Slowly, the Dreamchasers, no longer the Lost trio, started heading back home. Jade with her Pancake. Mordechai with Natalia. All but one had enough reason to return. Penelope James found herself on edge and uneasy with the idea of going back. She knew the moment she was back in Edenridge, grief would wash over her, as it always did. She was still in pain at Blue Hill but to her surprise, it was taking a positive turn. It made her feel she would survive and find a reason outside of Charlie to keep going. To not give up.

Mitena had taken her on another walk, showing her a hidden secret, off-the-beaten-path gem. Blue Hill, like Edenridge, was full of obscure yet beautiful finds. At first, Poppy was confused because it was a stamping ground, a barren patch in the center of the wood. Tena had explained that before her people were pushed out of Edenridge that witches would hold counsel here and dance around the campfire. That wasn’t what made this a remarkable site though. Mitena asked if Poppy minded waiting for a little bit, and of course, Poppy didn’t mind at all. So they waited and talked about little things like their jobs, their hobbies, and what they care most about.

In time, the sun set and a magical phenomena happened around them. Magic appeared around them like clockwork. Blue Ghost Fireflies came out of the forest and shimmered around them, with bluish-greenish color, glowing, not flashing like their counterparts. It was ethereal to say the least. There Tena told her about the legend that these were the ghosts the witches wanted to give peace, during that horrible period that revolved around ‘the Judge’ where so many lives were lost.

Poppy was lucky because it seemed this would be likely the last day they’d come out until next summer. These fireflies specifically only visit for maybe a month, less than even, but when they do… you understand why the people you meet are meant to be cherished. Love and magic have a great deal in common. They both tie into the soul and heart, connecting them with practice, enriching the self and delighting one’s heart. Poppy couldn’t help but feel nostalgia fill up in her tiny frame, as she imagined those she lost, yet kept dear to her.

Charlie, Maxine, Danny…

For a moment, she felt like she could see their apparitions, like Danny staring up at the moon, book in hand, but she knew this was just her heart wanting to see those she lost, missing them terribly. He looked at her and smiled, the light reflecting on him so magically. She could see it, just by how he looked at her, how proud he was. How proud he was of all them. How proud he was to see them fighting to live. How grateful he was they were still trying.

The night was beautiful. Little Danny soaked in the night, the stars and the silence. Danny Boaz was at peace. She could see how happy he was in this surreal, ethereal place. She could see there were no thoughts beyond the present — his moment with her. That smile, his smile, he wore so well. The energy that surrounded him, positive and warm. The glint in his eyes, hopeful and content. Bringing her attention to Tena, she watched the strange and unusual woman pray to the surrounding spirits and send good tidings. All of this because Rhonda Decker knew what she and her friends needed.

“You can feel them can’t you?” Tena poised as she waved her arms in rhythmic prayer. “The people you’ve lost along the path? They’re here. We can’t always see them. We can’t always feel them but they’re there. They’re there.” It seemed that the young singer had become some form of spirit guide for those that had traveled down from Edenridge. She offered them something they each seemed to desperately need and want. Something it seemed that only she could give them. Perhaps she was giving to them all what Charlie had stolen?

Through the flicker of blue flame, Mitena’s doe eyes watched Poppy with a smile as she embraced this side of her which she doubted the tiny girl knew even existed before her trip to the reservation. She no longer seemed fragile, the brittleness of the glass case she had boxed herself into had now been reinforced by her spirit and by her will. Would it last when she ventured back to her own world? Tena did wonder. Yet she also knew that the difference between then and now was that if ever Poppy or any of Charlie’s soul pieces needed her, she would be there, something that she wasn’t before and regretted deeply.

“No one on the reservation knows this place exists. It’s a Silverheel secret. Only members of my family are welcome here and you’ve been family for a very long time.”

Giving a small smile in appreciation, Poppy didn’t say anything in return. Not right away. She gracefully laid a hand out and watched a single firefly rest in the palm of her hand. Memories, too strong to be forgotten. Memories that not even time could combat. To keep them alive, she had to continue to remember. Their lives ended unceremoniously but she still loved them. She would always love them. No matter the words left unsaid and how things ended. Penelope was grateful, immensely grateful, for the memories they shared. Even the bad ones.

Poppy watched as the firefly left her hand and closed her hand, grasping at the air as Charlie was back in the forefront of her mind. “Do you think… I can be happy?” She didn’t know what happiness entailed but she also knew she had a long journey ahead of her and she also knew that meant more pain and more heartbreak. “I try so hard,” she glanced over to Tena, her voice as low as a whisper, “I try so hard to stand but I keep getting hit with shit. I don’t know why,” she tried to gather her thoughts, her bittersweet emotions spilling out with every word. “I don’t know why this is my life, or why others have to go through so much just to be happy.” She frowned, not knowing if she should be angry, sad, numb, or happy. Not knowing how to feel because she was so tired of feeling. “I just want to be happy,” she muttered, yearning for something new and something good. Something that wouldn’t turn around and hurt her. Something she wouldn’t lose in the end that made her feel a little less lonely. Something that she could call her own.

Tena looked deep at the girl with the flower for a name. She was so deep in the sadness that had been her entire life, she must feel like she was drowning. As Mitena prepared to open her mouth to state her piece, she saw the rustling in the trees behind Penelope and a smile began to envelope her lips. Taking a step forward, the indigenous beauty brushed a single strand of hair away from Poppy’s pale face and looked into her big green eyes. “There she stood, pale, glowing, wrapped in transcendent light. There she stood, pulling me out of the water again. The crunching weight of the darkest depths fading as I flew into the air and into her arms. We painted over the silence with silence. I was happy. She was happy. It wouldn’t last the night but we would be happy again. I would do anything for her to be happy again.”

Reaching out as she echoed her brother's words in his novel, wrapping her fingers around Poppy’s shoulders and gently turning her around one eighty to view the rumblings in the wood and the emergence of Resi from the thick trees. “I think you can be happy.” Tena whispered, gently pressing a soft kiss behind Penelope’s ear. “Go be happy.”

Stunned at the immediate recognition of who would say, or write those words, Poppy felt a couple of warm tears trail down her pale, smooth skin. It wasn’t a stream. She didn’t find it in her to give into the rain. Instead it was a mist blurring her vision but keeping the storm at bay. Wiping her under eyes with her fingers, those words echoed in her mind, like all the memories of him did. If only he had the courage to say those words to her, to tell her that she made him happy. Faith could only carry her so far and in the end, he gave into the dark, leaving her behind. He was her everything but what they had, she knew, wasn’t healthy. She recognized that.

With every passing quote she heard, every passing secret and moments he shared with others, she knew he could never love her the way she deserved until he loved himself. And she too needed to learn to love herself. They didn’t help each other, not in the way lovers should. They depended on one another. And when they were apart? It killed them, slowly and painfully. That wasn’t what love was supposed to be like. Was it?

Taking a couple of deep breaths, she rested her hands in front of her, holding them together as she buried the sadness to see who was coming to meet them. When she saw Forrest, Tena and Charlie’s cousin, a subtle shift in how she held herself could be seen. Her shoulders relaxed, her smile wasn’t as small, and her body seemed less heavy. There was a glint in her eyes. “Hi, Resi,” she greeted, before looking back at Tena in surprise, having not expected to see him again this soon, “You invited him?”

“No.” Tena smiled as she softly placed her hands on Poppy’s lower back and with a touch of force, pushed the ghost girl forward. “You did.” Her voice whispered lowly into the Edenite’s ear before taking a step back towards her bags. “Cousin! What brings you out here?” She feigned surprise as she watched her older relative make his way into the firefly grove.

“Foraging!” Forrest raised a small clear bag from behind his back and aimed it at the two girls. “I have this idea for a stuffed mushroom snack which would be great for someone in need of a quick brunch!” Bending down, Resi plucked another fungus from the ground before turning his attention to the two beautiful girls in the clearing. “You two watching the fireflies?”

Tena glanced at her cousin before shifting her look to the outsider. “We were but actually I need to be going. Apparently some guy wants me to head out as a supporting act for a two week tour of Canada. Sounds kind of badass. You mind taking care of Penelope for a few hours while I go work out the details. Thanks Resi, you're the best.” The songstress did not even wait for the wild haired Indian boy's response as she tossed him the keys from her back pocket and took off with her bags into the woods.

“What the hell just happened?”

“I actually… don’t know,” Poppy admitted, realizing she once again wasn’t wearing Charlie‘s jacket and finally felt the chill of the evening through her skin, sending a subtle shiver throughout her petite body. Holding herself as she watched Mitena leave her, completely abandoning her for a business thing, Poppy tried to connect the dots of why her new friend would do half the things she did within the past minute or so. Like pushing her closer to Forrest or suggesting this was her idea, that she was the one inviting him over to the Silverheel ranch. Truth be told, Poppy was coming up empty. Unfortunately for Tena, the girl with the flower name was clueless and wouldn’t be able to read any romantic gestures unless it hit her in the face. It wasn’t like she was looking for it anyways. Poppy was still rewiring her brain to look outside of her perception, her perception being everything Charlie.

Brushing off the sudden moment of randomness, no point in overthinking it, Poppy glanced Resi over before asking, “How do you know those mushrooms are safe?” He had a little curl bouncing in front of his face begging to be touched. Distracted by the impulse she stepped closer and twirled the strand around her finger, “You have such cute hair,” she complimented. It took her a second or so before she realized that these actions were only meant for people like Jade and Decky. Her hand retreated behind her back. “Sorry… I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s ok. People dig the hair.” Resi normally wouldn’t allow anyone to touch the wild mane that he had carefully maintained over the years. Hair to a Native American is sacred, it is a connection to family, tribe and creation itself. It is a display of individuality while being respectful for that which came before. For anyone to touch it to some could be considered blasphemous but for Resi, with Poppy, he didn’t mind, in fact, he kind of liked it. “As for the mushrooms, well if we ignore the fact that I’ve lived in this place my entire life, there are a few telltale signs. Like if it’s slimy or has dark spots, do not touch those ones, they’re bad bad bad.”

Forrest looked around the clearing. He was surprised that Mitena had brought the ghost girl here. This was where the family gathered and watched his auntie Dakota, Tena’s mother, leave this plain and join the Creator. The family camped under the stars and watched her fall asleep, knowing she would never wake up again. It was the best way to go, in his opinion. He wondered if his cousin had brought the offcomer here in some attempt to connect her to those that she had lost? More specifically, Charlie.

“We should get out of here. It’s getting dark and we don’t want the skinwalkers to find you.”

“And we both know they’d find me, I’m hard to miss. White as heck. They can use me in lighthouses to guide ships at night,” Poppy chuckled, poking fun at herself. She was gradually getting color, ever since she started going outside more, but not enough to make much of a difference. She was always a pale girl, though since the incident, her paleness took more of a sickly manner. She was getting better though. Little by little, Penelope was healing.

Before she decided to follow Resi, she turned back to the fireflies, taking in the spirits one last time. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together. Placing her lips against them, she quietly prayed and made a wish. When she was done, she returned to the present, her reality, and spun on her heels, her dress twirling as she did so, “So since you’re here, does that mean you’re not busy? With work, I mean…” she looked at him doe-eyed and hopeful. “…are you free?”

“That’s the joy of being self employed, I set my own schedule. Technically I’m working by gathering ingredients…” Forrest waved his bag of mushrooms again. “…But for you? I’m absolutely free.” He stuffed the clear baggy into his rucksack and reached out, taking Poppy’s hand into his without a second thought.

Resi remembered the day when Mitena came to him with the news of what happened to her brother, Charlie. The two men had never met, never exchanged a word and didn’t have any kind of relationship. Forrest didn’t know Charlie at all but he still felt the pain of his loss through Tena. People would look at his cousin and see someone completely put together, spiritual, intelligent, creative and driven to succeed. No one ever saw her quiet moments outside of himself, Jadyn and Illara. No one ever saw the Tena that cried herself to sleep. No one ever saw the Tena that wouldn’t leave her room for a month. It wasn’t until she got a package in the post, a book, a collection of thoughts and feelings and a story written by her big brother that Mitena finally left her room.

Forrest could recall every passage of that book because it became his cousin's bible. Amongst its sea of words, was the story of a girl; a pale girl with green eyes from the wrong side of town. Having met Poppy a few times now, Resi could tell, no he could feel, why Charlie loved her. Watching her twirl in the dragonfly-kissed coming night filled the world and his heart with joy as pure as fresh white snow. “Is there anything you’d like to do?”

“Well…” Poppy gleamed up at Resi as they walked through the shelter of trees, down the well traveled dirt path, to their next destination. Her overflowing grief and the eternal sadness that encompassed her entire being grew quiet. It was still, frozen in time, at least for a moment. Not gone, it never would be. This sensation that used to be so overwhelming, to the point she wished she had novocaine to numb the pain, felt… distant. At bay. It was surreal what this place was doing to her. For so long, she couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t function. For so long, she laid in her pain, unable to get away from it. She laid there crippled by depression and anxiety. Crippled by self doubt and self loathing. Crippled by her shortcomings and desire to die. For so long, she thought of one thing and one thing only. And that thing, that person, was the Raven perched persistently above her heart’s door. The Raven she desired. The Raven that wanted her to let go and find purpose. Let go and be happy. Let go and live. The Raven she loved.

Right now, in the company of Forrest, all these emotions, her monsters who’ve taken control of her since that dreadful day, fell silent. This allowed Penelope to focus on the boy beside her and him alone. They walked away from the dancing lights. The further they got from the stamping ground, the darker their surroundings became. The wood was dark but she wasn’t alone. She never was, was she? “I’ve been walking a lot today. So I was thinking we could watch a movie? I don’t care where, I just think it would be a nice way to end this emotional day. A story, some treats, and… good company.”

Wait. Hold up. Wait a minute.

Was she asking him to watch a movie? Now this was the moral test of Resi’s self. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to Penelope. Very much so in fact. But he also couldn’t deny that he had some idea of the baggage that came with her. He had read Charlie’s book, he had seen into his cousin's heart. Yet it only intrigued him more. There were two girls in that book but Resi only had eyes for one.

“Well.” Ruffling the back of his wild head of hair, the young cook looked down at the tiny girl in his hands and smiled. “We don’t have a movie theater here so I guess we can head back to the Silverheel and put something on there. I still have a room in the barn.” Forrest was lucky that Jadyn hadn’t decided to demolish the place or turn it into some crazy sex dungeon. “But I can’t be out too late, I have to be gone for my little sister.”

“Oh you have a sister?” Penelope raised an eyebrow, wondering when she would get to meet her. “Understood! The movie doesn’t have to be long,” she earnestly agreed on his terms, absentmindedly interlocking her fingers with his. “What’s your sister like? Is she your only sibling?” When he mentioned he had a sister, her mind immediately thought of Maxine and all her great qualities. Max died too soon when she had such a promising future ahead of her. So many touched souls Max left behind and then her best friend, Indie, did what she could to keep her memory alive. To this day Indie always did what she could to keep Max alive.

“Yeah. Illara.” Resi gripped Poppy’s hand right as they emerged from the woods and out into the open field. “She’s eighteen so not really little but Illy has always been really shy. She helps me out on the truck though she mostly just preps my ingredients.” The reservation dog took a deep breath, inhaling all the smells and taking in the spirit of the world around him. Illara was his heart. She was the reason that he fought so hard not to fall into the same darkness that had swallowed most of their family whole. The Silverheel sisters, his cousin Charlie, Tena’s father. There seemed to be some curse against the lot of them. Forrest would be damned if there was a curse that he wasn’t going to go out kicking and screaming. “You have any siblings?”

I did. “Yes!” Poppy chirped, looking away from him and straight ahead as she did so. “Maxine. She’s a couple years older than me.” With her free hand, she reached for the teardrop necklace she rarely takes off that dangled from her neck. The necklace that held some of her sister’s ashes. “She’s incredibly witty, a bulldozer when it comes to getting shit done, and she cares, so deeply about Edenridge.”

Fiddling with her necklace, she glanced back at Resi, reminiscing the times when her family was whole, “She would say if you take care of the little things, the big things would take care of themselves. It would all just fall into place.” She breathed, before continuing, “She is so wise for her age, it’s incredible really.” Poppy smiled to herself, imagining her sister and how life would be if she were still around. The ‘What Ifs’ always plaguing her mind. “She is someone who fiercely preaches about the beauty of Edenridge, and that it’s the community that makes it. My town tends to… live in the past, with their ghosts and all the bad. Every corner you turn, a curse. A bad omen. A death story. When there’s so much dark, it’s hard to see the light. But she… didn’t struggle with any of that. I don’t know how she could be so strong. She was a beacon for many and…” Poppy’s voice drifted as her hand stopped playing with her necklace. “…I miss her.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that Poppy was dancing between past and present tense, to see that her sister Maxine was no longer of this world and had joined with the great spirit. Even still, the sparkle in those luscious green eyes was enough for Forrest to see that whoever Maxine James was, she was a good person, just like Poppy. No one is talked about with the same feeling if they weren’t a blessing on the world. “She’s always with you. Those that are gone live in our hearts and minds or at least that’s what I like to believe.” The young chef glanced up at the distant lights of the Silverheel ranch and smiled. “What was her favorite movie? That’s what we’ll watch tonight, and she can watch it with us.”

“… okay, well,” Poppy cleared her throat, caught off guard with the question. She hadn’t thought about Max’s favorite things in such a long time. She was so used to thinking of the promising future that Max would’ve had instead of thinking of the girl she was, who had her own unique quirks that set her apart from other girls. “My sister,” Penelope returned her free hand to her side, before chuckling to herself, “Loved crime fiction. Action. Thriller. So if I could think of something she would like to watch… probably Dirty Harry. Honestly, it’s dad’s fault that we like these types of films. He used to watch them all the time with his friends.”

There was a brief pause.

In that moment, Penelope prepared herself, getting ready to imitate Dirty Harry’s mannerisms and Clint Eastwood’s quiet, unforgettable and compelling tone. Quoting the most famous scene in the movie, she made a handgun with her free hand and went in full character, glancing at Resi as she spoke. While her voice wasn’t as deep as Clint’s, she was still able to project authority, strength, and wisdom like he does, “I know what you’re thinking. ‘Did he fire six shots or only five?’ Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track of myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question: ‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do ya, punk?”

Forrest felt almost compelled to say something cheesy, like being in Poppy’s presence alone made him feel lucky. Which itself wasn’t really a line as much as the truth. There was something about this ghost girl that filled him with joy; something warm and pleasant and dare he say happy. He was entranced by her imitation of Clint’s most iconic character and couldn’t help but just watch her, the way she smiled and her hair danced in the light wind.

It was clear as the night sky above them that Poppy loved her sister just as much as Resi loved Illara. Siblings were a strange thing, some could be as close as close could be, others distant with life and more that led completely separate lives. Both Forrest and Penelope loved their siblings deeply and had done their entire lives, people like Mitena, never got the chance. It was a sad way of the world that even those that deserved everything could go their entire lives with nothing.

“I’m really glad you’re staying another night, Poppy.”

Caught a little off guard, Penelope looked up at Forrest, not expecting the sudden words of affection. She didn’t know why but she was drawn to him. Something about him and his presence, she wanted to get close to. He warmed her on the inside as well as made her feel anxious and worried, all at once. She was at peace and felt safe, yet she felt so antsy just by being near him. An increasing urge that she couldn’t quite understand. Two vastly different sensations that she didn’t want to stop feeling. She liked this feeling, so much so that her face began to blush ever so slightly.

“Me too.”

As they walked down the dirt path, hand in hand, getting further and further away from the fireflies, Poppy found herself absentmindedly staring up at the moon.

She was bright and beautiful tonight. Even when she wasn’t whole, she was full of light, awe-inspiring and poetically captivating. The moon was a luminous guide, whether she was aware of it or not and her cold, arid orb took Poppy’s breath away.

That big moon over their heads was creating a glow in Poppy’s big green eyes and as she stared up at it, Forrest stared at her. He was completely and utterly in her thrall. Even her pale, alabaster skin seemed to be glowing under the shine of the sky spirits light. As they approached the end of the path and the entrance onto the Silverheel ranch he once called home, Resi couldn’t help but think to himself that there was something completely and utterly special about the offcomer, Poppy James.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her and he didn’t want to.

Almost like clockwork for nearly a decade, Douglas “Glass” Chang had gone to the Blue Hill Reservation for one reason and one reason only and that was to have some sort of lunch, dinner, or meal with Adora Diamondheart. It didn’t matter what was going on in Douglas’ life nor what responsibilities to the club he had. Everyone from those in the Howling Commandos Crew to the Table understood that for a few hours (sometimes a whole day), the one called he would be out of reach.

This wasn’t just a tradition that meant the universe to him. Adora had been the one constant in his life whose last name wasn’t Chang or didn’t have the Fallen Angels patch. It goes all the way back to when he was a strapping younger, cockier, and generally full of himself version of Douglas Chang. Before he ever had the name Glass and before he embraced it, he was just Douglas Chang, but to Adora, he was always Dougie. He had always felt something for the native woman. Ever since he was younger, but when she lost her sister and he lost the closest thing he had to an older brother, a lot changed. For both of them.

Where Adora closed herself off, especially to any and all advances Douglas had always wanted to make but never found the right time. Either he was too involved in whatever shit he had at the time, be it with Phoebe always causing trouble or him losing his way from the path that Sensei Ramsay tried to set him on, it never seemed like the right time. Sure he did make passes at her, but it never landed because she could see what he later himself realized and that was how immature Douglas was. In a lot of ways, he was what took Leone Booker years to realize for himself and something that Scar was still trying to improve upon.

But despite their mutual losses, over the years, the platonic love and the friendship they had before that never faded. Just about every week (unless they were going through shit too severe to let a lunch or supper date happen), for ten years, the two of them had always made time.

As he pulled up into the front entrance of Blue Hill, parking his blue Kawasaki KZ1000, he kicked the kickstand up, keeping a seated position on his bike. He took off the helmet, setting it on the center part of the front of the bike where the speedometer was. Douglas was wearing just a simple assortment of jeans and a white shirt with his Fallen Angels patch on his black leather jacket.

When he was ready, Douglas walked through the front gates. For years now, he had become well acquainted with just about everyone, especially the Lighthorsemen and Lighthorsewomen who often stood guard at the front entrance. He was essentially an honorary native at this point and had proven himself to be a friend.

He didn’t have to walk far from the front gates to where Adora’s home was and yet, every time he came here, which was basically every week (unless something prevented him from doing so), it was always as beautiful as it had been the first night he spent here.

He gave the front door a quick couple of knocks, leaning lightly against one of the support beams.

It wasn’t long before the door to the house in question opened and the ]woman who owned it stepped out, sporting a plain white tank top, a pair of blue denim shorts and white Converse sneakers. Her visitor had just enough time to stand up straight and open his arms before she jumped straight into them, wrapping her own around his taller frame. Her giggles filled the air as the man lifted her up and spun her around, stopping only when they were both starting to get dizzy.

Once Adora had safely reached the ground, she took a few steps back to cross her arms in front of her chest, examine her guest’s choice in outfit and jokingly judge him for it as it was customary during all of their meetings. “Denim jeans, boots and a black leather jacket in nearly 90-degree summer weather?” the Native woman teased the Angel with a mischievous grin on her face. “Who hurt you, Dougie?”

