The dead fly should have glowed bright like her blanket. It had felt like she had put all of her power into it, more than she'd gathered up earlier in her bedroom, and more than she'd gathered after Finn had collapsed. But while a small bit was enough to make the blanket feel like it was overflowing with power, the dead bug felt like an empty water bottle with just enough moisture to fog up the plastic. It didn't even really look blue to her sight. It was sorta tinted blue, maybe.
Sarah took another bite of her meatloaf, now that her fork wasn't gathering up strange magical powers from the air around her. She chewed it slowly, examining the dead fly. Even though it was barely lit up, it shook out its legs and easily flipped itself upright. The fly walked around the table, forming little figure eights and other patterns as she finished her late meal. It kept walking in its pattern even when Sarah's head drooped and she dropped her fork with a clatter on the plate.
Covering a little yawn with her elbow, Sarah got up and took her plate to the washer. She grabbed the little soap packet from beneath the sink, tossing it in among the silverware before she shut the door. A couple of buttons later and she could hear it hum as it got going. She could empty it out in the morning. She grabbed a little spray bottle from under the sink and tore a few sheets of paper towels, and went to wipe down the table. As she sprayed, the fly took off into the air with a buzz. It hovered a foot or two over the table as she finished cleaning up.
She couldn't quite get the dead thing to fly like a real bug. Instead of the vaguely aimless swoops that she would have normally expected of a fly, it flew in straight lines and deliberate turns. Her fly was a fly with purpose. At least, it would have a purpose if Sarah had any idea what the point of a fly under her control could be.
A blanket was pretty cool. Just being able to tidy itself up was awesome - Sarah was already planning to fill up her other blankets and sheets so that she wouldn't need to make her bed anymore. The chair was kinda silly, but being able to roll around on its own was fine. It would probably take some time though, waiting for the mists in her room to turn back to white again.
But a fly just seemed useless.
Oh well, thought Sarah. If nothing else, it seemed like it could hold a ton of light. She'd keep it around to shove extra into it. Keeping a dead fly around seemed a bit creepy, but it was better than knocking herself out again.
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Her room was still strongly tinted yellow. She'd need to be more careful, some of the mist in the hall outside her room was yellowish too. Shutting the door behind her, Sarah sat down on her bed and found herself laying down. She had slept all day, and she had intended to spend more time messing around with the blue fog, but she could also feel how heavy her eyes were getting.
"Uggh," groaned Sarah. She was already laying down but she'd left her light on. But before she could swing her legs off the bed to start sitting back up, the buzzing of the fly intensified. It had landed on the switch and somehow shoved down hard enough to turn her bedroom lights off. In the dark, she could see the bare little glint of blue within the fly where it still sat on the switch. So maybe a fly wasn't totally useless. Could an ordinary fly flip a switch, if it wanted to? Not for the first time, Sarah found herself regretting how little attention she paid in biology class.
Sarah watched the soft blue spark drift around the dark room like her own personal light show. She banged it into the walls a few times, but it didn't seem to take any damage or lose what little light it had. After just a minute or two, Sarah reached out in the dark and opened the top drawer of her desk. Knowing where it was by touch, Sarah was able to guide the fly into the drawer where it could sit, hopefully unbothered. She let her head settle into her pillow as she slid the drawer shut.
She smiled, looking at the little bit of blue glint of the fly where it sat in the dark. If she focused, she could make out its wings, legs, and eyes. Her hospital blanket glowed more brightly at the foot of her bed, and she'd been able to see the blue mist infusing each fiber in the blanket, but the fly was beautiful. Every detail seemed plain to her as it sat motionless, poised.
Suddenly, as her mind started to drift, Sarah opened her eyes and lifted her head with a jerk. Her chair wasn't blue! It wasn't glowing at all, even though she'd put some light into it. It had been brighter than the fly, and it had rolled around on its own, but it was as dim now as anything else in her room. She tried to look hard, to see if there was some tiny bit she could make out, but it was just a dark amorphous blob, only slightly visible from the tiny bits of normal light that crept in through her blinds and curtain. Nothing filled it at all, even though it had been there before. Sarah closed her eyes again; the chair was just one more thing to mess with when she had a chance.
Sarah considered getting up so she could actually get into her bed, instead of simply laying on top of the comforter. Even as she considered the steps necessary, her mind began to slow. The hospital blanket pulled itself over her as she relaxed, surrendering finally to sleep.