, included in the art that they had covered this gift from Ayda with, forming a not-to-be-forgotten part of the story that was painted on their skin.

They looked in the mirror and finally let the dreams of the girl they could have been go.

And they looked in the mirror at those eyes as deep as a promise.

And they looked in the mirror and breathed a deep breath.

And they looked in the mirror and smiled a smile as deep as their soul would let them.

And they let go.

And they laughed a laugh of pure joy and love.