Cocking his head slightly to the left, Douglas gave his longtime friend and never-off, always-on crush a smile. “When you’re riding at 80 miles per hour and the wind is blowing in your face, on your arms, it’s really only like 70 degrees.” As much as he knew that was a cop out, this was how they always started things. It didn’t matter how hot it was outside nor how cold it was, they did this dance all of the time. He’d spin her around by grabbing her firm hips until just before they felt the vertigo kick in and she’d make a jab at his outfit.

Douglas had the tendency of being a rebel to Mother Nature. “For the record though--” In an act of showing just how pointless poking fun his outfit was (and in the process, he was simultaneously playing along), he took off his jacket one arm at a time, showing his well-defined biceps and forearms. When he was finished, he swung it over his left shoulder, almost smirking, knowing exactly what this little display was something Adora enjoyed. “This tank is the only thing really protecting my body from the high winds when I’m skillfully driving twenty miles over the speed limit.” And he said that with pride.

Adora rolled her eyes, shook her head and allowed her grin to morph into a smirk as she watched her guest make a spectacle out of removing his Fallen Angels leather jacket. Anyone with two eyes could see that Douglas Chang was an attractive man. He was tall, with a jawline chiseled to the gods, a smile that could melt Antarctica, and toned muscles all over his body that evidenced hours and dedication to martial arts and the gym. And it was no secret that the Native woman took any and all opportunities she had available to indulge in devouring Douglas’ handsome features with her sharp eyes. She’d never tell him that to his face, of course, even if he did know-- his big ego didn’t need any more feeding.

“Only twenty miles over? You’re growing soft in your old age,” she teased again, effortlessly falling into the light-hearted banter that was a staple of their friendship. “Well, lucky for you, there aren’t any high winds inside the house to hurt your delicate skin: only a nice 70 degree weather to keep us cool and comfortable while we eat the fabulous lunch I’ve cooked for us.”

“Delicate skin?” Douglas laughed almost instinctively. He did not have delicate skin. If anything, it was just sensitive to some things. “Only thing delicate around here is you when I lift you up.” He cocked a smirk. She knew she was light as a feather, or at least she was for someone who could wipe the floor with someone like Mr. Clean with little to no problem. Lifting the tiny Adora Diamondheart was a piece of cake in comparison.

Of course, he joked…for the most part. He always joked with her. She was the only person other than Phoebe that got to see this side of him. “Well what are we still waiting out here for?” He moved forward towards the door, jerking his head towards the inside of the house, urging her to follow. “I’m starving!”

“Since when do you ask for permission to come into my house?” Adora snapped back with a smirk of her own, hands on her hips. “You’re a big boy. Go on in. The door’s unlocked, and you have a key anyway. Nobody’s stopping you.”

"Big boy or not, my mom would never forgive me if I left my manners on the front porch with you." Douglas chuckled as he walked in Adora's home.

It was true what she said. He never did need anyone's permission to go into her house, yet every single time, he waited for her consent. It's just how he was brought up. His mother Corinne was always so adamant about manners, which was almost hypocritical because she would be the first one to forget them in the heat of the moment. But if there was one thing Douglas never questioned was what she said. That woman, no matter how she felt about his father (and he’s heard a few choice words over the years), she loved her children. That much couldn’t be ignored. And if he simply dropped almost everything she ever drilled into his mind, well he’d never hear the end of it.

As he walked in, he didn’t realize until a few steps in that he was holding Adora's hand. But at the same time, it wasn’t anything he hadn't done before. Whenever he’d come over and that was pretty frequently, they had always rided the line. There was always something between them and this was, honestly, an extension of the deep bond that was between them.

Now in the kitchen, the aroma of what Adora was cooking hit him and while his senses were processing all of the intricate smells he was picking up on, his stomach had the same idea. While Adora was still next to him, part of her side against his, his stomach started to growl, some smells felt familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Whatever you got brewing, think it’s safe to say my stomach approves.”

“It’s a special surprise that I know you’ll go crazy about,” the brunette mysteriously answered, offering Douglas an impish grin as they crossed the kitchen and arrived at the dining room. “Take a seat. I’ll bring everything right out.”

While her guest did as he was told, Adora began to deliver to the table an array of Douglas’ favorite dishes that she’d cooked for their lunch date: shrimp fried rice, summer rolls with peanut dipping sauce, smashed cucumber salad and crab rangoons. A chilled bottle of blueberry Warhorse Mead filled their glasses-- a perfect way to cool down during summer. And once the woman took a seat, the best friend duo wasted no time in filling up their plates and diving in.

In between bites of the classic (and not so classic) Chinese food, sips of mead and catching up with the latest happenings in their lives, Adora and Douglas had consumed a majority of the feast she had prepared. Lethargy was quick to claim them after their meal, and they moved the conversation from the dining table to the cozy sectional couch in the living room. The TV was soon turned on and tuned into Yellowstone (Sons of Anarchy being its precursor), following their long-standing tradition of watching a few episodes of the show after eating. As usual, the hostess had taken her shoes off and made a comfortable pillow out of her guest’s lap, while he had fallen back into the habit of running his fingers through her silky chocolate locks. Rather than allow herself to succumb into the arms of a nap like her body wanted her to, Adora began to mentally prepare herself for the conversation that was coming next. Now that they had eaten, caught up and were comfortable, it was time to finally get to the real reason why she had asked Douglas to meet her today.

“Dougie?” Adora tentatively called out to her friend to get his attention, shifting around in his lap so that she would be lying face up, looking at him. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Douglas had almost spaced out during the episode of Yellowstone they were watching, almost for a few minutes. His mind was drifting about how content he felt. He was thinking about how content he felt just relaxing with Adora. For years he had been doing the same thing with her like it was clockwork. He’d come over to her house, eat some meal, and watch a few hours of something that she put on. Some days it was a show they’ve both seen and adored or a movie that maybe he lost a bet to and was forced to watch (or she lost the bet and had to endure the mindless action flicks he consumed like they were candy). Whatever the case was, it was always like this: her using his lap as her pillow and either she fell asleep or he did, but it was one of the few times he could find an inner peace, no matter how temporary it was.

But something changed. When she propped up, even before she spoke, Douglas caught onto the noticeable shift in her demeanor. She went from being relaxed to almost sounding serious. “This sounds serious. Everything okay, Adora?” He asked, giving her all of his attention. He was curious and also proceeded with a certain amount of caution. Their peace time on the couch usually went without a hitch and he wasn’t the type who particularly enjoyed surprises, especially when it came from one of his best friends.

Rather than responding right away, the brunette inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. “You know how I said that last Tuesday I had a really deep conversation with Mordechai about living without regrets and taking chances on things even if they seem scary at first?” she began, shifting her eyes to her hands as she nervously began to fidget with chipping off the nail polish out of her fingernails.

Douglas recalled that conversation almost immediately. It was a rare day because for as long as he has known Adora, she didn’t seem to particularly run away from those kinds of conversations, especially when it came to her boys. Be it little Jonie, Creed, or Mordechai, all three of them who were also close to his heart as well, she always seemed a lot more emotional when they were in the conversation. So when she called on Tuesday, he could tell immediately. She had the same tone in her voice she did then as she did now and forced him to take it somewhat more seriously, giving her not only his attention but his investment. “Yeah, I remember. Why? What’s on your mind, Adora?”

The sun-kissed woman rose from her position in Glass' lap and stood up to face him. This was a topic she needed to address with the importance and respect it deserved. After all, the consequences of this conversation could, without exaggeration, change the course of the rest of her life. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but the conversation Tuesday made me certain it's what I want to do…” she trailed off, Inhaling and exhaling another deep breath before finally dropping the bomb. “Douglas, if you still want to, I'd like to give you and I a chance."

“Well that was unexpected,” Douglas mused aloud. His mouth wasn’t hanging down like some cartoon caricature of himself, but he most certainly didn’t expect her to say that. For the 30-year old man, how he was feeling both as she was bluntly stating what she just said and the aftermath of that bombshell of a statement left him in a mix of elation, disbelief, and, as he sat there, digesting it, uncertainty.

Uncertainty because for the longest time, Douglas Chang had pined after the woman standing in front of him. This radiant beauty whose soul was as natural to him as her tribe to his country was. He has been head over heels in infatuation with Adora Diamondheart since he was a teenager. Since he was a stupid, reckless, selfish little prick of a kid. Someone who only initially saw her as someone that was so incredibly hot and so down to earth that he wanted to make her his and that was a feeling that never truly went away.

Uncertainty had always been the fork in their road because when he wanted her and when he wanted to be with her, tragedy befell their tight-knit family. She lost her sister and Douglas lost his uncle while at the same time, Creed and Jokes lost their everything. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment, Adora. Or maybe you do.” His surprise was in his voice and on his face, but he laughed, and she laughed with him. Douglas would occasionally float the idea of them as an item and always had for a decade. He never pushed too far because he understood that for a while, she was seldom ready to be in that place. The place of mental stability. The place of being able to put love into another.

Douglas stood up, looking at Adora. He was still in disbelief. “Are you sure about this?” He had to ask because, as much as he was ready, he needed to have the reassurance to know that he wasn’t somehow unknowingly pushing her into this. Douglas had been ready for five years. Five years since he fixed what was wrong with him. Five years that took a soul-searching journey that opened him up to a lot of ugly truths about himself. For so long, he actually blamed himself for what happened with his parents. Like their marriage failing was something he did. Maybe that’s why he was such a bitter, angry teenager that not even Sensei Ramsay could get through. But in those five years, he understood it wasn’t anyone’s fault. His father refused to turn away Megan and his mother, Corinne, refused to take him back after Jason was born. At the end of the day, their family survived and carried on. When he made peace with that, Douglas thought about what he wanted for his own life. He had been an angel for six years at that point but he wanted more for himself. Adora always represented that something more, but she never gave him the green light that she was ready. If this was it, then maybe, just maybe, he could finally start writing his own story and build a home with a strong foundation, one immune to twitches in the foundation and fire proof to that fiery Brady temper that flowed through his veins as well.

The Native woman nodded. “I’m sure,” she reassured him, taking one of his hands and holding it with both of her own. “Before now, I didn’t feel like getting into a relationship with anyone would be a good idea. I had so much stuff going on after Tama’s death and then Mama’s that it would’ve been unfair to burden anyone else with all of my baggage. I wanted to make sure that, when I did decide I was ready to open up my heart, I could offer my partner the best version of myself. It took a lot longer than either of us would’ve imagined, but I think I’m finally at a place where I feel safe and mature enough to take some steps in the direction of my own happiness… Starting with the one person that I know I want to spend my life with and could never imagine it without: and that’s you.”

Douglas squeezed her hand back, giving Adora a small smile. “Don’t I know it. We both had our own stuff to work through and find ourselves again. Or in my case, find myself for the first time.” He gave a small chuckle. “You remember how I was when we first met. I was no better than Leone is now. Too cocky for my own good. Too abrasive for anyone’s comfort. And how you always used to describe me: too sour like the lemon I was back then.” Like everyone who had matured and become better people than who they were a decade ago, just the thought of who he was and how Adora had called him out on it made him cringe. “I would have put me in my place too. And I did. It took a lot of failed attempts, but eventually I became someone who wasn’t lost in his own darkness or drowning in his own failures.”

He brought his free hand to gently cup her face, looking down into her enchanting eyes. “Hancock has a belief he loves to preach about how everyone and their love story is like an engine. You never know how to put one together until you learn the basics. Until you have the tools to tear it apart and put it back together; and when you’re done, you realize there’s one piece left but you can’t find it anywhere. A piece that you can’t seem to find anywhere. No matter how hard you look, how long you look for, and how far you go to find it, you can’t ever place it. It’s not until you’ve exhausted every option that it clicks. It’s been with you the whole time, but you didn’t have the perspective to see it when it was hiding in plain sight.” His heart was going at a rapid pace right now because he had his missing piece right here. Her face was soft under the touch of his calloused hands. As his lips quivered, he leaned close, touching his forehead with her and whispered in a low, breathy tone, “You’re my missing piece. You’ve always been my missing piece, Adora Diamondheart.”

Overcome with emotion at Douglas’ words, tears of joy as bright as the precious stone she was named after were quick to fill Adora’s brown eyes. After the death of her sister when she was seventeen years old, life as she knew it came to a crashing halt. Tama Kraeter was like a mother to her, and the grief of her loss had sent the younger sister down a destructive path of self-hatred and self-sabotage. For a long time, she had lived under the idea that she should’ve been the one to die; that she was nothing but a scared whore with so much baggage and nothing to offer that no man would ever want her, and that she didn’t deserve to be happy. It had taken years of self-reflection and therapy of sorts with the elders in her tribe to come to the realization that her previous choices didn’t define her, that she had the world to offer, that she did deserve to be happy, and that the best way to honor her sister’s memory was to live without fear.

And through it all, Douglas had been there for her. From the moment they had met when they were teenagers, he had stood by her side through it all. He never judged her. He never saw her as something less than. He never made her feel bad about her choices. He knew who she was, what she did and where she came from, and it never changed the way he was with her. All Douglas ever did was see Adora for who she really was: the kind, loving, intelligent, protective and caring woman she hadn’t even seen in herself. For that and many other reasons, Adora loved him. He had always been the missing piece of her own life.

Letting out a soft laugh, Adora felt Douglas’ thumbs wipe away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks. “So does that mean yes, orrrrr…” She trailed off with a playful smile, knowing exactly what Douglas’ answer was but wanting to hear it from him.

Instead of answering her, Douglas kissed her. He felt comfortable and certain enough that he could do it without disrespecting her, which was the one thing he never wanted to do. All this time he had these feelings for her - that overwhelming affection for her - Douglas always respected her boundaries. When he’d ask her out and she said no, he respected it. When he’d ask her out for coffee and she said she was busy, he respected it and didn’t push it past that. He always let it go until a few months or a year passed and brought it up again. Always in the past, he was the one to bring it up but she changed that tradition. So he was confident in pressing his lips against hers, feeling that she was all in just as he had been all in for nearly five years to the day, there weren’t any regrets.

And when the short act of kissing her was done, he pulled away, breaking it, and smiled. “That’s an absolutely.”

If she believed in a God, Wednesday would think she worked in mysterious ways.

As she entered into the Sinclair house, the Chief of Surgery couldn’t help but reminisce about bygone days when she was a girl, long before she was adopted into the Davies family and still lived in the Sunken House, just off of Lyon Park. Wednesday had spent years denying that she remembered that part of her life but the truth of the matter was that she clung to those memories like they were a rope she was hanging from, it was those memories that shaped her, made her and defined her.

From the small, overgrown garden where her birth parents Leaf and Plum, as they called themselves, grew their hallucinogens, smoked their weed and shot up their heroin, a young Wednesday could just about see Hanging Hill and Scott Street in the distance. She could see the first row of houses from behind and often wondered what it would be like to live in such castles. Whenever she told her Daddy that she wanted to be a princess in a White House, he would laugh and tell her that she belonged to Mother Earth. He would tell her that people like them ate the people that lived in those houses, metaphorically speaking, and they did so because they were happy and the people behind the white picket fences were not.

Wednesday did wonder in hindsight if her father thought about that when he forced the drugs into his wife’s system and watched her choke on her own vomit. She pondered whether he thought he was happy when he mummified her and sealed her inside of the bathroom wall. The Good Doctor was curious whether he felt that way when he left her alone in the house and never came back.

To most, a great tragedy but for Wednesday it was a blessing. For thirty nine days, the seven year old was alone in the Sunken house and she fought for her life. She rummaged for food, she maintained what she could to stay clean and through sheer force of willpower, she survived and persevered until help would arrive. She was self reliant and needed to be as she entered the orphanage. Wednesday would not die in the walls like her mother, she would scratch and claw and she would prove to everyone that happiness was not starving. She would not starve.

She was fourteen when she was finally adopted into the Davies family and moved into one of the white castles she had dreamt of as a girl. When she explored her new home on Scott Street, Wednesday made her way to the front side of the five houses that haunted her days and from one emerged a boy, a handsome boy with a big grin and flanked by three guards who definitely were on the wrong side of the tracks. That was the first time that Wednesday met Hector and his brothers and it was that day that she finally made it inside her dream house, the house in which she now stood nearly thirty years later.

Wednesday was in her forties now, with two beautiful girls she worshipped and a husband whom she loved dearly. She had entrenched herself with the princes and princesses of Scott Street, becoming family to them all in one way or another. With her job, she had become their gatekeeper between life and death. Their lives were in her hands every time she picked up a scalpel and she knew that her father was wrong; she wasn’t born to eat their happiness.

Dropping her bag onto the marble floors with a large thump, Wednesday outstretched her arms. “YOOHOOOOOO! Your favourite auntie is hereeee. Someone bring me a beer!”

“Auntie!” Caroline called out from the kitchen. The youngest Sinclair was in the midst of baking goodies galore, which included brownies with a little extra something. It was her first time making it but after doing a little research, it wasn’t that hard at all. She was prepping a few other things, aiming to bake until she absolutely couldn’t bake anymore. She had plenty of time before she had to change into her bathing suit, which meant she’d keep going until there was no counter space. Plus, with her efforts, they would only need to worry about ordering pizza and wings later.

Niles, who had finished hanging the streamers throughout the living room, didn't greet his aunt. Instead he tried to casually leave through the back entrance. He didn’t want to be interrogated about Caitlin or about the fact that he needed to disappear for a little bit before the party actually started. He had time and his sisters were totally okay with him going on a coffee break. Totally cool with it. This is why before his aunt Wednesday could notice his presence, he needed to skedaddle.

When he reached the backdoor, he was met with the insufferable Sinclair. Autumn. She had been outside deciding what lighting setting to put the pool and jacuzzi on. Not only that but she was multitasking and making a charcuterie board using the patio table as counter space, under Carrie’s request. That girl wanted to make a s'mores bar too. Autumn had to admit it. Carrie knew how to tire her siblings out when it came to throwing a party. Still, it was fun and she loved being together with them. “Going on your coffee date?” Autumn asked, talking loud enough so Wednesday could hear her. She was immediately met with a glare. Typical Niles’ behaviour.

“Coming Auntie!” Carrie announced, still rummaging throughout the kitchen (the one clearly busy with work). She didn’t like making people wait, especially not those she considers family. Even more so if they are authority figures, which Wednesday has been kind of like a mother to her, her sister, and her brother. She was there when their family needed someone the most. After Noella died, Auntie Wednesday always made sure to make time for them. Carrie loved her so much.

“A coffee date, Nilios and you didn’t tell your favourite Auntie? How dare?” Wednesday feigned being offended as she slid into the conversation with pure ease. The surgeon had always loved the Sinclairs as if they were her own. Niles, Carrie and Autumn were as loved as Dallas and Adelaide were or Allison, Lexie, Roxanne and Tati. They were woven into her very being even if they were not blood related and she would do anything for Hector's kids and she had done anything, and everything, for them. “Is she hot? She better be because I won’t accept anything less if she’s going to be the reason you don’t take that internship at the hospital with me.” Wednesdays patted the top of her nephew’s head with a giggle. He was just like Hector, so easy to rile up.

When Caroline arrived with an ice cold beer from the fridge, with a cute apron on too, Wed kissed her blonde niece on the top of her head as she took the bottle from her hand and instantly took a large swig. “Thank you, Pumpkin.” It was nice to take the edge off after spending your day with your hands in someone’s guts. Wednesday glanced around at the decorations the twins had put up and let out a little laugh as she reminisced about the parties their father would throw in that very house when they were the kids' age; they were certainly very different. “And you girls, you got some special men or women or whatever you’re into coming?” The Good Doctor had learned from her youngest daughter that sex was barely anything to think about anymore. People just loved people. “Does Auntie Wed need to get her bikini out? You know I’ve still got a rocking bod underneath these scrubs.”

“Fuck no,” Autie snorted, the sourness from her recent breakup oozing from her very being. “And I don’t plan on getting another man anytime soon.” So she says, but kids were fickle. Followed their heart, just like Niles was about to.

“For once we’re all single at the same time, so that’s fun,” Carrie smiled, seeing there was chocolate on her hand she quickly licked it off before continuing, “Both Niles and Autie got dumped recently.”

“Excuse me,” Autumn marched to her twin, hissing, “I dumped him. He didn’t dump me. You got it?”

Her smile turned into a minx grin. Carrie nodded in faux agreement. “Sure, yes. Whatever you say.”

Niles getting caught in trying to escape caused him to huff. He didn’t want to rudely leave his aunt now that she’s seen. Turning around, he looked at her at a distance before following Autie’s suit and entering the foyer. Running his hand through his hair, sighing deeply, he looked at the ladies in the house before crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. “I’m still taking that internship. I’ve just got a lot going on.” Which wasn’t a lie since he and Lex had to take care of Clay all of Monday night. Then when he did finally get home, he not only found out Caitlin was David’s lover but she also broke up with him to be with Mikhai. So yeah, one could say there was a lot happening in Niles Sinclair’s life.

“Oh boo hoo, Nilios this whole brooding bad boy thing didn’t work for your Dad and it doesn’t work for you. You’re too rich for that shit.” Wednesday polished off her beer in a second gulp and handed the bottle back to Carrie. “Can I get another, oh niece of mine? You’re a doll.”

Carrie was never one to protest and nodded gleefully. The obedient Disney-loving girl pranced back into the kitchen, which also allowed her time to check on the dessert in the oven. Grabbing another beer, she took a sip and made a face. Beer was… okay. She likes pina coladas most. Or strawberry daiquiris! See, Carrie wasn’t completely vanilla like her peers thought. Thanks to Autumn, she’s tried more drinks than she ever thought she would before the age of eighteen.

Walking over to her nephew, the gorgeous blonde placed her hands on his face and with her big blue eyes stared into his soul. It was a technique she had used since he was a little boy. Niles always had an anger in him, he always had demons, something she knew quite well in her own life. “Forget about what you’ve got going on. You have a lady that’s willing to touch your dick…well maybe…you focus on her and making sure you treat her like a fucking goddess.” Taking one hand away, Wednesday reached into the top pocket of her scrubs and pulled out some money. “I was saving this for the stripper but I’d rather you spend it wisely.” She stuffed the wad of cash into his jeans before slapping his face. “Too much cologne. Go wash it off and try again before you go.”

Niles didn’t know if he should be embarrassed, frustrated or thankful for his aunt’s unwarranted advice. Though when she brought up the possibility of Kianna wanting to touch his dick, maybe, that set his mind in a different direction he was trying to avoid. He needed to be wholesome so he didn’t scare Ki away. Sniffing himself, he did wonder if she was right about the cologne. Was he going too hard? Regardless if he wanted her advice or not, he was quick to leave her side and go upstairs.

Turning around, the older woman undid the ponytail in her straw coloured hair and let it fall loose around her shoulders. “As for you…” She looked at Autumn with a smile. She reminded her so much of herself when she was that age. “You can always do better. Wear your red bikini tonight. It’s absolutely your color. And make sure, you make them work for it.”

Autie couldn’t protest her aunt’s words. Red was her color. And if anything, Derrick was going to be sorry for ever letting her go. “Yeah, you’re right. Anyways, I’m sure dad knows, but we’re using his booze. I’m starting now.” There was a moment where Autumn thought about all the good things that could happen at this party. When she thought about her friends and just having a reason to be dumb with them, she smiled. Quickly, she hugged her aunt before dismissing herself to get herself a shot of something. Maybe tequila.

At this point, Carrie returned with a second beer and offered it to the older woman. “Auntie, do you think… I could find someone? I’m no Niles or Autumn but maybe tonight could be different.”

