fic: Another Life (ficuary)

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: Another Life
Chapters: 1/1
Author:csi_sanders1129
Genre: Family.
Ratings: K+
Word Count: 1786
Pairings/Characters: Binx, Max Dennison, Dani Dennison.
Synopsis: In which Binx wakes up human again and doesn’t quite know what to do.
Comments: Written for Ficuary 2021, Prompt: Cleaning. First try at Hocus Pocus fic, though this thing has been languishing in an in progress folder for literally a decade. Comments and kudos would be awesome. Enjoy!

Thackery Binx sits on the cold, concrete steps that lead up to the locked front door of the Dennison home, awaiting the return of anyone who might be willing to let him inside. It's flurrying, and windy in the early December morning and the thin, white linen shirt and the short breeches he'd worn the day he'd followed his sister to the witches house in the woods, well, they aren't doing much to keep him warm. His feet are dirty and bare, as he hadn't been wearing any boots that day and his feet are nearly frozen now. As a cat, he's sure, he was never really cold. The fur kept him warm, and being so small, it was easy enough to find places to stay that would keep him from freezing to death – not that death would take him, even then.

Now, though, he has nothing but these thin clothes and no place to go.

Shivering, he pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, willing someone, anyone to come home soon so he can at least warm up before he has to figure out what he's supposed to do now that he's... back.

He'd thought he was done, that he could finally rest after 300 years of living a cursed life, but somehow he is once again, quite alarmingly, alive.

He's not quite sure how much time has gone by when Max and Dani finally do appear at the end of the street, only that the sun is starting to set and he can't feel his nose or his ears or his toes and that he's not even really that cold anymore.

"Binx?" It's Max who says it, though they both look equally shocked to see him there as they come up the walk. "What are you doing here?"

"I wish I knew," he answers, clumsily getting to his numb feet just in time to accept the hug that Dani tackles him with. "I woke up in the cemetery this morning and I… I didn't know where else to go."

"You're really cold," she says, just as Max's hand lands on his shoulder in friendly greeting.

The other boy frowns when he feels the chill, too, "Yeah, you're freezing, man," he agrees, now fumbling in his pocket for his house keys. "Come on, let's get you inside and warmed up."

He follows without complaint and starts to thaw the second the door closes behind them.

"Here," Max says, turning the shower on for him, adjusting the knobs this way and that. "Take as long as you want. If it's too hot, turn this one right, if it's too cold, this one goes left. Soap is on the side, use the grey bottle, not the pink one unless you want to smell like cherry blossoms. Use the black one for your hair, if you want. I, uh, I'll go find you some warmer clothes, okay?"

"Alright," he agrees, hoping he can remember all of that, with the array of bottles that line the edge of the shower.

Max leaves him alone, shuts the door behind him as steam starts to fill the small room, fogging up the mirror over the sink until he can't see his reflection anymore. He strips out of his clothes, so out of place in this new world, and climbs into the shower, reveling in the warmth of the water on his skin.

The water around his feet swirls with dirt but he hasn't bathed in three centuries and the lukewarm tubs of heated water they'd had back then pale in comparison to this experience. He does figure out the soaps, though he does think that the cherry blossom smells somewhat better than the musky nothingness of the grey bottle he uses. He undoes the tie that keeps his hair back and washes that, as well, and he can't recall it ever feeling so clean. He stays under the spray for a little while, even after all the soap is gone, and by then he's regained feeling in all of the things that had gone numb outside. After some trial and error, he finally figures out how to turn off the water and he finds the towel Max left for him on the edge of the sink.

A knock comes at the door, then, like Max was waiting for the water to turn off, the door cracks open and a hand reaches in, brandishing a pile of clothes at him. "Here, these should keep you warm."

"Thanks," he says and takes them. He dries off quickly and dresses, pulling on several layers of clothing that ends with thick, fuzzy pants and a thick, fuzzy shirt that even has a hood and thick fuzzy socks. His hair, still damp, he pulls back again, with one of the many colorful, stretchy bands that litter the edges of the sink, this one is purple.

"Warmer now?" Max asks.

"Yes, that is a wonderful invention," he comments, trailing after Max as he moves through the house. Dani meets them in the kitchen, and presses a steaming mug of something into his hands. He takes a sip and finds the liquid is rich and sweet and warms him from the inside out.

