#huma reunion hug I wrote on my phone cos Why Not

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

The core four returned to the Isle once more: to promote the VK Day with a nice presentation, they said. (The Auradon adults smiled and nodded and let them go; Uma scoffed at her scrying surface.)

Of course, there would be nothing like a presentation, no way in hell would Isle kids deem to pay attention to that. No.

There would be an Evil Ball – one Uma planned to attend.

It'd be easy: They open the Barrier, Uma slides back in, just like last time. Back to her crew, and the Rotten Four would be none the wiser.

So she swam to the Isle from the other way the Auradon laid, for the first time in months. Her chest hurt, as if she struggled to breathe, which, of course, was impossible. She was not under the Barrier yet.

There – it flickered. Gold lightning ran down the shimmering Barrier and Uma reached out to it, sticking her nails into the scar. Then the other hand, ignoring the clammy sensation on her fingertips. (A moment, and she will be without her magic again, trapped – one moment, and she will be with her crew, where she belongs.)

She propels herself forward.

The Barrier slides over her body and locks her in and Uma has no time to think about it, swimming fast towards the surface. Towards Revenge.

Bartholomew meets her halfway there, and she laughs, playfully hitting the creature on the side and grabbing his fin. She's by her ship now, and she's feeling giddy, giddier than magic ever made her.

She gives Bartholomew one last pet and pulls herself up on board by the ladder that her crew usually leaves down for her. (They left it down all this time – Uma's chest hurts again.)

She sits on the railing, letting the faint sun of the Isle shine on her skin, and just taking in the sight. The Revenge, gloomy and glistening with fairy lights, the docs with the crew's motto all over.

She doesn't have time to reminisce any longer:

Disbelieving „Uma?!“ sounds through the air, followed by a thud of heavy object falling down. The next moment, she's envelope in a warm hug from Gil, who must have been keeping watch.

„Uma!“ he laughs as he spins her around the deck, and she laughs too.

„Harry!“ Gil calls out for most of the port to hear, „Everyone! Uma is back!“

It's only lucky the Rotten Four should be rather busy at the moment – Uma finds she can't care for that any longer.

Her crew surrounds her, each of them welcoming her, some of them bowing their heads slightly, until Harry pushes them all away and they scatter, laughing.

„Uma,“ he says, turning his hook in his hands, dragging the tip over his palm, „Uma.“

There is a slight waver in his voice, a question he doesn't dare to ask; Uma smiles and answers anyway:

„That's my name,“ her voice cracks a bit at the phrase, „Harry.“

She nods and he hugs her too, like the world would end if he wouldn't: a rock falls of her chest as he holds her close and mutters her name over and over into her hair.

„My love, you're back,“ he whispers so quietly it hurts, and Uma doesn't answer, only hugging him tighter too.

It takes time to plan an Evil Ball, doesn't it?

They have time.