Wednesday smiled at Caroline and wrapped her arm around the small blonde as she took the beer off of her. “Of course you could find someone Carrie and you don’t have to be like Niles or Autie. You only have to be you.” The doctor took another deep swill from her new beverage. “Listen, we’re all infinitely different. We like who we like, we like what we like and we put out into the world what we want. When I was your age, my friend Ronnie, an absolutely gorgeous girl, like you, still is in fact but I digress…”

Wed guided Carrie out into the garden where much of the decoration had taken place and towards the edge, where from down the hill, one could see the entire town. “Ronnie had this attitude, she was a cheerleader but she’d come to practise in this sick leather jacket, wearing plaid skirts and jamming out to Incubus or some shit. But when you spoke to her, she was honestly the most warm and loving person you could imagine and shy too. I don’t think she ever had a boyfriend in high school until there was a party. A party at this very house and she met a drummer, hot piece of ass he was and they clicked.” Wednesday brushed a strand of Carrie’s hair behind her ear and smiled. “Point I’m trying to make, pumpkin spice, is that you only ever need to be yourself and you’ll find what you’re looking for. You just have to put yourself out there. There is an entire world beyond that horizon. It’s yours for the taking.”

“Ronnie…” Carrie whispered, a sudden glint of curiosity in her eyes. “Do you mean Ronnie Decker? Charlie Decker’s mother?” There was an abrupt realization that her father might be more connected than she realized. Or maybe back then, the lines weren’t as concrete between southside and northside. Maybe back then everyone was friends with everyone. “Dad was friends with her? Or… was she just going to one of his parties?” The bubbly blonde had shifted into detective mode. This wouldn’t be the first time she felt like there was more to her father than he gave off and when she met those southies the other day, she watched them and saw how they carried themselves wasn’t too different from how her father carries himself, when he isn’t in the eyes of the public.

“She was a Clover, sweetie. They went to every party, you know that.” Wednesday glanced out at the skyline and the town below. In the distance she could see the Sunken house, not too far from where Ronnie lived now herself. “Anyway don’t change the subject. Here’s what’s gonna happen tonight.” She stood before her niece and like she had done with Niles moments earlier, placed her hands on her pretty little face, avoiding brushing the cold beer bottle against it. “Tonight you’re gonna push the boat out a bit. Wear something a little bit sexy, bring the attention onto you and then, you’re gonna show them that underneath the Disney princess is a fucking warrior. You’re a sexy bitch and you’re gonna eat some poor fucker alive.”

With widened eyes, Carrie profusely nodded, hanging on every word Wednesday said. Sexy. She could totally do sexy. With all the sexy friends she had, including her twin, there’s no doubt she could pull sexy off. All she had to do was be a modern day Disney princess and find a poor boy and make him her’s. This was the Rapunzal era and if needed, she’d use a frying pan to whack her competition away from her Flynn. Instead of a response leaving her lips, her body jumped at the sound of the oven going off. “Oh! My brownies!” Before scampering off, she embraced her aunt one last time and excitably thanked her for such sage words.

As she watched her little niece run away, Wednesday called back to her. “They better be pot brownies Carrie or I’m throwing you down this damn hill!” When she was a girl it was neon lights, drugs and hard liquor when it came to a teenage party. Here she could see her kin putting up streamers and decorations. Planning. She was borderline embarrassed.

“They are special, I promise!” Carrie happily yelled back as she entered the backdoor.

At the same time, Niles came out to meet the older woman so she could give him one last glance before he left. He was seeking her approval which he would never admit. Something to this day, Hector still did. Hell, it was Wednesday who fixed the Doctor’s ties, seeing how the one woman he was sexually involved with was married and had limited time. Wednesday spent all day everyday with the pain in the ass so she knew the kids’ father like the back of her hand. Something likely the Sinclair children didn’t realize, since she became such a pivotal figure in their lives. Approaching her in the garden, Niles cleared his throat, revealing the information that he was sure she wanted to know, “Kianna. That’s her name.”

“Kianna.” Wednesday pondered as she finished off her beer and tossed it into the glass recycle. She knew the girl very well. Kimora’s daughter. Sleeping dogs and all that, she feigned some ignorance. “Is that the girl from the garage? She’s very pretty. You done good, Niles.” She didn’t give her nephew much time to answer before she approached him and drank in his visage. He was so much like his father, seeing him standing there was like a window to 1996 and the best times of her life. “Much better.” She tapped his broad chest with her palm. “Before you dip out there’s a crate of booze in my car, bring it in. Auntie Wednesday is gonna go have one of Carrie’s special brownies.” Before she breezes past him, the surgeon leaned and kissed his cheek. “Remember Nilios, treat her like a goddess and leave the dark here. I’ll take care of it until you get back. I’m proud of you.” She smiled before stretching out her arms as she began to walk away. “GIRLS! I need to see the music situation! If I see one Taylor Swift song I am burning this house to the ground!”

“Right…” Niles muttered, as he watched his aunt saunter away.

Treat her like a goddess.

That was the plan, if Kianna took a chance on him.

After the frustrating and taxing conversation with Natalia had come to an end, the silence became less comfortable and more unbearably charged with tension. The music did little to help this so Mordechai was more than happy to peek out from under his beanie at one point and see the sign welcoming the car’s inhabitants back to Edenridge. After a moment’s thought over his plans for the rest of the day- he still had to pick up Allegra before he headed with her the meet Rey Rey at the Edge like he’d agreed to last night, he still had to visit Danny’s grave like Jade suggested- Mordechai felt an overwhelming grip around his heart at the realization that he was already starting up on life again, already living for himself. Blue Hill had been a needed experience for everyone who went, but now that he was back in Edenridge Mordechai was already missing the support system his angels and Auntie Adora had supplied. Taking Tama’s beanie off and running his hands through his hair to make it presentable, he quietly requested that Tal drop him off in front of the Cafe Rochambeau so that he could visit another pillar of support to him.

Walking into Beau’s cafe in the early evening, sober and not even swaying in the cool breeze that swept around him when he swung the door open, Mordechai felt a moment of pride for himself that he hoped the ex-english teacher would share. Beau had a special place in the hearts of most Edenites, but the slowly-mending man that approached the counter had needed a little more of the man’s unyielding patience and wisdom than the rest of his peers. In the small time between the Serpent Dorms and the Lancaster home, the Boaz brothers had spent their nights under the Beauregards' roof. Beau had always been there, and Mordechai hasn’t talked to him in the past month and a half any more than he’d talked to his southie brothers. It was damn near disrespectful, but it was worth it to be showing up with some muscle, color, and squared shoulders instead of pale, slouched and shaking, trying desperately not to scratch at his arms.

He couldn’t imagine starting up the next chapter of his life without sharing it with one Antoine Beauregard first.

“Hey Beau,” He greeted as he slid into place on the stool straight across from the man, smile bright and lacking any of the tenseness or negativity that tended to cast shadow over one of his attractive features. “I never said it, but thanks for the garage sleepover last month, we all really needed it.”

“Ain’t no thing.” Antoine had lived by those three words for most of his adult life. Ain’t no thing. When said by most, it wasn’t anything special. However when said by him, in his thick Louisiana drawl, big booming but warm voice, the words carried a weight. One knew that when the old man said it, he meant it. There wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for those he cared for and even those he didn’t. Be it the shirt from his back, a roof overhead or just a nice word, family or stranger, Antoine always had their back and it was never a big deal.

Beau had done much during his time as a teacher not to play favorites and for the most part he had stuck to that. Mordechai Boaz and his little brother Danny though? They held a special place in his heart. When Decky walked into his class six years ago for the first time, all black messy hair, a busted face and a strong smell of cigarettes, he knew that the boy would be a special case. Even when Mordechai threw everything back at him, Beau would never give up on the child and he never did. Seeing him now, with color in his cheeks and not so wearied look in his eye made the old man’s heart smile. “Colleen was just happy to see you again. I mean after she told me off, of course. You want something to drink?”

“If she didn’t tell you off first, would she be miss Colleen?” Mordechai replied to the warm man with a small laugh, already relaxed in his presence despite the fact that his back was facing the entrance and windows. He doesn’t have to keep his head on a swivel with Beau around. “I’ll just take a light roast with a shot and some cream, I still got a long day ahead of me,” He looked down at the counter a moment before thinking of who would be with him, realizing Allegra would kick his ass if he showed up without a drink for her. Knowing her order has changed since her time at the Diner in Brownsville, he questioned Beau. “Hey, the girl that’s been comin’ in here since I got back, Allegra- Latina, short as hell with short black hair and a New York accent- d’you remember what she usually gets?”

“You know me, I never forget a thing.” Beau replied as he picked up a to-go cup and stuck it beneath his machine. “Hazelnut white mocha, extra coffee shot right?” The older man with bear-like hands, picked up his handle and pressed it against the coffee grinder to get out his latest batch of fresh ground beans. He placed it down and tampered the grounds until flat and placed them in his machine. “Now I already know that you ain’t here just for a coffee or two.” As Beau pumped a few drops of white chocolate and hazelnut into the cup, he looked towards Decky with his big brown eyes edging over his glasses. “What’s on your mind son?”

“Never could get one past ya, could I,” he laughed while meeting Beau’s eyes, dark as night yet warm as a bright sunny day, and confessed, “I’m doin’ better and I wanted ta show ya, but I also wanted ta see ya before I headed to the Edge an put a little disappointment in your gaze,” he spread his arms out on either side of him rotating his torso a bit as if truly giving Beau a good look before dropping his forearms back down on the counter, face falling neutral as he said earnestly, “I’m goin’ back in, I miss ‘em all too much to be without ‘em any longer, but I’m not gonna be as ignorant about it before.”

Mordechai was loyal, despite everything, that was true. There were lines he wouldn’t cross- not many, but there nonetheless- but if he was loyal to you he would do damn near anything. Beau was there at thirteen Carlisle last month, he’d no doubt heard his and Rey Rey’s pathetic little confrontation where Mordechai was once again harmed by an adult he had put his trust, his faith, into. Beau would know just like Poppy and Jade knew just how much it meant for that to have happened, for him to have been called no more than a tool by the man he saw like an older brother, and Mordechai knew Beau would not like him returning under R2’s thumb.

“I’m goin’ back sober and with someone that’s real good at keepin’ me in check, but I’m also gonna be back at Phil’s part time so I got a legit income ta report. I got kids ta take care of now, can’t be all under the table.”

Of all the things that it could’ve been, Beau did not see that one coming. As the hissing of the coffee wand steaming the milk filled the silence, the ex police officer rallied through his memories and thoughts like an Olympic hurdler. He didn’t want Decky to go back into the life, the game. Antoine had spent years of trying and failing to get him out alive and he had failed every single time. And here he was again, failing because Mordechai had once again chosen the life that was going to take his.

Of course the boy was trying to sandwich the idea with two good ones, the Allegra girl seemed to do wonders for him and Beau had no doubt that she could keep him grounded but that didn’t matter, grounded would never be enough to keep him alive. Having a straight job at the garage? That wouldn’t either. He could tell by the look in Decky’s eyes that he hadn’t come to be convinced away from the Serpents and he didn’t come for a blessing. No words would change the boy's mind. Placing the cups down, Beau rubbed his beard and knew that, likely for the last time, he would say his peace to Mordechai.

“Son, I spent years trying to teach you right from wrong, good and evil. I tried to teach you that middle way, the grey way and that is the way you walk now. There ain’t a man on this planet that can knock you off of that path except yourself but I already know that’s not what you want.” Antoine called his fists and placed them down onto the counter. “You remember what Colleen always said? You cannot lose if you do not play. Now you ain’t been playing for a while but if you gonna start up again, you need to know, the rules change, they change so fast. There ain’t no winning.” He said emphatically. “Only surviving to the next round. The game is the game.”

He turned and finished up making Decky and Allegra’s drinks. He placed both cups into a holder and placed them to one side. “Whatever your role is, imma let you know now that I ain’t never gonna give up on you. You’re better than what you think you are. You deserve more than that life out there and I don’t wanna hear that you don’t. I’m an old man now, Mordechai. I don’t wanna outlive you.”

Mordechai sat silently as he listened to Beau’s words, advice that told you exactly how he felt without the judgment you expect from others, and absorbed everything the wise man told him. He knew he was disappointing Beau by returning to the Serpents, he knew his was breaking the man’s heart a little- he could see how Beau was frailer than he used to be, his skin a bit more papery and thin and the slightest tremor in his hand as he set down the carrier. He was breaking an old man’s heart. But however much he wanted to do what he knew Beau hoped for and live a life outside one of Eden’s whirlpool of danger and chaos, he didn’t know how.

Sure, Beau was right when he said Mordechai was out of the life for a while, but he was only partially right. The few short months after he’d left the Serpents and before Danny’s death, he’d been out, but since then Mordechai has made his way on hitchhiking, odd jobs and turning tricks, not by making a better life for himself outside Eden’s influence.

“You’re the best teacher I ever had, Beau, and one of the best people I know,” He told the man steadily. He was practically selfish with how he’d not shown Beau his gratitude all these years, left it unsaid under the excuse that it didn’t need to be and the reality of being afraid of showing that vulnerability despite everything the man had seen him through. Seen them through. “Ya helped me raise Danny, but ya also helped ta raise me, and I need ya ta understand how much that means ta me, and that I’m really aware of it now,” He thought back to the time that he had skipped his last classes of the day to go pick Danny up from middle school, the two brothers playing around in the highschool gym. Decky had been holding the basketball above his head and Danny had tackled him to get it. They had been laughing on the ground until the ball stopped rolling once it hit Beau’s feet, then both boys had gone extremely silent and anxious, expecting punishment. They’d flinched when his voice raised and he’d immediately changed tactics, sitting the boys on the bench and explaining his own disappointment and worry with an anecdote from his own past thrown in to show where he gained his wisdom.

Mordechai had seen the same look back then in Beau’s eyes, the exact worry the man had just expressed in current time unable to stay completely hidden. Mordechai knew Beau didn't want to survive any more of the young adults he considered his children, but he also knew that the day Beau died was going to be the day that many of the lost souls of Edenridge became orphans twice over. It would mean another gravestone for Mordechai to express his sorrows and regrets over. He didn’t even want to think about Beau’s death, but he realized that by returning to the Serpents, he was forcing his father figure to imagine his. He guessed it was only fair play to turn it around.

He wouldn’t disagree with Beau anymore like he used to about him deserving a better life. Whether he believed it or not, he knew it was true, but he had no idea how to manifest it yet and he needed something that he knew. He knew the Serpents, the job, and he knew it was a steady income. Maybe he would officially retire again some day, like most of the parents of his Serpent siblings, but right now he needed the foundation he’d built- the family- to stand solid until he could finally see the finish line. He would survive until then, but on the side he would actually start living too.

“I don’t know if I ever told ya this, but I really don’t wanna die,” He finally spoke up again, his voice rough with the emotion that conversations with Beau evokes. “Didn’t then and don’t now, I’m actually terrified of it despite how many times it’s already almost happened,” He looked into Beau’s eyes, trying to send the man all the appreciation he’s ever built up for him, trying to reinvigorate the strong line of his shoulders which had dropped into a defeated curve while he was steaming the milk for Allegra’s drink. “I’m tryin’a figure out how ta live right now, and you’ve opened up so many paths for me, but I’ve failed ‘em all so far. Ya know I never promise anythin’, but I’m tellin’ you I’m not gonna be takin’ as many risks as I did when I was younger, and I won’t be tweaked out the whole time either. But I did swear ta Pops that I would come back ta her no matter what, no matter how. I’m just makin’ my decisions and hopin’ that I’m better at it than I used ta be. I didn’t die before ‘cause I had Danny who needed me, now I’ve got my kids, and I’m not livin’ only for them but it’s a helluva lot of incentive ta keep as much life inside me as possible.”

He grabbed his drink from the carrier and took a sip, letting the hot drink clear his throat before rolling the cup between his hands while he continued. “I ain’t got blood here, Alana and Beni don’t count-” He bit out the names like he was trying to get poison off his tongue. His parents did more to ensure his death than they ever did to keep him alive. “-like remember how I couldn’t even do the lineage project ya assigned ‘til ya gave me alternate guidelines? Ya had me do a family tree, but a chosen family tree. I was too prideful ta do it at the time, but I had a branch with you and miss Colleen I ended up not gettin’ the balls ta add in. But it still showed me that I need family. You’re my family Beau, Pops and Jade, Mika, Legs and the kids. But also all my brothers and sisters in the Serpents. People I love. Everyone with that patch on their jacket, that ink on their skin? If somethin’...happens ta me, if I do die, that means Viva and Chai are taken care of even if they don’t know it. Bein’ a legacy creates just as much blessin’ as it can curses, but I’m hoping even if it ain’t the right choice, it ain’t the worst choice neither. I’m tryin’a be responsible too though, I’m gonna take some of that money out each earn and build ‘em a savin’s account. I’ve already repurposed the college fund I’d set aside for Danny into the start’a it.”

Beau couldn’t deny that even though he hated Decky’s plan, he was proud of the boy for thinking first about his family and friends. He knew then that at least some of the lessons he had tried to teach had sunk into the soil of the boy's being and taken root like a mighty oak. Antoine knew that none of the kids he taught, nor his own biological kids would ever be perfect. To each their own, their flaws and dreams. He wept for them in both sadness and joy. He loved them all with a fervent passion for them to be better than what society had deemed for them. Had Beau done his job? He wasn’t so sure but seeing the man that Mordechai Boaz was growing into, made it easier for him to believe so. “Be smart. Be hopeful. Do good, son.”

“You’re one’a the only people I know that actually practices what ya preach,” Mordechai praised in response. As he’s already said, he knew he was breaking this man’s heart, but he always was really good at breaking the hearts of the people he cared about even when he thought he was doing what was best. “I’ll do my damndest not ta die before ya, Beau. I’m not promisin’ nothin’ while we all live in this town but ya have my word that I’ll at the least be fightin’ ta live, not just survive. You’ll see me retired one day.”

“I better.” The guardian of Edenridge lifted the small hatch counter and took a step through it into the cafe where he stood before Decky. “A man must live by his word.” He placed his hand on the dark haired young man’s shoulder and smiled. “Wherever you go and whatever you do, I’ll always be proud of you, Mordechai. You and Danny will always be my boys.” Antoine couldn’t help but think of some of his failures, the children he couldn’t save. Charlie Decker, Cameron Hyde, the Grimm brothers. All consumed by a darkness that ate away at the very foundation of such a beautiful town and its people. Even his own children, Desmond, Delphine, Genevieve, Evangeline and Zara had all felt the black hand of Edenridge wrap its fingers around their throats. The soul of children dances on a pinhead, threading the needle between light and dark. If Decky were to fall, he hoped it would be one way and not the other. “Believe that.”

He did believe that, he really did. Suddenly, with those words, Beau’s hand didn’t feel like the only one on his shoulder. Beau was talking about both of them, Mordechai and Danny, and it was as if it had allowed his brother to join in on the moment from the other side so they could feel him there with them too. He could swear his brother was standing there, his one hand on Mordechai’s shoulder while the other held on to Beau’s like he was completing a circuit.

You and Danny will always be my boys.

He’d initially raised Danny himself despite his young age, but something Mordechai’s been too confused over to accept until recently is that Beau, Phil and the other mechanics, and all the Serpent parents had raised him as well as Danny. Mordechai and Danny managed to be orphans despite their parents living a street away, but they’d also gained a handful of adults through this that claimed them as their own while never requiring the same thing back. Never expecting the same thing back. He and Danny had lived in Beau’s house, learned manners from miss Colleen that no Serpent parent ever thought to teach. They’d slept under their roof and it was the most restful couple months of their lives. Mordechai had no blood in this town, but the amount of family he’d gained while being so stupidly blind to it was staggering.

Quickly- faster than his strike in the heat of a fight- Mordechai reached out and fisted his hand in the front of Beau’s shirt and pulled the larger man in, crashing their chests together and wrapping his arms around the man, shoving his face into his neck. For the first time, Mordechai Boaz initiated a hug with Antoine Beauregard, and he was holding him as if he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you,” He whispered to the heart of the town, words slightly muffled with his face still buried in Beau’s neck as he tried to stave off the tears burning at his closed eyelids. “For bein’ the father we needed even when we couldn’t see or accept it. I see it now, and I’m so fuckin’ grateful that ya gave us so much’a you.”

Beau could feel Decky trembling in his arms as the two men embraced. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to his charge that day but something inside of Mordechai had changed or at the very least, a part of his soul had been unlocked and the floodgates opened. Antoine sincerely hoped that whatever was filling the young man’s spirit was enough to guide him out of the dark waters that he was wading through. The men were lost in each other's arms and the life they shared, ignoring the world around them as it fell quiet. For a few moments longer, Beau held the sobbing child before backing away and placing both hands on Decky’s shoulder, flashing him his massive toothy smile. “Ain’t no thing.”

"No," Mordechai countered as he smiled back, wiping tears away from his reddened eyes. ain’t no thing was how Beau felt about it. To the man with the heart of a saint and the actions of a hero, doing his best for everyone he knew was no big deal, but to the victims he’s saved and the lost souls he raised? Well, to them, "It's just everything."

Once Duke and Jokes had followed Creed and his two charges safely back to the Gonzales home the other men were relieved of their shifts. Creed had accepted Aleyda’s invitation into the house and Jokes went off to call his Auntie Adora after getting a voicemail from the loving woman filling him in on the events going on with Boa and Puff out at Blue Hill. Left alone and to his own devices for the rest of the day, Duke drove back to Lost Souls with the intent of wasting the rest of the day inside the comfort of his own apartment. He opened his door with the expectation of a cold and dark living room and was instead greeted by the sight of his boyfriend, Dominic Wells, and the neutral face Duke had carried at work and on the drive home lifted into a bright smile.

“Hey,” he greeted as he closed and locked the door, toeing off his shoes and sliding the security chain in place now that the apartment’s two inhabitants were both home. “I thought you were busy until tonight.”

“I was. Or I thought I would be.” Dominic or Doc, as most call him, stammered for his words the minute he saw Duke walk into the apartment. “Club Business was cut short. Something about more important matters that Twitch had to attend to.” Dominic spoke as someone who didn’t have the full story and that’s because he didn’t. The man often had his head stuck in the clouds…well, if those clouds were made of nuts, bolts, and various engine parts spread throughout the Clubhouse. When he wasn’t here or in his own apartment when Duke’s not-so-sweet father, Tiberius Booker, came around, he was at the club. “So I had some free time on my hands. Didn’t want to spend it anywhere else.” He said with a beaming smile, gently patting the seat next to him on Duke’s sofa as some rerun of Family Guy was playing. It was the iconic episode where Stewie beat the holy hell crap out of Brian and even hearing it when his attention was shifted on his boyfriend, he couldn’t help but let out a few second hand chuckles. He loved stupid humor like Family Guy and American Dad.

Duke smiled as he took his spot next to the man he’d been dating in secret for years now. Things like family guy weren’t really his brand of humor and hadn’t been for quite some time, but he loved seeing his boyfriend smile and laugh no matter what the subject was, so he had some of the older episodes memorized as well. The first time he’d seen the scene currently on the screen he’d immediately thought of the trouble twins, Ransom and Molotov, and he was never able to see it the same ever since. Especially not after he ran Enforcer for one of Ransom’s collections; the kid was so vicious and cold on the job, and if he hadn’t known him his whole life, Duke could’ve been scared.