"It's hot chocolate," she explains, sitting next to him at the table. They watch as Max works at the stove, heating up the contents of a can in a pot for a few minutes before he doles it into bowls for the three of them. "And that's chicken noodle soup."

Some aspects of the dish are familiar – there's a flavorful broth, bits of roast chicken, and soft vegetables. Then there are what he imagines are the aforementioned noodles, which did not exist the last time he had soup. It is, like the heated chocolate drink, quite warming and delicious.

"Thank you," he says, eyes moving between both of the siblings. And then, a little more solemnly, "I don't know what to do."

"That's obvious, buddy," Max says, without a moment of hesitation. "You stay with us."

He has his doubts as to how well that might work out. Even as a cat, when people would occasionally try to coax him into their homes in the long months between his Halloween vigils at the Sanderson's accursed cottage, it always seemed to be a hard sell. Someone in the house would be sympathetic, but another would not be, and the latter would always win out, shooing him away from the promise of shelter. He's reasonably sure Max and Dani will have an even harder time convincing their parents to keep a stray 300 year old teenage boy than they would if he were still a stray 300 year old cat.

"Yeah," Dani agrees with her brother, shooting him an enthusiastic smile. "We can help you figure out what happened and show you all the neat things that have changed since you were last human. C'mon, say you'll stay?"

He wants to. He wants to stay so much. If he's being given this second chance at a life, there's no one else he'd want to spend it with. But…

Max seems to understand why he's hesitant to agree. "Don't worry," he assures him. "We can talk our parents into it. Even if we can't, we'll figure something out, okay?"

"Okay," he agrees.

The two siblings spend a while answering his questions, offering explanations for things around the house that he would not have had knowledge of in his time spent as a cat. After a while, they retreat to the living room and settle comfortably beneath the blanket thrown over the back of the couch, Binx sandwiched between Max and Dani as they flip through channels and continue educating him on their 20th century details. That's where they still are when Mr. and Mrs. Dennison get home from work.

"Mom, Dad," Max greets them, "This is our friend Binx. He needs to stay with us for a while," is the entirety of his very vague explanation of the strange boy in their home, but surprisingly that seems to suffice. Mr. and Mrs. Dennison offer warm greetings and seem overwhelmingly thrilled their son has made another friend here in Salem. They assure Max his friend can stay as long as he needs (though they probably do not mean for as long as they children intend). Still, Max runs with the idea - "Great, thanks," he says, and then, "We'll be up in my room."

So that's where they go. He follows Max upstairs, Dani trailing after them. Max's room has been cleaned up since the witches attack on Halloween night, the tower repaired.

The evening passes by. Binx tells them stories about his life before the witches, about the village and his family and Emily. Max and Dani help craft a careful narrative they can tell their parents should any questions come up about their houseguest, making up convincing details that can explain the odd voids in his history.

"Dani, honey," Mrs. Dennison appears in the doorway sometime later, "Time for bed."

"Do I have to?" she asks, clearly wanting to stay up with Binx and Max. Her mother gives her a look and she relents, bids them both goodnight and leaves them be.

"Goodnight, boys. Don't stay up too late," Mrs. Dennison says before she walks away.

It's still early, by Max's standards, he's sure, but he's had a very taxing day – what with coming back to life and catching up on the finer points of three centuries worth of development – and so not long after, he's yawning and losing the fight to stay awake.

Max drags him to the bathroom again, presents him with a brand new toothbrush and walks him through the basic concepts of dental hygiene. He returns to Max's room with an alarmingly minty taste in his mouth.

"You can take the bed," Max prompts upon his own return, grabbing a spare pillow and blanket from the closet, spreading the blanket out on the floor nearby.

"Nonsense," Binx counters. Max's room is bigger than the entirety of the house he'd grown up in and sharing a bed is certainly something he's done before. He scoots to one side – revels in the comfortable mattress (not stuffed with prickly straw) and the thick blankets and soft pillows. Apparently unwilling to refuse the offer, Max joins him, settles in beside him and flips off the lamp on the bedside table (a far cry from the candlelight Binx had worked by in his old life).

"I'm glad you're back," Max tells him. "I know it's not what you wanted, but however it happened, I'm glad you're with us again."

"Me, too," he agrees.