“Rowan, love, we have been telling you to slow down lately. It’s not good for you to keep going like this.” Estelle studied her youngest daughter’s face with more than a hint of anxiety as her wife Rachel held the younger woman’s hand.

“I know you believe this, and with everything that’s happened this year it’s no wonder you’re a little mixed up. But there are ways to treat this without-“

“Stop, I know it sounds crazy. I know it does. But it’s true, and I do need help but not that kind of help.”

Rowan made a face, suddenly feeling like a sullen child as she looked at her parents’ concerned faces. Of course what she’d just told them was completely insane. In their position she’d probably want to have her committed or at least strongly encourage her to seek professional help immediately. Outer space plant delusions were probably not dangerous, but she could definitely see why hearing it would scare people who loved her. She hadn’t wanted to spring her transformation on them quite as suddenly as she had her sisters, but her mothers’ reactions were more than enough proof that there was no easing someone into this knowledge. On some level she’d always been aware of that, maybe she’d wanted them to think she was a little crazy so they wouldn’t be disappointed in almost a year of lies by omission, starting with that first encounter with a youma.

“OK, this is going to be weird and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but. Tempesti power, make-up!”

As she pulled out her henshin pen she saw the worry on her parents’ faces increase, no doubt believing that she’d produced a prop that fed into the delusions they were so thoroughly convinced had taken hold of her. Tempesti tried not to look at them as she felt the senshi replace the civilian, very conscious of the fact that she was probably terrifying them more than when they just thought she was insane. She studied the coffee table with abnormal interest as her henshin came to an end, some part of her absolutely certain that to meet their gaze would permanently destroy something about who she was to them. Not their daughter, just a liar. A weird, magical space liar.

“Madre de Dios. Rowan what is this? Is this a Halloween joke? Did your friends at the art school help you with this?”

Estelle began looking around the room, trying to figure out exactly how her twenty-three year old had managed to pull off such an elaborate prank. “Are your sisters in here? Laurel! Willow! Come out, now!”

“Your sisters really aren’t here? No one helped you pull this off?” Rachel’s voice came out soft and measured despite the obvious tension building within her as she fought herself for something rational to explain what she and her wife had just seen.

“ No, they’re not. It’s just me. It’s not a joke. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have told you. I just didn’t know how and now you-” A sob cut off the young woman’s voice before she could continue, shame burning her neck and ears as she contemplated all the thousands of ways in which they could and would be disappointed in her.

“Oh, Rowan, no.” Two pairs of arms pulled her into a hug slightly too tight with worry. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure out how to deal with it. But if you think anything about this will make us love you any less, well just get that out of your head. Start from the beginning, and then we can talk about your plants.”