“I wouldn’t want you to spend it anywhere else, either,” Ducaleon admitted to his love as he leaned in and captured the leaner man’s lips in a loving kiss, dropping his hand to Dominic’s thigh and squeezing. Like always, he wanted to show Dominic how much he truly loved him, but there was always an underlying apology that this beautiful thing was kept secret for Duke’s sake, that Dominic was kept a secret just so there was no chance that word could get back to his father. Sure the man could have Sultan Wilson, Duke’s friend and Creed’s older cousin- a married gay man- work as the secretary for Booker Brick and Mortar Restorations, but that was different. That was business, and the dude was amazing at his job. But his own son, the one he raised after the divorce, being bisexual? Not a chance. Not after everything he’s said over the years, both overheard or said directly to Duke. Dominic understood, he’s always understood. He’d been friends with Duke’s older brother Leone long before they were Fallen Angels together. It didn’t make Duke feel any better about it. “I hate coming back to an empty home.”

Dom looked at his boyfriend (and yes, that’s what they were and no amount of secrecy would ever change his opinion about that), reading between the lines of Duke’s words, his kiss, and how his hand squeezed Dom’s lean thigh. He understood what was being said without it being uttered and Dom always wanted to reassure Duke almost every time he could. When Duke’s kiss broke, Dom kissed him back. “Being alone sucks. Your place is much more homier than mine ever could be. Your couch is great too!” This was Dom’s specialty. Perhaps a side effect of his habit of shifting from one subject to another, which played into his uniqueness that most either loved or didn’t, but Ducaleon Booker never gave him any grief about it. That made him the second Booker who had accepted his faults, no matter how out of control they became and there were some days when Dominic was like the energizer bunny.

But because of the man next to him and his brother, Doc has his anchors.

“You know, though, we could always invite Dolce around. Maybe we can have her and Callum over for dinner one of these days? Maybe make some of Shale’s greatest hits? I like to think I’m getting the hang of some of their recipes…” Although he understood nothing compared to the real thing, if there was one thing Doc could do well it was pick up things quicker than most would. His mind was always churning, always processing complicated problems. A recipe was so much like taking apart and putting together a motorcycle. If you knew which parts were what and where they went, you could understand how to put it together. Recipes were similar in that way and Dom’s focus was, if anything, one of his better traits. Plus, he liked making Duke happy and food was the ultimate act of love because it meant someone put time and effort into doing something considerate for that one person who means the world to them. Duke is that person for Dominic and so was his family (exception: Tiberius).

“Uh, yeah,” Duke responded to the suggestion slowly, mind already kicking up into gear to find a way that the invitation could seem natural. “Um, what if I…what if I say I want a Booker sibling day or something! Leone could come and we could have you come since you live next door and so Cal isn’t the odd one out. Plus you’re the best cook of all of us so it would make sense,” he assured, eyes trailing from side to side in anxious thought. Dolce may have broken through his walls a few years ago when she got him to admit that he was ’bi-curious, probably, I don’t fuckin’ know but you can’t tell a soul, promise me’, but he still couldn’t bring himself to update her on the fact that it was actually ’bisexual, definitely, and currently with the most amazing man that the family had accepted long before I started dating him.’ He’d never said anything to Leone about it, and his older brother had never asked. “Movie marathon maybe?”

It was at that moment Dominic processed what he had said and what it really meant. He was so used to his family knowing about who he loved (not the specific who but who he was attracted to in the general sense of things), but that didn’t mean the same was for his boyfriend. Holding Duke’s hand and squeezing it assuringly, Dom looked at his boyfriend. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with.” He made sure that Duke saw his eyes, heard his voice, and made sure he knew he wasn’t trying to force anything. That was the last thing. He got ahead of himself, didn’t think it all the way through. He was so in love with the man next to him that he was only thinking of what could help him not feel so alone in the event he couldn’t always be waiting for him when he got home and having his siblings over seemed like the second best thing.

“I feel like I would have to cook. Leone can’t toast bread, let alone handle Shale’s iconic, if not complicated recipes.” He laughed, remembering the last time that Leone tried to make a grilled cheese. “Did I ever tell you about the time he made us dinner one time and it was so bad, Twitch made an official amendment and held a Table vote about it?”

You didn't have to," Duke laughed, letting go of the lip he was biting to make way for the smile that broke across his face. "He came to me whinin' about it as soon as the meeting was finished. Tried to prove to me that he could cook and then almost burned dad's house down, I had to push him out the back window so he didn't get caught," that was a long time ago, after the divorce had been finalized and his father had taken up heavy drinking in his off hours, so Duke of course had gotten his brother out of the line of fire and been cleaning off the stove as his father pulled into the driveway. When Tiberius had entered the home soon after, he'd thrown a fit over the half-cleaned kitchen and wasted food. The smile faded off Duke's face as he remembered how the rest of the story went. "You have mama's recipes perfected compared to the rest of us, I don't know how all three of us missed the cookin' gene but I know they're happy that you were around to pick up the slack," he leaned back into his boyfriend and gave him a soft kiss on his temple. "That genius brain of yours never ceases to amaze."

He took Dom's face in his hands and pulled him into a deeper kiss, willing to drop the subject for the time being in lieu of being affectionate and loving with his boyfriend for as long as he could. He sat up just long enough to swing a leg over his boyfriend's lap and settle there like he was the missing puzzle piece, then he resumed his task of trying to take his love's breath away. He was just beginning to slide his hand up under Dominic's shirt and-

*Knockknockknock*

"Shit-" Duke threw himself backwards, out of his lover's arms and off of his lap before the third timid knock could even finish. Avoiding the coffee table, Duke twisted to catch himself on his hands so he didn't face plant onto the threadbare carpeting, then he not so calmly gathered himself up into a standing position and looked around his apartment with fear-wild eyes. "Um, b-bedroom, go hide i-in the bedroom, please," Duke begged, apologizing with his eyes while already backing away from his boyfriend and towards the door, an unfortunately common routine between the two. "I'll get rid of whoever it is."

Even before Duke was finished, Dominic was already on his feet, his body half-turned towards the bedroom. A small period of curiosity kept him from going as he saw his boyfriend head for the door and he went inside his lover’s bedroom, closing the door shut, but making sure to put his left ear to it so he could at least hear half of what might happen. In the back of his mind, he feared it might’ve been Duke’s poor-excuse of a sperm donor. If that was the case and if he had to, he would throw some fucking hands. Dom wasn’t a fighter fighter like Leone or, really, any of the angels, but he would go to ware for his man.

Once the bedroom door had closed, Duke took a deep breath and peeked through the peephole, eyebrows raising in surprise as all he could see was the disheveled top of the person's head on the other side, indicating a small brunette with her head down and standing rather close. Were the hair a bit lighter, Duke would have suspected it to be Boa's friend, Poppy, though he'd be just as confused on why she was here. As it was, the Enforcer had no idea as to who could be waiting on the other side of the door, nor why they'd chosen his. After a moment's consideration, Duke slid the chain out of place and unlocked his door, opening it just enough for the girl to see him but not be able to see too much of his apartment behind him. The girl now standing in front of him was more than half a foot shorter than him, which was impressive given his shorter than average stature at five foot seven. He took in her ruffled appearance and timid stance and let the tense line of his shoulders fall until his body language was more soft and welcoming.

"Uh, hello," he greeted, sticking his head into the hallway to see if anyone was with her or using her for an opening. "Are you alright?"

“Um,” Lorelei honestly would have rathered no one answered the door. Let alone a big guy that could take her down with his finger. Her teeth started jittering in sudden bouts of fear. Miss Samantha told her that this was the safest place in Edenridge. That her parents wouldn’t know she was here. Miss Samantha told her to be brave and that soon she’d find her again and take her in. Or did she hear that wrong? Did Samantha want nothing to do with her? Then why would she give her this burner phone?

Lala clutched tightly on the phone, wondering immediately if this was a mistake. She wished her brother was here. He would know what to say and how to say it. He would be able to read if this guy was good or not. If he was going to hurt her or if he was understanding and willing to hear her out. “I’m really sorry, I… I’ve never done this before.” Lala brought the phone up, placing it on her chest, holding it with both of her hands. Her sleeves dropped ever so slightly, showing a glimpse of fading marks, of someone who had held her down, countless times. “Someone… said… Lost Souls is… has good people? I, um…” Don’t want to go home.

Duke’s eyes had trailed from the girl’s chattering teeth, to the obvious burner phone clutched tightly in her frail grasp, to the multitude of faded grip marks now apparent on her thin and pale wrists and he felt his jaw clenching in anger. He did his best to keep any heated response from showing on his face or in his stance but he’d seen bruises like that far too often on the kids in his hood- the Warren and the Boaz brothers, the Cernis siblings- until something or someone changed their situations. There were too many disgusting people in this world, too many people happy to hurt the ones they’re meant to be shielding, and Duke had seen more than enough proof before he followed his baby sister and her stooges into the Serpents. Everyone in this building had seen enough proof, that’s one of the reasons it existed.

“Hey, it’s alright,” He assured in a soft and low voice, reading between the lines of her answer and once again trying to soften his otherwise hard and muscular appearance. He let go of the door and let it slowly swing open so the girl could see the empty space behind him and see him fully and unguarded. His focus was now entirely on making the obviously abused young girl feel safe, or at least comfortable, enough that he could get her inside and get a warm blanket around her. “My name’s Duke Booker, and this is my apartment. Whoever told you this place was safe is right, and I’d like to help if you’d be okay with that.”

His demeanor was kind and his words were soothing. Pierce had always told her to not judge a book by its cover. Looks could be deceiving. Wolves could wear sheep’s clothing while good people could have fangs and venom, solely because that’s how they were raised to be. She was a bird, flying far from her cage, seeking safety from a place full of those that look like predators. Based on how this man presented himself and how he talked and even opened his door for her to see everything inside before she came to the decision of staying or going, she could tell not everyone was a monster. She could tell he meant well.

Her shoulders didn’t ease, since she was still frightened. Not at him or his apartment but at the fallout of her running away. Her grip on the phone tightened as she nodded and greeted back, “I’m Lorelei. My friends call me Lala…” her voice trailed off, as she stopped herself from giving her surname. If she told him too much, this could backfire. Lala was far too deep into the victim mindset that every word she said, every action she did, she wondered if it would turn against her. Taking a deep breath in and holding it in, she took a couple steps inside. Looking around, completely aware of her surroundings, alert and trying to find some clarity of how to feel safe in this moment, she exhaled, catching a couple of breaths, before apologizing again, “I’m sorry for intruding…”

“It’s no problem,” He assured the girl again. “I’m gonna close the door but I won’t lock it unless you want me to,” He dictated his actions to her before he did them, making sure the hypervigilant state the girl was in was at least partially satiated by the clear information. In the lull that closing the door created, Duke took a moment to look down and realized he still had his boots on. Why did he still have his boots on? He always took them off when he closed the door so what had stopped him today?

Oh. Right. His boyfriend got home early.

’Fuck.’

His fear of being discovered warred for only a second with his protective instinct over someone who is obviously a victim of abuse before he took a deep breath and announced, “I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you this. I have someone else in the other room but I promise he’s harmless, I can get him out of here while you close yourself in the bathroom or something,” Duke’s own nerves suddenly picked up. He didn’t want Lala to think that he had tricked her, or that they were trying to corner her, but this was one of those situations he’d feared for years; a small mental slip now had someone close enough to discover his relationship with Dominic, and he had no idea how this stranger would react. “I’m sorry, again, I just forgot.”

“It’s okay…” Lala whispered, noting Duke’s fixation on his boots. She slowly took off her shoes by the door, assuming that was the etiquette of this household. “I… trust you.” Cautiously, she placed her shoes to the side before shuffling deeper into the apartment, not knowing where to go. She chose to stand in place, waiting for direction from the older figure. Obedient and patient, just how her dad trained her.

“Okay,” Duke replied, closing his eyes to keep her from seeing his frustration at himself and taking a moment to take his boots off before he also moved a little further into the room. He didn’t show it much, but he was honored by the girl’s somewhat easy trust of him, well aware that he wasn’t the most approachable looking in many people’s minds. Assuming she didn’t want to sit down until she knew where the other man in the apartment was going to be, he shuffled past her, giving her a wide berth as he did, and headed to his bedroom. Ready to get it over with, he quickly grasped the doorknob and flung the door open to reveal his boyfriend.

Or it would have, had Dominic not been listening with an ear to the door. As it was, there was a rather solid and impressive thunk! when the wood door met the taller man’s head and Duke immediately released the doorknob in favor of covering his mouth with his hands.

Dominic had been listening the entire time, only able to make out bits and pieces of what was said - most of it from his boyfriend. He hadn’t been able to make out everything he said and that was mostly due to how close his ear was pressed against the door. He was on one knee and the murmurs of something about ‘this place being safe’, Duke introducing himself to whoever was at the door. Did someone come over that Duke didn’t know? Again, it was impossible to hear, much like his boyfriend walking towards the bedroom and aimlessly swinging the door open with force.

Only that force was met with a not so sturdy Dominic. He felt the impact hit his ear and his head, knocking him clear away from the door and on his ass.

“Oh my god, babe, are you okay?” Duke asked, “I’m so sorry, do you need some ice-”

Before responding, Doc gave a shaking thumbs up gesture. He wasn’t hurt that bad. As he slowly raised himself upward, he held the left side of his head and he didn’t feel anything wet, which meant no blood. “Good news! There’s no blood, so you didn’t whack me that hard.” He laughed, only to feel nothing but discomfort in his head. He might be called Doc, but he wasn’t the kind that went to med school. “So, out of curiosity, why swing it so fast?” He peeped through the opened door and saw some little girl who looked oddly familiar and he just waved to her, smiling gently.

"I didn't know you were gonna be standing right on the other side!" Duke defended, dropping to his knees to grasp Doc's face, checking his eyes and gently tilting his head every which way until he was satisfied that he hadn't concussed his lover. Releasing the breath he'd been holding, Duke finally silently declared Doc to be in good health. When the worry from that particular thought faded, it left room for a question of his own to form. "Wait, why were you so close to the door? Were you trying to listen in like some kinda old sitcom parent?" He took his hands, already conveniently on either side of Doc's face, and squished his cheeks together. "That shit don't work that easy, you dork."

Lorelai wasn’t like most young people. Some individuals that were left to their own devices would take the opportunity to be nosy and look around to gather information. Lala wasn’t like most people her age. She stood there, still holding the phone close to her chest, waiting for further instructions, not wanting to step out of line. As she stood there quietly, she reflected. She graduated highschool a couple of months ago. Her parents were there, pretending to be normal. People would go up to them and say how Pierce was such a tragic loss. He would’ve done amazing things. They were good at pretending. She was not, which is why she kept quiet. If she kept quiet, she wouldn’t have to lie.

Not too long ago she turned eighteen. Two days ago, actually. The day before Dear David. Her birthday was one of the days where her mother was more lenient of letting her out the house to spend time with friends. When she got in bad headspaces, it was hard to think about them because it was in those moments she felt more lonely than ever but now? As she heard two men, that she could only assume were lovers, playfully bicker, she thought of her friends and realized she had more reasons to better her life. To fight against her monsters. Bernie, Freya, Alaric, Alex… she had people that loved her. That was more than enough reason to carry on.

“It’s not like I intended to get whacked with a door. I didn’t know who would be at the door. I thought it might’ve been someone not as…tiny as the girl out there.” Dominic sighed and felt his head pulsate. His loving boyfriend had deemed him to be not brain damaged, but it felt like he was. Every breath he made felt like the migraine and the pain it came with was only getting worse the longer it went on. He might have to pay Dr. Sinclair a visit whenever he got the chance. “Anyway, now that it’s been established that I’ve got the common sense of the cast from Friends, who’s the girl? Is she okay?” From where he was and from what he could see, something was off but he couldn’t place his finger on it. Call it his sixth sense tugging at him or something like that.

Duke turned around to look at Lorelai and his hands retreated from Dominic's face on reflex, finding purchase on the doorframe as he stood back up before they were clasped behind his back like a kid caught touching something he shouldn't.

"Um, this is Lorelai- Lala. Lala this is Dominic he's uh," the Serpent Enforcer closed his eyes against the stupidity of what was about to come out of his mouth, especially given what the girl just saw, but he's been living with this secret for so long that the responses were practically ingrained. "He's a family friend and my neighbor."

’Please don't ask why I had him hiding in my bedroom. Play ignorant if you have to,’ he kept the plea from showing while taking a too-casual half step away from the doorway and wringing his hands behind his back, out of her sight.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Lala shyly replied, holding herself with proper posture and polite mannerisms. Gazing at them like authority figures, wide eyed and anxious, she rooted her feet to the ground. Her hands had dropped in front of her skirt as she tightly held onto the burner phone. “Sorry to have interrupted…” her deep, brown eyes went from one man to the next, understanding the situation but not wanting to comment on it. It wasn’t her place. “A woman named Samantha led me here and said I could find shelter. I…” she looked away from them, ashamed at her actions, knowing this would come to bite her in the ass later. Her melancholic gaze went from Dom’s face, straight to her feet like a forlorn, neglected animal who hasn’t had an ounce of kindness and love, the type you expect to get from family, in years. “...I don’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay. You weren’t interrupting anything at all.” Dominic gently smiled at Lorelai, seeing how she stood, how she acted, how she spoke. That off feeling he had from before that was just from a momentary glance increased and it made his stomach turn at the thought of what kind of torture she had to go through to be so…obedient with two people she barely even knew. “Samantha seems like she knew what she was talking about.” Dominic crouched down to Lorelai's eye level but didn’t advance any paces. Something told him he needed to go with caution. “She must care for you a lot. Lost Souls might not look like much, but it’s one of the safest places for anyone to live. We have good friends looking after us. Protecting us even when we don’t realize it. So you will be safe here, that much I can guarantee.” He spoke as softly as he could so she didn’t feel alarmed but not too soft so she heard every word he said.

“Good, I’m glad,” was all Lala could muster saying in response at first. All the nerves and anxiety that had gotten her to this point were now being formed into tears running down her cheeks. She was quick to back up and wipe her face, not realizing she even needed to cry. “Sorry, sorry,” she profusely apologized. “Thank you for being so kind to me. I know this is really weird,” she rambled, completely scatterbrained, “and I don’t know what I’m doing. I hope I’m not bothering you two… it’s just I don’t know what comes next. I never did this before. Maybe I’m making a mistake, maybe I’m being too impulsive. I could go back and apologize, maybe that will make everything better.”

"You're not bothering us," Duke reassured, his older brother instincts kicking back in as her tears started to fall, he made his way into the bathroom and came out with a roll of toilet paper, holding it out at arms length to her while apologizing, "Sorry, I don't really have tissue, but you can use this. And I'm sorry to say this, but it's pretty unheard of that returning and apologizing makes that-" he glanced at the bruises still showing on her wrists, no judgment in his tone, none of the anger he felt at seeing them showing on his features. "-any better. Usually it's just…more pain. If you're not comfortable here with us we understand, but please let us introduce you to some of the women that live here too. Maybe you have a friend we could call?"

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lala graciously took the toilet paper, sniffling as she placed the burner phone on the counter. Ripping a tiny piece of paper off to dab her face, she explained, “No one really knows about my situation. I’ve never told any of my friends and I don’t think I’m ready to tell them now. They’d feel bad for not noticing and I don’t want them to feel bad.” Instead of hugging the burner phone, she was now hugging the toilet paper. The fact that she was no longer holding the one thing that could protect her in this situation with two strangers, older men no less, showed she wasn’t scared of either of them. If anything, she felt safer here than anywhere else she’s ever been.

“I guess…” What would Kylee do? She asked herself internally, before offering an olive branch, “…We can start by getting to know each other better. And if you two are okay with me staying for a night, I can try to plan my next steps. I don’t want to meet new people and have to do this whole thing all over again.” She gave an exasperated sigh. “This was a lot for me to do but if I’m imposing then sure, we can find someone else,” Lala mustered to put a small smile on her face, which was still a little wet from tears, hoping she wasn’t being too demanding and they actually did want her to stay. “Whatever you guys think is best!”

“You’re not imposing, seriously, Lost Souls doors are always open to those who need help,” Duke reiterated to the newest lost soul herself. He looked back to Dominic and nodded him over to the couch, taking the seat next to him once he had sat down and looking to Lala, who was the last one standing. He hadn’t been questioning it before, figuring she didn’t want to be the one to sit down with two stronger strangers in the room, but now he realized she may not know what’s okay to do. He pointed to the plush and worn leather seat placed on the adjacent side of the coffee table to their right. “You can take a seat in the recliner there, the blanket over the back is really soft if you’d like to use it.”

With direction, Lala nodded and shuffled her way first to the blanket then to the seat. Getting herself situated, after placing her back pack at the foot of the chair and the toilet paper on the coffee table, she leaned back, pulling the blanket over her thin body. She placed a hand in front of her mouth and yawned into it. When she was comfortable, she surveyed the two older men before smiling and meeting Duke’s gaze, “Mr. Duke, you carry yourself differently when you’re around Mr. Dominic. I can tell there’s a lot of trust between you two.”

Whether they were platonic best friends or more, she knew she was lucky to be in their home. “I had someone I trusted too, with all my heart. He was my protector until Charlie decided to end that. But I know for him, I have to be strong. I have to protect myself.” As much trauma as Lala had gone through, she built enough power of will to articulate her words and her experiences. She didn’t go into too much detail about her own trauma but in time, with a trusted group of people, she was sure she’d get in a place where she could speak freely and let her story aid those who need to hear it. “I struggle though. I’m too weak to be a fighter and like, how do you fight something you’ve lived with most of your life? How do you fight monsters?”

Another person Charlie’s actions weighed on, of course. Duke couldn’t say he was surprised, almost everyone in town had some connection to those lost the day of the shooting. Charlie helped create a lot of lost souls himself. He didn’t quite know how to feel about her comment on him and Dominic, aside from the fact that it made him sweat a bit. If she could see that he acted differently around him and they just met, well, just how obvious was it to the people that knew them? Just how different did he act?

Tiberius Booker never liked different, much.

’How do you fight monsters?’

His father wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t a great man by any stretch, don’t get him wrong. The man was every type of phobic that you could be when it came to the queer community and the things Duke had heard him say about his mama after the divorce were nothing short of vile. The man had let his drinking get the best of him and his idea of what makes a man was strictly enforced in both of his sons. But Duke had been the one to be home when he stumbled in drunk after a long night, pissed about people he saw out and about with their loves that day. Duke was the one Tiberius could fix before he became a problem.

You can be a bad person without passing the threshold into monster. Tiberius toed the line often, but didn’t like to cross it. He wasn’t a monster like the parents of some of Duke’s Serpent siblings, but Tiberius Booker would not need to worry about overcrowding at his funeral service.

’How do you fight monsters?’

The truth is, Duke doesn’t know how to reply to Lala in this moment, because he’d never fought his monsters, let alone his father. He’d taken the closet doors he was meant to burst out of and pulled them closed tighter, adding locks to the inside so no one could get to him where he was most vulnerable. Duke never knew how to fight his demons, and he never knew how to stand up to people like his father. But he did know one thing, and that was that, “No one’s too weak to be a fighter. Sure you have people like me or Creed with obvious muscles and fighters’ builds, but then you’ve got people like my girl Emira, who’s deceptively soft looking but could put most fighters on the floor. She could honestly probably teach you some moves, and if not I could talk to Marce and Cela next time I’m at Phil’s. Maybe it’s a little less about fighting your monsters right now, and more about building your strength to do it in the first place,” He looked over to Dominic for validation. “That makes sense, right?”

That was a heavy question Lorelai asked. Monsters existed all over in all shapes, sizes, and colors. They were sometimes the devil you knew while others were less obvious and paraded as a friend, or somebody who was just trying to get into your good graces so they could hurt you when your back was turned. Dominic, in his life, had experienced all forms of those people. Listening to Duke talk about what it took to combat them, he didn’t realize it but he was nodding even before his boyfriend looked his way.

He smiled at Duke and then to Lorelai. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. I’m also not as great at conveying what you just said either. My brain goes woosh--” Dominic made the sound that an airplane makes when it’s taking off from the runway to emphasize what he just said, “--whenever I try to get my thoughts out. But everything Duke said is right. David took down Goliath with nothing but rocks and a sling, but he had the heart of an underdog and never gave up. That’s how ya beat whatever monster or demon you come across: by never giving up.” In that moment, Dominic had kind of realized he contradicted himself. Apparently he did know how to get his thoughts out when he wanted to.

Duke smiled at his boyfriend, realizing the same thing. He made an aborted movement to grab Dominic’s hand before he caught himself and played off of Dom’s words. “Everyone loves a good underdog story, and gaining the strength to fight your monsters, mental or physical, is a perfectly attainable idea. You’ve also already found me and Dom, and we aren’t exactly lone acts. You’ll have people in your corner if you want them there.”

The two lovers were so enthralled with one another that they didn’t notice the stranger they permitted in their apartment had dozed off, bundled in their fleece blanket. For once, Lorelei felt safe. The more they talked, the more her worries were put at ease and before they knew it, she faded and entered the land of dreams.

They were sweet men.

Maybe Lost Souls was the safest place in Edenridge. Maybe she could find a family here. She would have to thank Miss Samantha the next time she saw her. Her breathing was quiet and her posture, while more relaxed, was in a sitting position. Her head leaned back into the recliner as she imagined a bright, sunny day. No rain or cloud in the sky. No darkness to hide the monsters that only meant her harm. Just the sun and those that mattered. Mostly though, she thought of her brother.

“Oh,” Duke said softly as he turned his head to see the peaceful scene that now graced his rather sparse living room. For the first time since he laid eyes on her, Lorelai looked at peace, and as he was unwilling to disrupt it Duke stood quietly and locked the front door and then made his way over to the burner phone that their new charge had left on the counter. Opening it up, he copied the number into his own burner phone before setting the former down and sending off a short text to the mysterious Ms. Samantha with the latter.

Outgoing text:
She’s safe. Good Call.

He’d get more information later, and he’d make use of his Serpent siblings if needed, but right now he was looking forward to following Lala’s lead and taking a mid-day nap. He beckoned Dominic after him, motioning for him to stay silent, and once they’d both passed the threshold he closed and locked his bedroom door. At the same time, he closed the door on his thoughts of what excuse he could use if Lala catches them coming out of his bedroom together later. When they were laying down with Dom’s head on Duke’s chest and the younger man kissing apologies onto the pale man’s bruised temple, Duke let the shame for his actions take over again.

“I’m sorry I lied again,” Duke whispered, running his hand up and down Dom’s arm. He wasn’t fishing for any assurances from his boyfriend, and he didn’t want Dominic to kiss him and tell him it was okay. He wanted Dominic to be angry with him, because that would make sense. He would deserve that. Someone younger than him and having an actual life emergency was sleeping in his living room with no idea where she was going next, and he was in the next room warm and comfortable with a man he won’t call more than a family friend if there are any other living beings around.

Duke knew that what he told Lala was true; muscles aren’t what makes you strong. It can’t all be physical. He was a prime example of how weak a strong person could be. Duke didn’t want Dom to keep getting hurt waiting for him, the reserved middle child between the shadows of his siblings’ large personalities, the one that chose to get swept up under the Tide so his mama and sister didn’t have to. He was being selfish, keeping Dom hidden the way he was, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He wasn’t ready to face his demons tonight.

Dominic could hear it in his tone. He could feel it from the way Duke spoke to him. Even without saying it, he knew his boyfriend wanted him to lash out in some way. He knew Duke that well. He knew him so well that he didn’t require words to understand what his boyfriend was trying to say. As he sat up, breaking both of their hearts by breaking the comforting embrace, he was preparing himself for what was coming next as his heart palpitations increased the already high anxiety. He hated seeing Duke punish himself.

“Look at me, Ducaleon…” He grabbed his boyfriend’s hands, first running his fingers through each of Duke’s, he interlocked with them and squeezed gently. Knowing to make sure he didn’t speak too loudly, Dominic brought his head closer to Duke’s, pressing his forehead against his beloved’s. “There’s nothing you did today that requires any sort of apology. You helped make that girl feel safe enough to fall asleep in an apartment she has never been to. How can I possibly be mad at that?” Dominic kissed his boyfriend’s lips gently. “It doesn’t matter to me whether she or anyone else who wants to be privy to that information knows we are together together or if I’m just a family friend. What matters the most is I know what we have - us - together. That’s all I need. That’s all I want.” He kissed him again, still as gently as he could. “I love you so much, Ducaleon Booker. That will never change no matter what. I don’t care how long it is until we can be out in public. As long as I have you by my side, you’ll never have to go about it alone.” And he meant every single word. He meant it with his soul and with his heart.

Duke rested their foreheads back together again, closing his eyes and taking deep, shaky breaths while returning the tight pressure between their interlaced fingers. He wouldn’t cry. He knew he could if he wanted to- and god did he want to- without any judgment from Dom, but it didn’t feel right, even as the hot tears burned against his tightly shut eyelids. He loved Dom, he really loved Dom, so much that it hurt every time he locked his arms in place so he didn’t hug him in public, every time he hid the relationship he had with him. He was the one keeping it a secret, and he understood what Dom was telling him but it still felt like it was his fault and he couldn’t make that stop.

”Men don’t cry like little girls Ducaleon. You’re fifteen, grow the fuck up.”

He wouldn’t cry.

“You’re too good to me,” He finally replied, tilting his head to initiate the next kiss, desperate to show Dom the love he had for him. “I might never make it. I might not come out until dad dies. You’re too good to stay hiding in the dark with me,” He kissed Dom again and tasted salt, his next breath catching in his throat in panic as he realized he had started crying against his own wishes. “How can we know you won’t care a few years on? He might live to his nineties out of spite,” it was a hysterical statement, and idly Duke knew that his fears were coming out unfiltered, but there were days where even Dom’s unyielding understanding hurt because he refused to share it with the world because of a single person. The tears wouldn’t stop falling now that they’d started and he dropped his head to their combined hands, desperately trying to rub away the evidence of his weakness. “Why don’t you find someone strong like you? What is it about me? I don’t get it, how can this be enough for you? How can I be enough for you?”

Dominic felt a wildfire burning inside his chest. A fire that kept spreading the longer Duke spoke and the more words that came out of his mouth. This fire that was burning wasn't due to anything his boyfriend was saying -- not in any literal sense. He knew this wasn’t Duke talking. This wasn’t the man that he had known since he was a little kid, the boy that he’s been in love with most of his time on this earth. No, this was his father talking. This was Tiberius Booker’s bigoted views tainting Ducaleon’s imperfect perfect soul, making him feel so much shame. This is why Dominic loathed his boyfriend’s sperm donor. No real father would act like he does. No real man would feel shame or anything close to it just because they don’t abide by what he deemed “normal”.

If he were a fighter and Dominic sometimes wished that he was, he’d go to Tiberius’ home on Chestnut Street and wail at his face until he turned to ash. But he wasn’t that kind of fighter. He was a different breed of warrior. A warrior who believed in all the good the man whose hands he held in his own had in him. No amount of whatever damage that Tiberius did to him would ever change one key fact. “I have found someone strong, Ducaleon. You are strong. You make me strong. You have always made me strong. Ever since we were kids, you, Leone - both of you protected me, looked out for me in ways I couldn’t have dreamed. Your spirit, no matter what ever happened, gives me strength. I don’t need anyone else to know just how impeccable of a man you are.” He tightened his grip on Duke’s hands, stopping the man from roughly wiping his face while simultaneously giving some thought to what Duke asked.

When Duke asked him how he was sure he’d still care in a few years, the thought of it almost made his skin crawl. The doubt was fueling the fire of wrath that Dominic Wells held for Tiberius, but at the same time, it radiated with a light and warmth he has always held for Duke. “You ask how can I be sure I’ll care in a few years? It’s simple. I’ve loved you since we were kids, Duke. Long before either of us had any idea you would reciprocate my feelings. You know I’ve always known I was into guys. I didn’t try and hide it. It’s probably why some kids thought I was an easy target or something.” He chuckled, thinking back about everything he endured. “Being out at such a young age was such a dangerous thing, especially where we grew up. I was bullied almost every day. If it wasn’t for you and Leone, I doubt…” He choked up. He felt his throat tighten and his stomach, too. He took in a deep breath, looking at Duke for the strength that he always managed to get whenever he met those beautiful brown eyes of his. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hands even more as a single tear fell down his right eye. “You are more than enough for me. Every day I am reminded of this more and more and every day, I fall in love with you just as much.”

Duke tore his hands from Doc’s grasp only to throw his arms around the man before him, tears halting now as held firm onto his lover. Doc reminded Ducaleon of things he did, of strength he had, every time he started to doubt himself. Sometimes Duke wished he had the automotive genius’ steadfast ability to remember all the good things Duke has done in his life, but the unfortunate fact is that the the middle Booker sibling was taught to focus on the worst parts of himself and even years removed from his father’s home, the influence still invaded every aspect of his life. Dominic Wells had long been an opposing influence in his life, praising what Tiberius scorned as faults, inserting delightful counterpoints to his father’s words whenever they fell from Duke’s lips like gospel. Dominic taught him a new gospel. No disrespect to his mama, but Dominic would always be the person he loved to hear preach the most. He spoke with a passion and surety that Duke himself hadn’t been able to hold on to since his parents’ divorce, and when the other man focused those words on him Duke could actually start to believe the things he said. Believe that he was worthy.

The darker man pulled back from his intense bear hug and captured Dominic’s lips in a fervent kiss, as if he could swallow the beautiful speeches that came from that mouth and absorb them into his being. He pulled back for breath and cradled his lover’s reddening face in his large hands, taking the moment to wipe the tear track from Dom’s cheek with the pad of his thumb before surging forward to kiss him again. He shifted around on his knees until Dom’s back was facing the pillows and dropped his hands from his lover’s face to his shoulders, pushing him back slowly but firmly.

“I love you,” He whispered against the pale man’s lips once he’d settled him back completely on the pillows. “I love you,” he mouthed against his throat as he trailed his lips down in a scattered trail. “I love you,” he preached as he looked back up to the man who was looking down at him with his hair fanned across the pillow beneath him like a halo. This man had always been a saint in his eyes, the kind that really mattered to people like Duke and his older brother Leone, the one with patience and understanding that most people could only strive for. When Duke felt like a sinner, he looked into Dominic’s eyes to be saved, confessed into his lips and breathed in forgiveness when their mouths met. He drew himself back up to his boyfriend’s face, arms supporting himself on either side of Dom’s head, and confessed, “I love you so fucking much,” before capturing Dom’s lips once more.

With every kiss and every word of compassionate affirmation that left Duke’s lips, it brought Dom closer to a state of bliss. Even before he was guided on his back to lay back on his boyfriend’s bed, there was a moment before it all that made his heart swell with an unspeakable, too-complex to put into words kind of happiness. A joy that made him smile. And then to hear the words after every kiss. To feel it with everything that Duke had poured into him, he just looked up at his boyfriend. He tried to hide it, but the overflowing emotions poured out in a few more tears. He was overjoyed.

And he kissed Duke back, trying his best not to make any noise - which was a lot more difficult than he thought it was. Dominic, while mostly soft by all rights, was a passionate lover too. “Duke..I want you to take me. But we can be quiet about it, right?” At that moment, Dominic chuckled, understanding just what he was asking. With the girl sleeping in their living room, was it too risky? Perhaps, but Dom also didn’t want to stop. Not yet. “I want to show you how much I love you too, Duke…” He kissed his boyfriend tenderly, hands running down Duke’s back slowly.

Duke shivered at Dominic’s light touch, the other man’s fingers leaving trails of heat down his back. Dominic was right that they’d need to be quiet, but despite this being the closest they’ve ever come to risking getting caught, Duke couldn’t find it in himself to deny the wants of either of them right now. Pressing down on the man beneath him, Duke snuck his arm beneath his boyfriend and slid his hand down the back of his sweatpants, staking his claim by squeezing his butt and bringing Dom up to meet him.

“We can be quiet,” He agreed, voice heavy and eyes dark as they trailed down Dom’s naked and flushed form, the shrine he would forever worship at. “I really want to treat you so right you scream my name, but we can be quiet,” He captured Dom’s lips again and made quick work of relieving him of any other clothing that could get in the way, leaving his light touch everywhere he could. “Who am I to deny you, after all,” He grabbed both of Dom’s slender wrists with one hand and raised them above his head, devouring every part of his lover with his gaze and letting him see how much he was affecting him. Slowly leaning down until his lips were right near Dom’s left ear, he breathed out, “I never could tell you no, could I?”

Moments like these were always hard to watch. Their pain masked behind a smile, the Deere-Echohawk twins watched their mother as she picked berries and placed them in her basket. They watched their mother slip away every day, her memory of them fading, and as much as they wanted to show they were hurting, they couldn’t. Certainly not in front of her and not in front of the village they called home.

That was the downside of being their father’s children. They had pride and didn’t want to be seen as weak. Add their mother’s genetics, and now they were prideful warriors who felt obligated to care for everyone else but themselves. The twins knew how to survive, and survive they would. Through love and patience, they were determined to keep bringing their mother back, as many times a day as she needed them to, no matter how heartbreaking it was to them.

To those on the outside, they wouldn’t know how bad Elizabeth was getting but to her direct family and to the Coldwinds, they saw the photograph book of her mind losing its pictures, its memories. There was a link to some old PTSD traumas, unresolved pains, and false-guilt that could no longer be repressed. A past the twins knew nothing about seeing how their parents focused on the precious moments and taking care of the village rather than harboring on their personal histories unless it was meant for a story.

Elizabeth wasn’t completely gone. She was still there and the twins were adamant of finding things to bring her back, like the books she shared with their father, that brought a combination of happiness and deep memory. She still remembered her daily routine, especially when it was time to go and read to the kids. It seemed everything at the beginning of her life was all still there, what seemed to be fading was them. And maybe it’s because they were just like their father in so many ways.

It wasn’t until Elizabeth called her son by his father’s name, Bright Star, that Tennessee couldn’t hold it together. It didn’t take too long to convince her mother to start walking back home. Her mother kept calling her Komeha’e, which was the Chief’s first wife. Someone that Elizabeth clearly held dear. With the help from Kerry, getting back on track and shifting gears was quick and easy. He spoke in her mother’s poetic language, which was storytelling, and talked about the many horses he tended to. As they walked down the path, further and further away from the strawberry field, Ten was given the space he needed to sit in his emotions.

In time, they returned to the cabin and Winnie was able to get her mother comfortable in the living room to watch her cartoons until she fell asleep. When she finally did fall asleep, Winnie tucked her mother in, kissed her forehead and tiptoed outside. Going on the porch, where Kerry was waiting, she joined him and leaned her head on the column. She had to go to work soon. “Sorry about that. I don’t think Ten’s ever going to forgive himself for almost crying in front of you.”

“It ain’t less manly to cry in front of another man.” It was strange to see how different people treated dementia. Kerry had seen it first hand when he was younger. He witnessed the early signs with his grandfather and the full thing with his sister's ex boyfriend Walker’s father. It was a hell of a thing for everyone involved: a slow way to die and a slow way to watch someone die. He had borne the sight of people being treated with tenderness and care, like a newborn babe. Yet here on the Rez, Elizabeth was treated the same, albeit with that extra care. It was fascinating.

Since his arrival at Blue Hill, Kerry had tried to keep to himself and just focus on the horses he had been asked to tame and take care of. He enjoyed spending time with his long lost mother and stepfather, as well as their new family. He made friends like Tank and Rio but he found that he was linked deeper with the Echohawks, Tennessee and especially Winona. She was, to him, a light in a dark room. The minute he saw her riding on her horse with Fallon down the Main Street he knew he had to know her.

Every night, Kerry waited until closing time at Aponi’s Heart for Winnie to finish her shift and he would offer to walk her home. And every night he did that, she would say no. Until the day she didn’t. On that day, Elizabeth had taken a bad turn and Winnie definitely needed someone to lean on. So Kerry was there, as a friend, which he was happy to be. For her, he would be whatever she wanted him to be.

“The amount of men I saw bawl in their bunks or whose tears I watched dry up instantly in the desert. It can’t really be fathomed and it’s my something to judge by.” Tipping his hat up and resting his foot on the bottom stair of the Echohawk cabin, the cowboy looked upwards at the incomprehensible beauty of the native girl with a half smile, his lip curled to one side. “And how’re you doing?”

“Processing, I guess,” Winona shrugged, speaking earnestly and from the heart. Truth be told, she didn’t know how she should feel and if she were sad, she wouldn’t know until she was already crying. Emotions hit her hard and suddenly. Even before her father passed away she was like this. Her mind was wired in a way where her priorities were at the forefront and everything else? Like her sadness? Placed in a cupboard, forgotten until it decided to come out on its own. Until then, Winnie made sure to keep a good head on her shoulders, or at least, she tried to.

“I know I’m sad but I can’t feel it much,” she admitted, gently peering down at the man who occupied most of her mind most days. “I imagine when things start slowing down, it’ll all come crashing in. At least I hope so…” she trailed off, wondering if it was weird that at this moment in time she couldn’t feel the dread that haunted her brother. She hadn’t cried since her father died and maybe this was her way of building walls. A way to protect herself from pain. There was sadness in her eyes but a clear disconnect from her mind and heart. Winnie was never good at processing grief well. “Should I be sad? More so than I am, I mean.”

“Everybody processes everything differently.” Kerry admitted as he professed a further step up the old wooden porch. “Some people can’t get real emotional, like a Mama. She’s wilder than a hurricane. My little sister and cousin are like that too.” He took a further step forward until he was standing next to the raven haired beauty and rested his hat on a nearby table. “My Dad, he had some loss. You know? More than any man probably should and he would lash out in this rage. It was a wildfire burning any living thing on the prairie.” He ran his forever dirt stained hands through his dirty blonde hair, shaking away the summer sweat. “I think you’ve experienced a devastating loss before and because of that, you’ve closed your heart to feeling it again because you need to let everybody else feel it first.”

Kerry placed his hand on Winnie’s back and offered to her the gift of a full smile. “And that’s ok, you know? Certain people feel what they need in the quiet moments. In the silence they let the weight of their pain be carried off by the wind. Problem is, the wind always brings it back unless you find someone to share the weight with.”

Feeling his tender touch on her back, Winona locked her brown eyes with his, carefully listening to him. Kerry was the type of handsome that radiated from his heart-loving soul. The girls on the reservation would only see who he is at face value, and he was handsome, don’t get her wrong. Just by his face alone, he had all the features that would make any girl swoon but when Winnie looked at him, she never turned away from his stare. Never let her gaze wander. She focused on the depth of his eyes to the Cowboy twang and pleasant expressions of his voice. She focused completely on him like he was the most important person to her, like he was her world and without him, she wouldn’t know what she’d do.

That was how Winnie made people feel. She made them feel special. She gave them her undivided attention and put them first, before herself. Even if what she had with Kerry was likely different, she wouldn’t see it until it came crashing in. That’s just how she was. That’s how she always was. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve known you all my life. You’ve been on the Res for how long now?” The question was mostly rhetorical. She had a long day so she wasn’t going to drop a guess. She just knew it would be weird if he suddenly left and she didn’t have him to go to.

Their friendship started off as walks from Aponi’s to her house and slowly progressed into more and now, when they were apart she felt his absence and missed him. Missed him far more than she’d ever say out loud. Truth be told, she didn’t understand how he became so important to her but he did and she knew without him, she would feel this deep sadness that she presently tries to avoid whenever she can. The closer she got to him, the more vulnerable she felt. She didn’t know if she liked it. “Once upon a time we were strangers and now you’re the person I’m most comfortable with. It’s… hard to explain.”

“I don’t think it needs to be explained.” Kerry looked out across the open fields that sat before the Echohawk house and spread out towards the Blue Hill Reservation. It was tranquil here. Soft wind blowing through well manicured brush and whistling across the distant tree line. He had grown up in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains and the Yellowstone, deep in the Wyoming territory where buffalo graze and blades of grass could change to specs of sand or mounds of snow in a single step. Yet there was something different about Blue Hill. Something special and magical. It helped wash away the trouble or perhaps it was the people? “It is what it is and we are what we are. Don’t need no more explaining than that.”

He returned his gaze to the beguiling indigenous woman and brushed a strand of her jet black hair behind her ear. “You feel whatever you need to, whenever you need to. Nobody got the right to judge you. You’re entitled to be who you are.”

There were times, times like these, that Kerry Casey left Winona absolutely speechless. They say looks can be deceiving but when she looked at him, she knew that he was who he was, no excuses. Smiling at him in response to his gesture, she subtly leaned into his hand before turning away to look at the pastures, the fields and the land, just like he was doing seconds before. She crossed her arms, deep in thought. The silence between them was welcomed because they had each other and there wasn’t always a need for words. Their presence alone did all the talking for them.

When she was ready, she spoke up, “Ten’s going to graduate soon and follow my dad’s footsteps.” She remembered when her brother brought it up, this dream he didn’t want to let go, anxious at her reaction, knowing this was a sore spot for her. “I know we need more lighthorsemen, and my brother is driven. Once he sets his mind on something, he commits and goes above and beyond. I just…,” her voice trailed off, thinking back on her 21st birthday, the gunshots echoing in her mind. “My dad hasn’t been gone for that long and I don’t know if I could handle losing Ten like that.”

Kerry sighed a little through his nose before his hands traveled from the Win’s lower back to her shoulder, his other hand soon followed as he supported her. “I think you can handle more than you believe you can.” He let his calloused fingers add some reassuring pressure to her shoulders. “You’re strong but don’t feel like you have to force yourself to be. It makes sense to be frightened, to be scared. Hell, I'm scared too. Ten’s an idiot.” A soft laugh escaped from the ranch hand’s mouth. “But he’s a good man, with a good heart and a big appetite for life. He’s about to enter a dangerous part of his life but also one of the most rewarding. To protect one’s fellow man, it ain’t something to be taken lightly. It’s the highest honor there is.”

He would be lying if he had said he had joined the rangers to protect his fellow man. Kerry had only enlisted to escape from the clutches of Blackhat and the Outlaws. Yet had found a purpose in the deserts of war. He had found a sense of duty and responsibility. Better than most, the cowboy could understand Ten’s desire to do more and he knew that it would do wonders for his best friend by giving him pieces of himself that he was missing. Still, that didn’t change the fact that finding oneself might mean hurting pieces of others. Kerry had lost track of the lives he had taken in pursuit of victory but had not lost track of the people at home he hurt along the way. His mother and sister were those that suffered the most.

Taking a chance, Kerry wrapped his arms around Winona’s upper body and held her safely in his arms as they looked out across the sea of green. “Plus Fallon is terrifying and will protect him better than anyone else ever could.”

He was right. Fallon was a force of nature that no one but Pava could go up against. Growing up with those two, she always felt like she was chasing after them, to keep up with the amount of sheer will they had to achieve whatever they set their minds on. They refused to be underestimated or taken for granted. They refused to let men look down on them. They refused to be seen as less then. They refused to be seen as weak. Strong women they were, and to this day, Winnie looked up to them.

Time and time again, Fallon and Pavati would tell her that strength was more of a mindset than anything and while they had physical strength, what she had was spiritual strength. Since she was little, Winnie had sharp senses that only grew as she blossomed into a beautiful woman, full of light, love and compassion. Within her, there was stillness and a sanctuary, as she felt everything around her deeply. For her, life only made sense because she saw it as a mystery and didn’t try to conceptualize and search for the meaning. When you quiet the mind, the soul will speak and that is how she’s chosen to live her days. Quietly, with love as her compass.

When Kerry wrapped his arms around her, she wasn’t taken by surprise. Winnie wondered if she should’ve been but him holding her close, like she was something worth protecting, felt natural. It felt right. Everything about them felt connected from the first day they looked into each other’s eyes to now as they stood in the silence of nature. “Do you consider yourself a protector, Kerry?” she breathed, leaning her head against him so she could feel his warmth.

“I try to be.” Kerry rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her scent of wildflowers. “There’s a lot of stuff in my life that I wish I could’ve protected more or maybe even differently but you just gotta play the cards you're dealt, you know?” He thought back through significant moments in his life, where metaphysical road split and he chose one way rather than the other. He thought about his father and their ranch. His mother and her desperate plea to escape. In the midst of it all his little sister and cousins, whom he shielded for years from a fury that rivaled a God. Kerry could see the face of every soldier that died by his side, of every insurgent starting down the barrel of his gun. When he slept, his penance, haunted in his dreams for the choices he made, for being a protector. “All I know is if I’ve got something worth protecting, I’ll hold it until I can’t no more.”

Kerry gently kissed the back of Winnie’s head. “All I know is Ten definitely has something worth protecting. This place, these people, you. If I were him, ain’t nothing stopping me from watching out. Cos you’re worth protecting. I’d shoot down the devil himself if he rode down these borders.”

Another silent response.

Winona pondered, wondering if her next question was worth asking. She wanted to know. She didn’t know why but she wanted to hear his response. Cocooned by his protective nature, feeling the tangible thread in the air that linked them together, she wondered what their shared truth was. They danced around each other and their feelings and then had profound experiences like this, where she felt emotionally vulnerable, anxious and safe, all at the same time. Her voice was soft, nearing a hushed tone, as she finally spoke, taking her own risk, albeit verbally, “What about love? Do you have someone worth loving?”

This moment was filled with something he could not explain. As they shared a warm embrace and words of encouragement and support and ethereal meaning, the topic turned to love. Kerry was no fool. He knew where the sharp edge of the question was pointed; directly at his heart. She wanted to hear him say the words. Words that held the most meaning and could mean a thousand different things to an infinite amount of people.

“I do.” His eyes fell upon her face as he spoke. “I have someone who is rarer than any jewel. She’s more beautiful than the night sky and wilder than a stampede of buffalo charging down some unfortunate that has crossed their path.” There could be no doubt in her mind, she had to know he was talking about her. Kerry had loved her from the moment he landed at the Reservation. That first night in Aponi’s where Winnie threatened to kick him out if he caused any nonsense cowboy shit. “And you? Do you have someone?”

“Mhm, I do,” Winnie confessed, reciprocating Kerry’s devotion that she knew boiled inside him for a while now. “He came on steed not like a chivalrous knight but as a troubled man, burdened by his past.” She shifted herself so that she could get a better look at his face, not wanting to say anymore without him seeing that she meant every word. Days went by and now they could share them together. There was no one else she would rather share her time with than Kerry Casey.

Maybe, what they had needed no explanation. Maybe, what they had was all they needed to define their truth. Maybe, what they had was exactly what was meant for them. A love so profound it would last even after they died, just like the love her parents had that her mother grasped onto each day to not lose herself to her disease. Everlasting and their’s. Something that inspired them to fight and keep going. Something not worth letting go. Something that would make her father proud that she found, all on her own, when she wasn’t even looking.

It is what it is. We are what we are.

She couldn’t have said it any better.

“He admits to his faults and shortcomings and strives to be a better version of himself,” Winnie tenderly smiled up at him, throwing caution to the wind to speak from the heart. Something she was afraid to do, out of fear of replacing her father. “Like the warmth of the all-encompassing sun, he shines on me. Like the changing wind that touches everything, he moves those around him forward. He came to me and put me between my life and expectations. He came to me in a dream, and I’m grateful,” she gazed into his eyes, her heart exposed and open for him to grab. She adored him. There was no way he could think otherwise. She loved him. “I’m grateful he found me and I found him.”

With a hand on either side of her face, Kerry leaned down to kiss the smaller woman who was radiating love from her body in his arms. He had wanted to feel her lips on his for so long and now they had it. As they merged into one, the fire in his soul and electricity in his blood exploded in an eruption of elements. He backed her against the support pillar of the porch when he felt her give herself more to him. During a break in the kiss, Kerry brushed her hair away from her face and look deep into those big dark eyes. “Is this what you want?”

“You, Kerry,” Winona cupped his face, and at his lips’ touch she blossomed. “I want you.” There was a rush of helplessness inside her as she yielded to her desires. A rare thing for her. She felt herself weak in his hold as he supported her, and directed her body, pressing it against the pillar. There were wild tremors along her nerves as she insisted on another kiss. Drawing him in with her gaze, she laid her mouth on his and surrendered to this sensation. Surrendered herself to him. There was a sudden and abrupt thought that interrupted her yearning to get completely lost in the moment. Anxiously, she pulled away and revealed, “I’ve never been with anyone else.”

Kerry smiled reassuringly towards Winona and made sure to give her the space she needed. “We don’t have to do anything.” He took a step back and placed his hands in his pockets. “We can take this as slow as you want.” He tilted his head and allowed himself to smile fully, a true rarity when it came to Kerry Casey. “But I want you to know, I’ll always wait. I ain’t going nowhere. I’ve wanted you from the minute I got here, I can wait as long as it takes.”

He was saying all the right words. Winnie knew he meant what he said and yet, her heart sank when he backed away from her, which ended this dream just as quickly as it started. It was her fault for admitting her lack of experience and now he was respecting her boundaries, which was the right thing to do. She knew it was the right thing to do but then why did she feel a painful sadness like she did something wrong? “You have a handsome smile, Kerry,” Winnie whispered, before putting her walls back up.

She considered to herself that maybe this was a mistake and it was too soon for them to have taken a chance. If she had just kept quiet and not talked about what was on her mind, she wouldn’t have felt those things and wouldn’t have known how his lips felt. She was so stupid to think this was the right time and that he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. He was a gentleman and that was a good thing. She should be more understanding. She was good at understanding the wants and needs of others. If he thought space was what they needed, then that’s exactly what she’d give.

Pulling her phone out of her back pant’s pocket, she checked the time and sighed in relief at a clear escape from this situation. “Thank you. For this,” she smiled, easing her way past him, walking to the front door of her house, “I need to get ready but I’ll see you later?”

“I’ll be there before closing time.” Kerry took a step closer to her, the smile still plastered on his handsome face. “Somebody’s gotta walk you gone right?” He moved forward, placing his hand atop hers which was gripping the open door and kissed her again. Now that he had tasted the fruit of his love, he would take every chance he could to have it again. Leaning back, his nose grazed hers as he looked into those pretty dark eyes. “If you can’t see me, I’ll be at the table at the back.” Kerry turned and picked up his hat, placing it back upon his head. “Just watching someone worth protecting and someone worth loving.”

“I’ll see you tonight,” she softly responded, her knees growing weak at the second kiss. She needed some time with herself to tune into her emotions, and see what was the best way of moving forward. She was anxious, which could be felt in her throat and through her veins. He wasn’t going to change his routine and the signs were all there, he wanted her. Yet why did she care so much about how badly he wanted her?

Helpless and confused, she watched him walk away. When he was down her porch and nearing her mailbox, she closed the door, hiding her terrified face as the nerves ate at her. Resting her forehead on the door, she muttered, “How am I going to focus tonight?”

With her headsets on, listening to C’est La Vie by Weathers, Amberly Elliott stared out the window of the passenger seat of her father’s vehicle as they made their way to Edenridge Psychological & Wellness Services, PLLC. Her green eyes boredly scanned the area of her new home. The only time she had to be in Edenridge was for Horsemen practice and games but now due to her parents' ongoing marital issues, she’d be staying long term with her father. Away from her friends. Away from her life. Away from what was normal.

Most of her friends were in Pinehurst which was just a hop, skip and a jump away if she took an uber or stopped procrastinating and got her license. But that really wasn’t the point, was it? The point was her dad thought it was a wonderful idea to go back to his hometown where there was a mass shooting that happened only what? Two years ago? A place known for psychos, killers, and gang violence. The most Pinehurst had was rich people backstabbing one another and throwing their money around to fix their problems. All that was dull in comparison to Edenridge stories.

As for her mother, she wasn’t taking this court mandated order well. She worked more than her father, and because of her health record, it made sense for the primary guardian of Amber to be him, even if without her, they wouldn’t be able to afford the lifestyle they lived. There was a time where her dad was a hockey star, making bank and winning praise. The prime of his life and her mother worshiped the ground he walked on. Then he suffered from an injury and her mother had to pick up on hours and rearrange their dynamic, making big moves so that she, her lover, and child would never have to worry about instability. That came with the price of her own mental health falling.

Somewhere along the way, they forgot why they loved each other and their days were filled with countless, pointless arguments. They danced in circles stabbing each other verbally until both just gave up, resigning from the fight to be alone. Amber knew when they were alone they both fell apart and that’s because both wouldn’t shut the fuck up and actually listen to each other. Sighing in annoyance, she laid her head back and closed her eyes, letting the music drown everything out.

This was her life now.

C’est la vie.

Curt was under no delusions about his family's situation. The next phase of their lives was make or break. It was becoming increasingly more difficult for him and Holly to remain cordial and civil when in a room together, which was a god awful shame. Curtis loved her with all of his heart, he had most of his life. She stood by him when he was an amateur, desperate to go pro. She stood by him when he was at the peak of the sport and she stood by him when he was at his lowest ebb, unable to play the game he loved and watching as he was forced to say goodbye to a piece of himself. God, how did it come to this?

He remembered seeing her for the first time; it was high school and he was coming off the ice before the end of practice because his cousin Gray needed him. Gray had some issues with his brain and sometimes he needed an anchor to weigh him back down onto reality. Curtis was that anchor most of the time. As he was departing the ice, Curt saw the brunette girl in the bleachers, her head in a text book and she was wearing a light summer dress. Why she was dressed like that in the middle of December he didn’t know. What he did know delm that moment was that he was going to marry her and she was going to have his children. Which she did when Holly gave birth to Amber, his heart.

“Alright sweetie, we’re here.” Curt pulled the car up outside the therapist's office, directly behind Holly’s car. He turned and looked at his daughter, lost in her own world as she listened to music. He really didn’t want to hurt her but he knew that he was. How could he not be? Curtis and Holly were on the brink of divorce, they were in and out of litigation and Amber was stuck in the middle. It made him question where he was even a good father.

Glancing at her dad and reading his lips, Amber didn’t say anything in return. Instead, she left the car and shuffled to the therapy clinic with her father catching up swiftly. Once they went through the reception desk and all the necessary protocol steps, like if they had the proper insurance on record, they waited in the lounge for a couple minutes before one of the administrative assistants came to retrieve them. As they were led to their designated therapists, Amber glanced into a room, colorful and designed like a daycare, to see a brunette woman who carried herself shrewdly yet lovingly talk to a little girl, who held tightly onto a pure white teddy bear. The plaque beside the door frame said: Lydia Anderson, PHD PSYD.

In time, Amber was directed one way and her father was taken the other. There she saw an older asian woman waiting for her expectantly. Shannon Ramsey was her name and if she thought she would get her to talk, she had another thing coming.

God, she hated therapy.

Walking around the family therapist’s office, Holly Elliott, the architect of the upcoming Hotel Encanto, took in her surroundings as Ms. Jennifer Jennings prepared chamomile and lavender herbal tea to calm her client’s nerves. Holly grabbed a picture off the desk to see the other woman tightly hugging a boy, a boy that looked familiar. The kid looked like a little dweeb, and there was no doubt he got picked on at school. Even with that being said, there was one thing she could acknowledge. He was loved fiercely by his mother.

Where did she see this kid before?

Taking a moment to think on that, Holly put the picture frame down and continued to observe the person that was her psychologist by examining her room. Greenery was particularly placed to give the room a sense of growth, capturing the essence of nurture while promoting relaxation and creativity. There were gentle colors that popped throughout the room too. That was a tell tale sign that the person who designed this room had a bright, sunny disposition. Holly’s eyes continued to wonder at the artwork. Another splash of personality.

It’s when we start working together that the real healing takes place — David Hume.

Scoffing at that and taking a seat on the three person sofa, Holly dressed in all white inhaled and exhaled as she stood out like a sore thumb. Glancing at her watch, she impatiently clicked her tongue. Examining her manicure nails, she wondered to herself if she simply left, how bad would that look on her? These sessions were mandatory, which was stupid and a waste of her time. Quite frankly she didn’t want to be here. It wasn’t even a session her daughter would be in. Once Amber got here she would go straight to Shannon Ramsey for a one on one session, where she can talk freely away from her parents.

Why would they do that?

Her time already was limited with her daughter and now they wanted her to have separate counseling? Anything her daughter had on her mind, she could say to her. There was no need to have secrets in this family. Let alone, separate sessions to talk about emotion and whatever bullcrap they’re trying to sell.

“Sorry for the wait! But I’m back now,” Jennifer gleamed, entering her office. She held a tray of a couple of tea cups and with a bounce in her step, she made her way to her side table. Placing the tray on it, she proceeded to give her client her tea. It wasn’t until Holly grabbed the porcelain glass that she recalled who the boy was. Curtis’ star player’s best friend. Oliver. She remembered seeing this woman at horsemen games. It all made sense now.

With the sudden realization that her husband might be friends with their therapist and that treatment might go in his favor, yet again, Holly straightened her posture and gave a charming smile, masking her irritation, “Do you like your job?”

“Pardon?” Jenny grabbed her own tea, caught unaware. Taking a seat on a solo chair across from the beautiful woman, Jenny curiously waited for a response.

“Your job. Is it fulfilling?” Holly motioned at the room with her free hand and proceeded to probe. “It mustn’t be easy, trying to fix everyone’s problems.”

“Oh,” the compassionate and serene woman smiled, taking a quick sip of her drink before placing it down on the coffee table. Clasping her hands together, she perked up and shook her head, “I don’t fix problems, Mrs. Elliott—”

“Holly.”

“Holly,” Jenny repeated, giving her an apologetic glance. “I’m here to help explore your thoughts that affect your emotions and experiences, focusing on your marriage and your family. I want to help you and your husband—”

“Don’t call him that,” the bitter woman dressed in white rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue once more. After putting her tea down untouched, she leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs and arms, defensively. Holly continued to sharply watch Jenny. Stubborn and perturbed. She listened attentively but begrudgingly.

“Sorry, um… father of your child?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Okay, well, I aim to help you heal and in order to do that, I want to guide you through your vulnerability, and unpack anything you need to with Curtis and together we will process the hurt and figure out how we’re going to move forward.” Jenny fiddled with her hands. Abentminded, she reached for her cup again and took another sip. Nursing it in her grasp, she let her smile never fade. It was tender and loving. Her eyes filled with understanding.

Holly was quick to catch Jenny calling Curt by his first name. They were definitely friends and he likely pulled strings so that they didn’t have some rando giving them therapy sessions. Of course this shit would be biased and in his favor. He couldn’t stand risking someone liking her more than him.

“I do find it fulfilling by the way,” Jenny added.

“What?” Holly gave her a perplexed expression, having already forgotten her own words and was now focused on her hate for the man that was stealing her baby away.

Jenny cleared her throat. “You asked me earlier if this job was fulfilling. It is. When people get to a place where their damage no longer controls their lives, I can’t help but smile for their happiness and their success. As a parent myself, I don’t want any of my unresolved issues to impact how my son sees me and I’m sure you understand that better than anyone.”

Instead of saying anything in return, Holly silently acknowledged the other woman’s wise words with a nod. They sat there drinking their tea in the calm, in the silence. The silence was driving Holly mad to the point she couldn’t contain her temper. Abruptly, she hissed, “Where the fuck is he?” If she could make it on time, why couldn’t he?

“Sorry I’m late Jen!” Curtis entered the room swiftly. He paused at the door as he watched Amber ascend the stairs behind it towards Shannon Ramsey’s office. He gave his daughter a little wave before closing the door. “Had a last minute conference call at work.” The former pro hockey player strode into the office and took a seat next to his wife. “Hi Holly, it’s good to see you. You look great.” He didn’t know what the correct procedure was in this instance. Curt wanted to be nice and keep things friendly despite their issues, they were still a family, they still had a daughter and he wanted to make sure that whatever happened between them that Amber was taken care of.

Jen.

That was more casual than she anticipated. Holly forced a smile on her face as she greeted the man that just entered the room. “You too.” She was wasting her goddamn time sitting in this office if her therapist was fucking her husband. “Okay, can we begin, please? I have a meeting shortly after this that I can’t miss. It’s for my biggest project yet.”

“Of course!” Jenny freed her hands from tea and gestured for the man to take a seat near his wife. Holly made sure to sit on the end so there was space in between them. “You two sound awfully busy but I’m glad you’re making time to come here and talk with me.”

“Not like we have a choice,” Holly grumbled under her breath.

There she went. Acidic would be a great way to describe Holly’s tongue when she was in one of her moods, although Curt had learned recently that that’s not what he should refer to them as. His wife had some serious problems going on inside of her and him being passive about them did not help. “We want to do the work, Jen. We both want what’s best for Amber and to do that we need to find some stable footing between us.” He looked over to his wife and reached out his hands, resting it between them on the couch. Curtis didn’t expect her to take it but he wanted her to know that the option was there. “So where should we start?”

When Curt offered his hand, there was an impulse in Holly to immediately take it. She wanted to take it so badly and she wanted to go home. Even with how desperate she wanted her husband back, she knew she needed to be strong and show him she could stand on her own. That she wasn’t weak and that she didn’t need his support. The two voices inside her head were arguing and while the noise grew louder, she focused on Jenny, uncrossed her arms and held her own hands, clasping them tightly, desperately together and resting them on her lap. She was going to be okay. She needed to be so the court could see she was not a danger to her husband and her child. Her core was shaken at such a small gesture and all she could think about was when this session would end so she could leave and breathe. She couldn’t breathe being this close to him.

“Well let me piggy back off of that, what are your expectations coming here? You want what’s best for your child, but what else? How definite is your end result?” Jenny looked between the couple. Her eyes fell on Holly, who surprisingly kept quiet, not wanting to answer first, scared to be so openly vulnerable in front of a stranger.

Curt brushed some of his salt and pepper hair back before looking over towards Holly. It was unlike her to be as quiet as she was being. She was usually so forceful, like a hurricane. She swept up everything in her path, she took no prisoners and she made sure you knew that she was that bitch. That was the Holly that he was madly in love with. The Holly that sat with Curt now, she wasn’t that person. “I guess for me, I want us to work this out and be a family again.” He moistened his lips as the dry mouth that came from nervousness began to take hold. He wasn’t used to being so upfront with his wants, needs and feelings. “And I know that it’s a journey and can’t happen overnight, so I’m willing to do the work. But I’ve also made peace with the fact that if we can’t be together, we need to find some way of being there for Amber. She needs us.”

Jenny nodded at Curt and unlike other counselors, she didn’t write anything down. She gave them her undivided attention. “And you Holly?”

“I’m not an easy woman to love,” Holly admitted, her tone layered with sadness and venom, all in one. “A lot has happened from when I first met Curtis to now. To me, the past is behind us. I’m a different woman. I will never be the same because I can’t be.” Holly loosened her grip, trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. She needed to relax. “I didn’t expect to be where I am or even in the field that I do now.”

Once upon a time Holly wanted to be a photographer but god, she was awful at taking pictures of buildings that didn’t even move. Her parents wanted her to be in the medical field but how could she take care of anyone else if she couldn’t keep her emotions under control? So, she focused on what she was good at which was drawing and made that into a stable career. “But that’s okay, because I needed to do the things I did for my family. Do I want to save my family? Abso-fucking-lutely. But if I’m not worth my family’s time, I guess I need to look into that and see if this is even worth it. As long as we figure out a good coparenting dynamic, that’s all that matters, right? Everything else is left to too many uncertainties. The one thing I know is Amber is my everything and I will do what I need to, to make sure she is given the world.”

“What do you mean ‘not worth my family’s time’? Holly, Amber loves you. Worships you. Things may be hard now but how I feel about you has never been in question.” Curtis was a difficult man to anger. He had learned through years on the ice how to compartmentalize and then unleash it in a constructive way, which in his world meant a really hard body check against the backboards. “Sorry.” Curtis leaned back against the couch and placed both his hands on his lap. “It’s your turn to speak. To say how you feel. I shouldn’t interrupt.”

“No this is good,” Jenny interjected. “If things get too bad then of course we can take turns, but I believe in things happening organically, naturally. So, Holly,” the kind therapist looked at the woman who was now glaring at her husband, and gestured to her to take the stage.

“Yeah, fucking right,” Holly cursed, her hands no longer clasped and her attention completely on the man beside her. “You don’t love me. You love the little girl that followed you to the ends of the Earth. I’m not that girl anymore! I literally have no control in my life, I’m losing everything and just like that, you’re the one with the power even though I busted my ass for you and my child. All for what? For you to move to this hellish town to prove a point that you win and you’ll always win. As if,” Holly gritted her teeth and looked away from him, her fuming anger on her sleeves with no place to go besides out.

“I don’t…what?” Curtis was taken aback a little by Holly’s words. He didn’t know where this was coming from, then again maybe that was part of the problem. For sure, there had definitely been a lack of communication in the last few years of their relationship. “You think this was about winning? It’s never been about that Hols. I came here to feel useful. To give these kids the tools they can use to succeed. I spent my entire life, my entire life, dedicating myself to a sport and it got snatched away from me. I was lost and god I put you and Amber through hell and I regret that every fucking day. But this was something I could do to fill the hole inside of me.” He gripped onto the sofa firmly, trying to push his aggression into its soft fibers. “I am genuinely sorry that you have these feelings, I really am but I honestly don’t know what else I could’ve done to make you happy. I thought we were happy.”

“Stop with this self righteous crap, Curt,” Holly clicked her tongue, the negative energy emitting from her soul and filling the room with displeasure. “You really care about every kid on your team? Give me a break. Not once have you asked Amber if she wanted to skate. If she wanted to live your dream.” Holly stared at her hand, at her wedding bands, before glancing back over to him, “If it helps you sleep at night that you’re making a difference, good for you, but don’t make yourself out to be some messiah or something. I don’t have a problem with you being a coach. I’m happy that you’re excited to get out of bed but don’t make it out to be anything but selfish.”

“Okay, time to cut in,” Jenny chirped, sipping her tea as she took in the intensity of these two. “Let’s take two steps back. Instead of the now, I want to know about the then. If you could think about things you love about each other, what would it be? How did you guys fall in love anyways? Tell me your story.” She hoped redirecting them could help them see that they both were still very much in love with each other. If not that, it would give them time to calm down.

Curtis glanced over at his wife, her rage palpable in the air. He had no idea she held such malice towards him but her words were stained also with truth. He was selfish. She had dedicated so much time to allow for him to chase his dreams that he had neglected hers. If he could cross paths with his sixteen year old self today, he would slap the shit out of him and tell him not to be an idiot to the woman of his dreams.

“Erm..well, we met in high school. I was playing hockey for the Monarchs and it was my only focus, you know? The rest of the guys were partying and just enjoying our privilege but not me. I just spent time on the ice, practice, practice, practice. Ever since I could hold a stick all I ever wanted or cared about was getting to the NHL…then I saw Holly in the stands.” His light blue eyes drifted once again to the mother of his child and they softened as he thought back to the day they met. “It was the middle of winter. Everyone had gone home for the day so I took the chance to practice solo on the ice. I was practicing the triple deke and Incubus was playing on the sound system when I got a call to go pick up my cousin Gray. On my way to the dig out, I noticed Holly, sitting alone, head in a book and despite the cold in that room, I was all of sudden just filmed with warmth. I just had to speak to her.”

“The cold never bothered me, but that’s beside the point,” Holly took the baton to continue telling their story. “I wasn’t having the best day that day. I guess now that I think about it. Control in my life wasn’t something I ever had. I read different things just to figure out what I like. That wasn’t something my parents wanted me to like. Like Greek mythology and gothic architecture. I bounced through hobbies too and for this day in particular, I wanted to see the ice. In that random decision, I found Curt instead,” Holly didn’t look at him. Instead she buried the shame she was feeling and started picking at her nails, so much for getting them done at the salon.

“When you skate, you look so happy and free. I guess that was what I fell in love with first and then,” she smiled to herself as the cuticles of her ring finger began to bleed. “You turned out to be a goofball who loved to just do things and so we did just that, we did whatever was on our minds. Until your injury.” His injury changed everything. Holly didn’t have much direction besides what people told her what was good for her and what was to be expected of her. Curt was the first thing she decided on her own and she put all of her into that decision. She got herself to a place where she would do whatever Curt wanted, if that made him happy. All she wanted was him to be happy.

Yet she didn’t realize that took a toll on her because the things they used to do, that she loved, like hiking up mountains and getting glimpses of sights she would’ve never seen if it weren’t for him, became non-existent after his depression took over. She let her rose colored glasses blind her from the fact that the woman he loved was someone who wanted to do absolutely everything, try every food, go out and get the newest toy to try with him, audacious, bold and full of wonder in her eyes, all the while always being there to take care of him. She wasn’t that woman anymore. All she wanted was to rest and be in his arms. All she wanted was to know Amber would be okay and that she did everything she could to give her the resources and tools she needed to be happy. All she wanted was her family to be happy.

She shouldn’t discredit him though because throughout their marriage he held her close and tight when the weight of the world became too much and when she questioned everything she did and everything she didn’t do, he was there. When the world became too heavy, he was there for her and maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe she needed to learn to live without him to see what was in her control and what wasn’t. Maybe she needed to let him go. Holly bit her cheek as she stared at the blood, streaming down her finger about to stain her white dress.

“Oh, here take this,” Jenny was quick to push the napkins close to the couple. Holly didn’t budge to reach for it. “I’ll be right back. I’ll get a first aid kit.” With a bounce in her step, the therapist disappeared from the room, leaving the two lovers alone.

Curtis reached out for the tissues and pulled them towards the couch as he himself shuffled closer to his wife. “Baby, here.” He offered her one of the embroidered handkerchiefs. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us. I know what I would like to happen but that’s not important right now. We need to get to a place where we can start, for Amber’s sake.” He leaned forward to wipe away Holly’s tears. “Whatever it’s worth to you, I want you to know that I still love you and I still want to be your husband. And I’m so sorry for making you feel like this but I’m gonna put in the work to make this right. I promise, I’m gonna try.”

The tears dropped on her expensive dress as she reached for the tissues to wrap her bleeding finger. Grabbing the handkerchief from him, she dabbed her face and looked at him with yearning and desperate want. “I’m sorry too, for not being exactly what you want or need. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to a place where you’ll love me for me…” but she would try. She would try to find a happy medium where her flaws weren’t so glaringly obvious and that her being this deeply damaged wouldn’t get him to walk away just like her father did, “I want to be a good mother. I want to be a good wife. But I’m failing at that… and I’m sorry I’m the problem.” She sniffled, sinking deeper and deeper into her self loathing.

“No, Hols. We’re both a problem. You’re right. I am selfish and indulgent and I need to be better.” He took a hold of her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “We need to be better. For our little girl, she needs her Mom and Dad and if we keep fighting each other she’s gonna end up without either of us.” Amber was the key to it all. Inbetween the moments of anger or the briefest of one’s that could tip towards reconciliation, their daughter had to be first and foremost in their thoughts.. Until they could get back onto the same page, this was all they could do. Curt brushed her soft, warm cheek and smiled. “I always loved you in white. I’m sorry I ruined your dress.” He thought a little humor might help to lighten the dark mood that had entered Jenny’s office. “Wouldn’t be the first one and I definitely don’t want it to be the last.”

Holly’s smile brightened as he complimented her. Against her better judgment, she turned to him and pulled him by the collar into her lips. She closed her eyes and felt his lips against hers, rough and delectable. A kiss that likely wouldn’t happen again for a while. She loved this man. Her whole body, soul and heart belonged to him but she knew that she needed to only take him in doses so she could be better, for their daughter. It wasn’t about her. It wasn’t about him. It was about all of them, together, as a family.

Pulling away from him when she could hear the doorknob move, Holly pretended it never happened and went back to their daily schedule program. Grabbing the first aid kit from the therapist, Holly focused on cleaning her finger and wrapping it with a bandaid, “Sorry, bad habit of mine. I’ve gotten it more under control but sometimes it just happens.”

“I understand, I’m just glad you got in a better headspace to stop,” Jenny acknowledged the change in tone and demeanor in Holly, curious what happened while she was away. “Next time, we will try the timer method which will allow you two three minute increments to talk before the other speaks. I don’t like that method but we can see if that’s what you guys prefer.”

“Next time?” Holly looked up from her hand to Jenny. “Wait, we're already done? I feel like we barely scratched the surface.” The architect was shocked how fast time flew. She expected this to feel a lot longer, dragging out and boring her to death but instead she felt like she had a moment with her husband, which she hadn’t had in so long and she wanted to stay. She didn’t want to leave him.

“Yeah, sadly it is,” she wasn’t going to mention that due to Curt being late, it did take away from their time but she was still content with what she saw today. “but I do think we’ve covered a lot and I do have homework for you two! I know, oh my god, homework. It’s like we’re in school again,” Jenny giggled, amused at herself.

Curt was so taken aback by Holly’s kiss that he barely registered Jenny coming back into the room. For the whisper of a moment, he felt like he had his wife back but the coach of the horsemen knew better. It had become somewhat of a recurring theme since the beginning of their separation that Holly and Curt would fall back into each other's arms in a physical sense. The amount of blazing rows that had turned into quick hotel room purchases and fiery, passionate lovemaking was growing by the week. He knew it wasn’t healthy. He knew it had to stop but he couldn’t say no to his wife. He was so madly in love with her, so desperate to be as close as they once were. He wanted them, to be them again.

“Homework?” Curtis finally snapped out of his daze. “I mean if it is like high school then I guess Holly is doing mine like she used to.” He was deflecting as always. “That’s fine. We’re willing to do whatever it takes Jen.” He returned his steely gaze to his wife. “Do you want to take Amber tonight? She’s upstairs, her session should be done soon too.”

“I’m actually in town tonight. I have dinner plans with my client to go over the hotel blueprints,” Holly sighed, realizing another chance she had with her daughter was out of reach because she couldn’t refuse the offer from her client. This client specifically was a powerful man. “I’m staying at an Airbnb. It’s small but if she doesn’t mind, we could bring it up. But if I have to wait until Saturday, I understand that too.” Holly’s gaze went from Curt’s handsome face to Jenny’s eager one. They probably should get going. Placing the first aid kit on the table, Mrs. Elliott stood up and instructed her lover, “We’ll talk about this outside, for now…”

No longer angry at Miss Jennings for clearly having a friendship with her husband, Holly caught her attention and wondered what homework she had in store for them. At least in Holly’s eyes, this session was the first time she felt her and her husband making progress. She had faith these therapy sessions would help. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself but she got to kiss her husband so that’s all that really mattered. They, for a moment, had bliss and she got to open up to him on things he had no idea she was bottling up. Progress was progress and that’s all that mattered. “Homework?”

Swiftly, Jenny went to her desk and grabbed two composition notebooks and handed one to each of them. “Relationship journals. I only expect one entry each week. If you want to write more, that’s entirely up to you. Your first prompt will be a letter to each other. Letters are an easy and natural way to share your thoughts. If you want to write anything else, things to consider would be a daily record of the best things and the toughest things you’re going through. Maybe that’ll help you both see each other's struggles better. Lastly, individual assignments.”

Jennifer started with the fiery spitfire woman that was Mrs. Elliott. Her attention never wavered from the person she was talking to. “Holly, while I don’t expect you to write anything about this, I want you to really reflect on the things you have control over. And what control even means to you. I’d like to follow up on that next week since it seems to be where the root of your problems come from. And Curt,” Jenny gleamed at him, crossing her arms and giving him an almost challenging look, “I want you to try something new. Not hockey related. I want you to get out of your box. To think beyond yourself you have to look at what's around you. Go beyond what makes you comfortable. If you want to write about it cool, but you don’t have to. I still want to know what it is you did and how it made you feel.”

Going to the door, Jennifer Jennings opened it for the two of them to take their leave, “Sound easy enough?”

“Sounds good to me.” Curtis nodded his head as he pulled himself to his feet. He turned to watch Holly for a moment longer. Even now, amongst the weeds and encroaching woods of fear, he still found her to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Curt had no idea what the future held for him and his wife but he knew that all he wanted was for them to be a family again with their baby girl. “How about after the hockey game on Saturday, the three of us go out for some food and then we talk with Amber about staying with you for a few days. Does that sound good?” He spun on his heel to look at their therapist. “And I expect to see you there too Jenny. At the game not the meal.”

Holly wanted to believe she made peace with her jealousy but seeing Curt’s relationship with Jenny only made her flare up again. “Maybe you should invite her to dinner. She’s probably a better mother too,” Holly snapped. Holding her relationship journal close, just like she would hold her books when they were younger, hugging them for stability, she stormed out, knowing she ruined a good moment but also knowing she couldn’t take it back.

Maybe they wouldn’t be okay after all.

“Give it time, Curt. She loves you very much,” Jenny apologetically smiled at the man, who seemed to be constantly tiptoeing through a landmine field. “We’re definitely getting somewhere!”

“I really hope so.” Curt wasn’t surprised by Holly’s outburst. Unfortunately, he had seen them too many times to count. Even after nearly twenty years together, there were still things about his wife that he didn’t know, things she kept private and no doubt a contributing factor to her mental health struggles. He despised the fact that he couldn’t be there for her in the way she needed him to be. “Thanks for today Jen.”

“No, thank you. I’ll see you at the game.”

“I called you here for an important FAMILY intervention,” Eloise stood in front of their booth, in the Hole of the Wall, staring at her gaming crew who rarely meet in person. Marco, Amity, Nadie, and herself. She couldn’t believe the audacity of Ross for making Nadie cry, yet again. While Nadine didn’t tell her the details of what happened during graduation, Lolly knew it had something to do with him because whenever his name was brought up during gaming sessions, her dear friend went quiet. Now suddenly, he was trying to come back into her Nadie’s life, causing problems for everyone.

Nadine nursed a hard cider in her hand, as she deeply stared into her glass, replaying her conversation with Ross at Beau’s. You were never nothing, Nadine. You have always been the best of the two of us. The better student. The better test-taker. And the stronger person. She sat in her sadness, realizing how silly she was for taking his struggle personally. She should’ve understood him better and tried to listen to his side.

Only recently he got out of rehab, and when she found out, she wanted to know so many things. She wanted to know how he was, if he was okay, and what he was doing. She didn’t care about where he was going in life, all she cared about was the Ross today, the Ross now, and whether or not he was thinking about her like she thought about him. All these questions left unanswered in her head, with no escape. She clearly meant something to him if all he could think about was what he said and did to her. She clearly meant something to him if he went out of his way to reach out to her. She clearly meant something to him and knowing that, knowing that small piece of information, gave her hope.

“Ross is trying to win Nadie over and I’m not okay with that! He made her cry. I saw it!” Lolly grabbed her shirley temple from the table and sucked it down so fast, that it was intense to watch. “How dare he think he has the right, the privilege, the HONOR to come back into her life like he didn’t stab her to death a million and ten times!”

Helping herself to the plate of wings, not really bothered by Lolly’s language, though she was sure Rhett Cleary was not pleased, Amity scanned her friends. Giving them all a wide smile, never letting any negative emotion creep up on her demeanor, she grabbed a spicy wing and took a bite out of it. If there was any person that knew how to hide their emotions better than anyone, who mastered the art of a poker face, it was Amity Lyon. And she learned that through her time growing up and watching her Uncle Bernie play her father like a fiddle.

Amity was a lucky girl to be surrounded by so much love. She had a colorful array of friends from the E-Girls to the Gremlins, from Hailey’s band, Of Hail & Fire, to 99.1 FM On The Block crew that hosted their own personalized shows. She was a lucky girl to be loved by many. Though she was sure Hailey would disown her soon, seeing how it was only yesterday she sent a text about dropping the band due to schedule conflict. She had committed to too much and seeing how Jade had disappeared, ghosting all her friends, this felt like the easiest choice to let go. The easiest way out.

If there was one thing Amie knew how to do well it was keep herself busy. Never one to keep still. Never one to stop and let the dark thoughts overtake her. Never one to outwardly show someone’s ruined her day. She was a chaotic creature, through and through, and she chose to live each second freely and on a whim. Even though she would never admit it, there was a reason behind that. There was always a reason behind everything she did.

While Nadie’s heart was being twisted by a boy she clearly had feelings for, and never stopped having feelings for, Amity found herself thinking back to when Samara Aviles rejected her in Eighth Grade and since then, Amie did a lot of ‘finding herself’. Her older brother, Brandon, would wonder if she had ADHD, never being diagnosed, since her parents didn’t really believe in therapy, but in all honesty, she just didn’t want to think she would never be good enough for someone. That heartbreak sat with her throughout the years and she’s come to accept that love wasn’t something meant for her anytime soon, if at all.

Amie sat there in her thoughts, looking at all her friends, and realized there was one thing they all had in common. They all had their hearts shattered into many glass pieces. All through heartbreak. Lolly may not agree but her losing her fierce leader, Quinton Wood, wrecked her and ever since then she had never been the same. Marco never talked about his lover from highschool but after junior prom, he wasn’t the same. Recent days, he’s been better and even has a bounce in his limp steps. That doesn’t change that he does carry himself differently and that’s all thanks to a moment, a moment that changed him forever.

Sadness was ingrained in her mind and imprinted in her heart when Samara was flattered but not interested. Sam, to her, then was a complete badass and a downright inspiration. For a girl like Amity, who was told to play a role for most of her childhood, Sam was a badass and a downright inspiration. Someone who was unashamed of who she was and continued to live for herself. In highschool, Amity had only started embracing her individuality and now that she's found people she loves and hobbies she can call her own, she was content but she knew she would never be ready, not really.

Just because she knew what she liked didn’t mean she could stop thinking about others and that’s where her flaws would always lie, she wanted everyone to be happy and at the end of the day, it left her exhausted. Saying no to Hailey was her first big step of doing something for her, and she was sure Bron would be proud of her but the repercussions terrified her. Hailey terrified her. Amity acknowledged awhile back she was a people pleaser and even if she was surrounded by so many people, she was so lonely and the only person who could change that feeling was her and she didn’t know where to start. As for Nadine, it was with a boy that matched her energy in every way, yet neither knew how to confess. Maybe instead of the Smile Riot Gremlins they should be called the Lonely Hearts Club.

“Like he didn’t brutalize her and murder her hopes and dreams to ever find happiness ever again!” Lolly continued to preach, a bit on the dramatic side. The crew knew she could go on and on and on if they allowed it. “There is no way we are going to let him damage her again, right?”

Marco had been through so much in the past few years and though he didn’t talk about it in great details with the girls, not all of him was repaired. Even though he was with Danny now and they knew the small bits of truth he’d give them during their sporadic gaming seshes and he was obviously in a better place mentally and emotionally, a small part of him was stuck in 2019 at prom when Danny broke him into a million pieces that Charlie Decker had then shot away and scattered him into dust and the winds of Edenridge spread it far and wide. Only because he kept having those recurring dreams, a fact that Marco admitted to the girls, he felt himself start to become whole again. Being back with Danny was part of that, but where he missed his friend dates with Lanie and watching a soccer and football game with Roddy, these three girls were his saving grace. Being his escape.

Which only pained him even more because of how much Nadine went through with Ross Takahashi and what he did to her. Of the three of them, Marco felt the closest to Nadine because they were similar enough and there was always a part of him that felt they came from the same emotionally fractured cloth. And between Lolly and Amie, Nadine was the closest to his sometimes timid nature. He loves them to death, but those two girls could be a lot in heavy doses.

Lolly was called out by the bartender to quiet her voice. Grumbling in return, she scooted in beside Marco, and continued, “We all need to remind Nadine why Ross is bad for her. Like first of all: HE MADE YOU CRY! Second of all: HE MADE HER CRY! And thirdly: HE MADE HER FUCKING CRY!!!”

“Ouch. You yelled right in my ear, Lolly.” Marco dug his pinky finger into his left ears as it felt hollow like it always did whenever he or any of the other Gremlins were attacked by Lolly's impressive superpower of sound. Marco’s blue eyes, through the already slight headache he had (thanks again for that, Eloise), fell on Nadine and he smiled slightly. In times like this, he wished he knew what to say. Wished he knew what the right thing to say was. The only thing he could think of was the most common thing, but it was Marco Brady after all. “How are you holding up, Nadie?” He asked her in a soft tone.

“What do you mean how is she—” Lolly cut in before noticing Amity’s free hand going up to silence her. The usually hyperactive e-girl was quiet, giving the floor to the person that likely needed them the most. “Let her speak, Lolly.” Amity brought her attention back to her wings, keeping herself busy as she listened along. Eloise’s response was another grumble before she crossed her arms and leaned back, waiting impatiently.

“I…” Nadie whispered, not really knowing what to say or how to articulate her conversation with Ross. This all happened so fast and seeing her friends wasn’t something she expected but one does not simply go against Eloise Anderson’s will. Biting her lip, she shook her head in clear confusion before letting her heart speak instead of her mind, “I’m unsure. Is that a bad thing?” She looked between her friends, seeking reassurance that what she was going through wasn’t odd and her not having all the answers was natural.

With Lolly coming down from her intense high, she finally took in Nadie and her demeanor, seeing how deflated she was and could hear Dallas’ voice telling her to be patient and be quiet. Sometimes people just need to speak what’s on their mind to understand how they’re feeling. Lolly started feeling bad because of how selfish she was acting. As such, she decided against speaking, choosing to let the other two take the lead.

“Not at all!” Marco said rather quickly, almost immediately after Nadine’s question. “I probably speak for us all but also for myself, there is nothing wrong with feeling unsure. We have all been there and sometimes it’s okay to not have all the answers.” And sometimes the answers never present themselves clearly for you to make sense of them. There had been nights -- too many for Marco to remember -- when he questioned himself about him and Danny and what caused their break up. He felt so unsure about himself, his ability to be who he was before and that was before the shooting when he really lost all traces of himself. “You remember how much of a wreck I was in the last couple of years. You three pulled me out of that particularly painful gutter…even if one of you did it a bit too aggressively…” Marco, in a teasing manner, shot a glance towards Lolly. “Because that’s what friends do for each other, Nadie!” He smiled a bit softer at Nadine.

“I like him,” Nadie blurted out, before immediately correcting herself, “No, I think I love him.”

Lolly was drinking her shirley temple when suddenly, she spat out all her drink. Thankfully it only hit the wings but that did cause Amity to grimace.

“I guess I’m done eating!” Amity exclaimed in irritation, throwing the bone of her current wing to the basket and reaching for a napkin to clean her fingers. “Come on, Lol’. You need to chill the fuck out.”

Ignoring Amity’s clear displeasure, Lolly slapped her hands on the table and speedily asked, “What do you mean you like him? You love him? After everything he’s done to you?!” Lolly was flabbergasted. She couldn’t believe her ears. Did Nadie even know what it meant to love someone? If Daisy were to find out, she would lose her goddamn mind.

How dare.

“I don’t know,” Nadie bashfully looked away from her friends, avoiding eye contact. “I haven’t seen him in so long and yes, I know he hurt me and he explained where his mind was at the time. I know you guys think I shouldn’t forgive him but… I don’t know. I always felt my most authentic self with him and I really worry for him and seeing him today made me want to be there for him. Take care of him. I don’t know, it’s all rather sudden and I’ve never stopped thinking about him even after he hurt me. I can’t get him out of my mind.”

“You got it bad,” Amity commented, finally entering the conversation. Still wiping her hands intensely with the napkin to get the wing sauce off, she brought her loving gaze to Nadie, “All I can say is the heart wants what it wants and no matter what we say, you’re going to find your way to him. That’s just how stupid love is.” She smiled to herself wondering if she’d ever get to that place where love took pilot of her decisions or if she was meant to be forever alone, like her siblings. “You’re both older and have been through it. I think having a serious conversation about your feelings with him would do you wonders. It may hurt if he doesn’t like you back, but at least you’re given closure to move onto the next chapter.”

“Y-you… you don’t think he likes me back?” Nadine stammered, hyperfocused on the last part of Amity’s spiel. “Maybe, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.” She coiled inwards, embarrassed. “Yeah, I probably am. Nevermind, I take it back,” she added, retreating from the situation. “I take it back,” she repeated.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Lolly hissed in annoyance. “Nadine, stop it. Stop it with this self-conscious-guilty-it’s-all-my-fault shit. If you like him, fucking commit. Don’t be wishy washy. I can’t say I like the dude, but fuck, you don’t even know how to act because you’re so dumb for him. He really did put you through it but I guess, I GUESS, he might have some good qualities. The Nadie I know doesn’t befriend just anyone. The Nadie I know sees good in everyone but if Nadie legitimately likes someone, that comes from a very real place. Just don’t be stupid, don’t do anything stupid, and don’t let him be stupid.” She gritted her teeth, adding a little grr in the end. Lolly wasn’t the most eloquent with her words but what she was trying to say was she hoped Nadine was careful and took things slow. At least until her heart was ready to take the risk. As stubborn as Eloise wanted to be, she knew when to throw in the towel.

As Marco watched the conversation take a rather interesting, albeit unexpected turn, he couldn’t help but think about how Nadine and Ross’ situation, though different, was similar to what happened between him and Danny. He couldn’t ignore the similarities. Both he and Nadine were hurt to the point they felt hopeless and just like he and Danny, Nadine had her first encounter with Ross. It seemed like it didn’t go great but not bad either. The sudden confession Nadie made was very telling.

“They’re both right, Nadine! You have the kindest heart of us all…” He could just feel the scathing glare from Lolly, so he would rephrase. “What I mean is, like Lolly said, you always manage to see the good in people even when they don’t deserve it. Ross might not deserve it, but I don’t think there’s ever been anything bad said about him to leave your lips. I think that’s something to consider.” Marco found himself thinking about the intense conversation he and Danny had shortly before they got back together, how it was so hard for him to admit what was really going through his mind. At the time, Marco had no idea that he and his first love would ever get back together. He just knew he couldn’t stand the thought of not being in his life. “Trust me I know exactly the crossroads you’re at. How much it hurts to even think about that time. It’s like a deep wound that will never heal. A never ending pain that grows the longer you leave it untreated. Those scars stay with us for as long as we allow it to.” Marco found that out the hard way. It wasn't until he was essentially backed up into a corner did his true healing begin. “And whatever happens, you won’t have to go through it alone. We’re the support to your tank, Nadie!”

Nadie responded with a smile, keeping her emotions contained but feeling grateful to have wonderful friends. Even if she wanted to say anything, Lolly would’ve talked over her, finding an in to redirect the conversation to someone else.

“When are you going to tell us your boyfriend or girlfriend’s name, hmmmmmm? Don’t think just because we’re meeting here for Nadie that I’ve forgotten you’ve replaced us and don’t need us anymore. Not even wanting to game. Like what even is that? Too much of a life for your friends.” Lolly complained, leaning herself up against Marco, giving him the crazy eyes as she interrogated for answers.

“I'm not going to lie,” Amity chimed in, grinning mischievously. “I am curious. Last time I saw you, you had such a glow. Whoever you’re with is totally fucking your brains out and I’m so jealous.” Amie’s vulgarity and pointing out an obvious, lewd fact caused Nadie to blush because unlike everyone at this table, including Lolly, she was so innocent and pure. She was a virgin. Clearing her throat, she grabbed her hard cider, chugging down more than she meant to. She didn’t drink often so she knew she was going to feel that later… well, she was already feeling it so there was no later.

Nadine hadn’t been the only one to go a little red when they brought up the someone new (or old in this case) in Marco’s life. Marco was getting better at developing his poker face. Danny could still see through it from a mile away but that was only because he was powerless whenever he was around him. Danny knew it. Marco knew it, but around his girls - the squad - he could hide it a bit better, but even with them he couldn’t keep the charade up for long.

Feeling all of this pressure was getting to Marco and he looked down, taking a sip from his Mr. Pibb, silence taking over his end and he pondered about telling them. He knew they wouldn’t not be happy for him having someone in his life, but even without knowing the name, they knew about Danny because they knew about the person who broke him into shambles. More than Charlie Decker ever did. The whole notion of telling them about Danny had, if he was completely honest with himself, absolutely scared him shitless. But he knew as long as he was happy, they’d be happy too…at least that’s what Marco hoped.

“I guess my poker face isn’t as good as I hoped it would be,” he commented, laughing as he took another quick sip. “So yes, there is someone in my life. A guy--” Marco immediately turned his gaze on Lolly for a short moment as if to put all of her suspicions to rest. “It happened about a month ago more or less. He’s uh…” As he felt a tightness in his throat, there was something blocking Marco from speaking. A fear. A tense apprehension about how they would judge him. He wouldn’t blame them because they didn’t know Danny at all. Only that he was with someone that he loved and had completely broke him. But things were different now. Marco was different. Danny was different. They all had gone through incredibly difficult trauma in their own right and and they were here, all together. Through everything that should have broke them, it didn’t.

“He’s uh, what?!” Lolly demanded Marco to speak. “Come on, don’t leave us hanging like this. What’s his name? Where does he work? Does he have a car? Do I need to visit him? Is he hot?” Now that Marco was finally speaking about his lover, Eloise wanted to get as much as she could from him. The more she knew, the better everyone would be. That was her philosophy. “Whoever it is, tell them I’ll beat their ass if he makes you cry just like I’m planning on beating Ross’ ass.”

“Lolly,” Nadine cut in, tired of her dragging Ross’ name in the dirt and her childish interrogation of who Marco was with. “Give it a rest, please.”

Amity chuckled at the immature Gremlin’s display. “Girl you’re so tiny, there’s no way you can take down Ross and whoever Marco’s screwing.”

Before Lolly’s rapidfire questionnaire, Marco was feeling tense. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. Couldn’t find the words he wanted, but in a weird way, Lolly being Lolly, it was reassuring. The crackhead energy she always had helped him feel at ease. When she wasn’t using that superpower for evil, it was one of the few things that put his mind at ease. “It’s alright, Nadie. I don’t mind. It just shows she cares,” Marco laughed, smiling at the Gremlin next to him. “He doesn’t have a job as far as I know, but he does pick me up almost every day from the Godmother. And his car is very nice. Very shiny. Very blue.” Just speaking out loud about Danny, answering almost all of Lolly’s questions, Marco felt at least comfortable in the fact that just telling them was nothing to be worried about. He was happy, so that’s all that should matter.

He took in a deep breath and as he slowly exhaled, he just said it, “His name is Danny Belmonte and…well, he’s the boy I was seeing before. From high school. The one that I was seeing up until Junior Prom before…you know.” Marco’s heart couldn’t stop beating. He understood what they might be thinking. Maybe he was stupid to get back with Danny - at least, that’s what his mind had him thinking the moment he said it out loud. In his mind, he knew they could see how happy he was but he also knew how he was with them after Danny broke his heart.

“I knew who you were talking about when you described his ride. He’s the only one driving a luxury sports car straight from Italy,” Amity reached for her whiskey sour and surveyed the area around them. “Also who the fuck doesn’t know Danny Belmonte? He’s literally the only son of Taz.” Whether you were on Scott Street or Cherry Street, Taz made himself known to many, having friends from all areas, one including Kamilla Briteson. A known and respected mother figure of the Southside serpents. “He does have a job, by the way. He waits at Palermo. He also does salsa every Tuesday.”

Nadine narrowed her eyes at Amity, thinking this was all rather suspicious. Taking another sip of her hard cider, she asked, “Why do you know all this?”

“Sister is literally best friends with Kingsnake so I get some deetz of all the people she sees. I sometimes get pasta with my girls so Danny’s served us more often than not since Palermo has a small staff. And like a couple months ago I took an intermediate salsa dancing program and Danny was there. Don’t know if he still goes there but his dance partner was Caroline Sinclair. Small world, huh?” Amity shrugged. Her eyes falling on the wings Lolly ruined with her spit. So tragic, she would’ve eaten it all.

Eloise was going crazy. Not only did Nadine and Amity act like they didn’t hear that Marco got back with his ex but they were spitting facts about this man as if he was some Edenridge icon. Finishing her Shirley temple, she glared at Marco, “so you’re back with a boy that broke your heart and you,” her sharp, offended gaze went to Nadie, “are considering bringing a boy that hurt you back in your life. I DON’T GET IT!”

“The heart wants what it wants,” Amity shrugged before looking at her phone and seeing her ethot chat was poppin’. Texting her girls back, she continued to talk, directing her words to Marco but not glancing up from her phone, “Well, you’re a big boy, Marco, and I’m sure you wouldn’t have made this decision if you didn’t trust that Danny’s changed or is actively changing. You’re happy, and that’s all that matters.”

In truth, Marco omitted his job at Palermo in the event they actually didn’t know who he was. The last thing he wanted was for the girls - though namely Lolly - showing up to his family restaurant and grilling him about the past. He appreciated Lolly and how she would go to bat for him, especially because of how long it took Marco to finally get to a good place. These three, the squad, were a big part of why he has a better mindset. They provided the therapy session almost every night for a year, allowing him to find an escape and smile when his world was at its worst. Between them and PT with Roddy, they saved him.

Marco needed Lolly to understand so his gaze shifted to her and he also shifted his position in the booth to make sure she knew this was important. “Trust me, I get where you’re coming from. Believe me, there was a point last month when I thought me and Danny were done. Like leave-it-in-the-past done, but we had a conversation that not only opened up the wound, but addressed just about everything that went on between us when we broke up and everything leading up to it. I poured my heart out to him and now we have been together for a month.” Marco faced the others again, smiling at Amie. “I’ve been also learning not to be so doormat-like and expressing myself when I need to. And like Amie said, I am happy. Truly I am.”

“In this town, that’s something you should hold tight to,” Amie smiled at her friend, acknowledging his hardships but also acknowledging everyone at this table’s struggle to survive and stay afloat. This town was a challenging place to live in but as long as they had outlets that made the pain worth enduring, then they would be okay. Together, they would be okay. “Lolly, I’m glad you brought us out to meet. You don’t leave your house often so it’s nice to see you wanting to. ‘Side for you catching Nadie and Ross talking, what made you want to go outside?”

Bleh.

Her friends were so mature in comparison to her. Lolly frowned when she listened to Marco express his decision to be with Danny and that he was happy. She had no idea if that kind of happiness would ever find her nor did she think she would see it if she did. Losing Q took a lot out of her. Made her afraid to step outside. But Shannon challenged her and told her to go on an adventure and so here she was, trying to find her next adventure. Trying not to be scared to live because of the monsters that lurked in this town. “I want to be happy. Mrs. Shannon is trying to help me get there but I can’t be happy if I’m always on the computer.”

Little did Lolly know that an adventure was just about to walk inside the Hole…

As the Smile Riot Gremlins talked, a duo walked past them, one a blonde girl in a white sundress with silver-colored boots that came up just inches below her knee and a boy, who seemed a few years older than her that wore a clean-cut shirt and dark-colored jeans. They walked by the gremlins as the blonde said in a clear volume, “Here’s our booth.” She didn’t pay any mind to the Gremlins as they took the booth behind them.

“Brie, we can just get our food to go. I don’t even want to be here anyway--”

Brie shot her older brother a silencing glare as she took a seat, her back facing the Gremlin’s back. “Enough of that! You weren’t doing yourself any good stressing bout Mara being back. Damian is barely able to muster his brain cells for anything useful. I can’t let my other brother kill them away because you’re thinking about how you’ll make a second first impression on the woman of your dreams.” Brie let out a sigh, leaning back into the booth. Between Neal driving himself up a wall with worry and in turn, leading her to have to be the adult for both of them and the party this weekend, Brie was already juggling too much.

Neal shrugged. “Right because you aren’t already booked. Aren’t you helping with the party those Sinclair girls are throwing?”

There was a moment between the Blake siblings where both smirked at each other.

“I can’t help it if I’m in popular demand,” she said proudly, giving her brother a smug look. He rolled his eyes. “All us Clovers are pitching in in some regard. It's not just a party for everyone on Scott street. That would be too boring. Carrie, I think was originally going to make it a bit exclusive, but I threw the suggestion her way about it being for everyone. Anyone who likes to have fun, at least, so don’t worry you’re safe, Neal.”

Distracted and out of her mind, Lolly’s eyes followed the girl that passed them until they took a seat behind her and Marco. “Shut the fuck up everyone,” she growled at her friends, before quietly turning her body, hiding her head behind the other girl’s to eavesdrop. Closing her eyes, she took in the scent of something juicy, something orange, and maybe something flowery, like lilies. Whatever it was, it was hella’ fruity and sent shivers up her spine. She smelled delicious. It was intoxicating. She was also fucking gorgeous. Since when did Edenridge have models? Curiosity was filling her soul as she gently grabbed a strand of blonde hair. Nadine looked at Marco, her eyes widened to get her to stop before the other girl noticed.

Marco had his attention divided first between Lolly shushing the group and then to Nadie, who urged Marco to stop her. Stop her from doing what? He followed Nadie’s glance and had a mental facepalming moment when he saw the most gremlin gremlin of their group actually touching someone’s hair. Some blonde girl behind her. “_Lolly!” Marco nudged Lolly’s shoulder, keeping his tone as quiet and low as he could. “_{Stop that!}”

Amity wasn’t paying attention to any of this and had no idea that the people her crew were curious about were her cousins. The family tree was complicated but they were related since her brother was once married into the Blake family and her niece is someone she spends too much time with at the content house. Downing her whiskey sour, tuning out the noise, she continued to text her girls and share memes with them.

Instead of stopping it, like Marco had demanded, Lolly made it worse and climbed over him to get out of the booth. This was rewarded with her falling face first onto the floor. As her ass hung out, she grumbled, “I’m okay…” With a quick recovery time, she hopped up. At this point, Nadine was covering her face in embarrassment. When Lolly set her mind on something, there was no one who could stop her. Maybe Dallas but Dallas wasn’t here.

With reckless abandon, she strutted to the table and looked at the two strangers, with no fear, just complete audacity. “HEY!”

Rhett from the bar shouted, “ELOISE.”

“Hi…” She lowered her voice. “I’m here eating with my friends and I couldn’t help but overhear you want to fuck Amaranth Harding! The daughter of the hot rock goddess from the band East of Eden. Well guess what, buddy ol’ pal! My buddy, Marco,” she turned her gaze to the boy she was speaking of, gesturing for him to stand up and come hither. “Marcoooooooooo,” she beckoned, before making her pitch without telling the catch, “He’s like really tight with Kylee, her cousin and you know he could totally set you up. I’m just saying, it’s a good deal.”

All this had to be was an intervention to help Nadine out. That’s all it ever needed to be, but now, now Lolly was on the loose, unhinged and nobody could stop her when she was on a roll. As soon as his name was called out, Marco sighed and stood up from the booth, joining the chaotic gremlin at her side, waving to the Blakes with an almost defeated expression on his face.

“Oh, so when she said Marco…” Brie made a mental note. “Your mother is Marlena. I’ve gotten my hair done at Tresses plenty of times.” The blonde gave Marco a smile as she turned her attention to Eloise. Quite the interesting girl she was. Pretty, too.

“Yeah, that’s my ma,” Marco said simply.

Brie couldn’t deny that Eloise had a good offer. It would help Neal along in his anxiety and give him fewer things to stress over, but seeing as how she was the one acting on his behalf because, as she looked over at him, his face said it all. He was a bundle of nerves and she could tell the gears were turning. “So..Eloise was it? You make a strong case. I admit, you have my curiosity, but there’s gotta be more to it. Why would you help people you barely know? I know Marco only because his mother can’t stop gushing about how proud she is of her oldest--” It was at this point, in addition to his complicated expression, Marco was showing signs of embarrassment as his face went red. “Tell me why you’d go out of your way to help us?”

Flat out without any hesitation, Lolly declared, putting her hands on her hips like she was talking truths and nothing but truths, like a goddamn superhero, “Because you’re fucking hot and I want to go to this party you and your friends are throwing. It’s that easy, folks.”

Oh my god. At this point, Nadie was nudging Amity so she could get out of the booth. Taking her phone out of her hand, Nadie held it far away, which caused the Lyon girl to grimace.

“Heyyyyy, give it back,” the Fallen Scott Street princess complained as she laid her hand out.

Not one to pick a fight, Nadie did return it but not before telling her, kindly, to move. In time, the other girl did finally leave which allowed Nadie to join her friends, so Marco wasn’t suffering on his own from the hurricane that was Lolly.

Standing now, finally seeing her friends talking to her cousins, weird, Amity trailed behind Nadie and waved at them, “Sup Brie, sup Neal.”

“I’ve never been to a party since I was homeschooled so I think this is just what the doctor ordered! The one time I did visit my friends on campus, my friend got his head shot off so you know, it be like that sometimes.” Lolly rambled on, in full throttle.

“Oh my god…” Nadine whispered, realizing how inappropriate that was to say randomly. Someone desperately needed to help accumulate their friend to society. Worried, she scanned the two people she didn’t know hoping they weren’t made uncomfortable or weirded out by their socially inept friend.

“Okay, that’s enough from you,” Amity grabbed Lolly’s hand and pulled her back, forcing her to sit down and calm down. “Stay, I got it from here.” Going back to her cousins, she inquired, “Okay so I see you’ve met Lolly, what’s going on now?”

Brie wasn’t the kind of girl to be stunned speechless. She actually prided herself to a degree that not a lot phased her. She prided herself in having thick skin. The curse of being beautiful and popular was that everyone had their petty, insecure jealousy of her being in the position she found herself in within both her friend group and her social standing among her peers, yet in a matter of moments from one girl she had never met until now, Brielle Blake had no words. She kept a neutral expression on her face (something she couldn’t say her brother had in response), but internally, she just…didn’t have any instant response.

“A riveting friend you have, cousin.” Brie finally spoke. By this point, Marco sat back with Lolly, if not to keep her at bay while the Blakes and Amie talked. She was still reeling from the bombshell Eloise dropped, but Brie collected herself in an efficient manner. She wouldn’t be the supreme if she couldn’t manage pressure and surprises of any given situation. “I guess the best way to explain it is Neal here has a little wittle crush--”

“It is not! I just really like her and want to make sure I don’t look stupid--”

“Like I said: A crush. He’s down bad for Amaranth Harding. Has been for years. He screwed up his first impression. Or at least he wasn’t ready for it and now that she’s back in town, he’s aiming to make a second first impression. That’s when your friend pitched this idea of using Marco to ask Kylee Grimm to talk to her on his behalf?” She hummed thoughtfully, trying to think back and make sure that was all, but at the same time, Brie was skeptical. As much as she gave her older brother a hard time about it, she didn’t want to risk his chances on something that might not even be full-proof.

“I don’t need you guys to do anything on my behalf! I can do this. I just need to make sure it’s perfect. Everything needs to be perfect this time around.” Neal was in his head again, the variables churning through his mind like a complicated puzzle that stressed him out just processing how to go about attempting to solve it.

“Well before you go overthinking, how did you mess up?” Amity raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and surveying the situation to see if her friends needed to intervene. “Have you ever thought it was all in your head that you messed up? If you want to be friends with someone shouldn’t you just be yourself?” Before she let Neal respond, she addressed Brie, her niece’s best friend and chuckled, “Let’s be real, the only reason why she threw Marco under the bus is because she likes you. Girl is honest to a fault so she says what’s on her mind. And right now, you are.”

She wasn’t the only one.

Brie didn’t know much about her, but there was one thing she did know to be an absolute fact: she wanted to know more about Eloise. She was an interesting girl. So very much her own person. In the short time she had to digest Eloise and process the hurricane she seemed to be, Brie became intrigued. That bombshell she dropped about her friend was shocking and, she could admit that she didn’t know how to respond at the moment, but that was only because she was caught off-guard.

Taking it upon herself, almost disregarding her cousin and always-in-deep-thought older brother (who was pondering away about what Amity said) for a moment, Brie mirrored what Eloise did earlier and wedged her head between a seated Marco and the brunette, resting her head on her folded arms. “Hey~” Brie gave Eloise a smile, almost working some charm into it. “The party’s this Saturday. You all should come too! Anyone can come by as long as you’re not some creepy stalker weirdo.” Brie gave all at the table a glance. “You just look like normal weirdos that could be fun to hang with.” Brie turned her eyes on Eloise again, reaching into her purse, pulling out a small heart-shaped notepad, writing something down on it quickly, and folded it twice. “Here, Eloise. Figured you might need to contact me about the party and everything related to it. Or if you ever wanted to hang out during the week. I live on my phone -” She leaned closer to Eloise, whispering “— _{like my tech-savvy cousin over there}—” She subtly gestured behind her to where Amity was, giggling at her cousin’s expense.

“Well I live at my house usually playing games on my computer,” Lolly grinned widely at the girl, snatching the paper from her and pocketing it. “I’m pretty sure Nadie got work and Marco has to see what his boyfriend is doing. But I’ll be there,” The Filipino girl affirmed, excited on her new adventure, actually looking forward to her next therapy session to tell Miss Shannon all about it. “Oh, and call me Lolly, please. It’s what all my friends call me.” She shifted herself to look at the girl who was watching her in intrigue, “OH! One last thing. Your fancy perfume smells really fruity and delicious. I like it a lot.”

Cocking a half-smirk, Brie mouthed a sound of “oh” as Lolly complimented her on her perfume. This was a first for her, which seemed to be happening quite frequently and in rapid succession with the Filipina girl she found quite interesting. “It is quite fancy, isn’t it?” She laughed, knowing full well if her oldest brother was here, he would make a comment about it. “It’s Dior Miss Dior Eau de Parfum. It’s my favorite. I love all the fruity sweetness aromas it has. I got it from One Spritz in Pinehurst. If you ever wanted to check it out for yourself, that is.”

“Never been! And I haven’t really left Edenridge before but I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Lolly nodded, not really interested in fancy perfumes but if it was something Brie liked, she could at least check it out. “So party—”

Lolly’s phone began to ring. The caller? Her paranoid mother, Blessica, who never leaves the house, hoards everything and is afraid she’ll die the moment she walks outside the garden walls. Sighing to herself, Eloise apologized to the pretty girl who was gracious enough to invite her to a highschool party. “I gotta’ take this. But I’ll definitely see you there,” the small geek politely separated herself from the conversation to be present for her mother. Answering her phone, she spoke in Tagalog, which was the most commonly spoken native language of the Philippines and tried her best to not constantly look in Brie’s direction to check her out.

As Brie no doubt was feeling some kind of way about the departed Lolly, Neal had been in his thoughts. He kept as quiet as he could, but internally, his mind was running rampant, clinging to just about everything that Amity said. He ran back his first meet with Mara, what happened on his end, how catastrophic it was for him personally, and how it all went downhill because he felt like he messed up. Too intimidated by someone who was so clearly out of his league, yet maybe it wasn’t that she was out of his league. Maybe Amie was right. Maybe he psyched himself out of his own confidence and that in turn ruined any chances he had of making a first good impression. Maybe…all he needed to do was be confident in himself and not put too much pressure on himself and, like Amie said…again being right, just be himself.

“Guess I’ll have to catch her later then,” Brie remarked quietly. “Marco, be sure to talk to your friend for us. I think Neal is coming around…” Brie glanced back at her brother who gave a nod, feeling more comfortable about the idea. “You don’t have to do all the work for him but maybe your friend can help make it less painful for my brother. He’s stressing over it enough as it is.”

Marco sighed. How was he always finding himself in these kinds of situations? What started out as a simple family intervention to help Nadie turned into a whole different thing and now he’s somehow tasked with talking to Kylee, who he isn’t even that close with (thanks Lolly for that) and somehow he’s gotta sell the idea that she would do him this favor? “Sure. I’ll see what I can do.” Marco groaned, unable to separate the glaring similarities between his mother and Brie. It was frightening just how much they were like each other.

“Thanks! I’ll make sure to let your mom know how helpful and generous you are next time I go to her salon for my next hair appointment.” Brie blew Marco a kiss and a wink, and turned back around to face her brother, glancing at her cousin. “You’ve certainly surrounded yourself with some enthralling friends, Amie.”

“What can I say,” Amie gave a mischievous grin, alluding to more than she’d ever admit to her baby cousin, “I’m a people person and I know people. If you ever find yourself in need of company, we game every Wednesday night. Maybe, you’ll get to know a little bit more about a certain someone, seeing how that is her happy place. Online with friends. This is honestly a rare occurrence for her so call yourself lucky to have met Lolly in person.”

Brie wasn’t a stranger to gamers nor to the nerd culture as a whole. She would never admit it to anyone who could use it against her, but there were a few small things she enjoyed. A few indulgences that often made her feel somewhat at peace. She could play a mean game of Fortnite when it suited her and even dabbled in some Among Us, but she wouldn’t say she was hardcore like some people were. But maybe now that she had more of a reason than just the appeal she personally found in winding down after cheer practice or having to deal with not just her brothers, but as much as she loved him and how much he’s really stepped up for the family lately, her Uncle Nate was too much to handle some days, maybe now Brie would dive deeper. Because she couldn’t deny that Lolly and her friends intrigued her. The girl herself intrigued the golden-maned supreme.

“Wednesday night huh?” She smiled to herself, realizing she might need to invest in a makeshift set up to make sure this wasn’t going to be in vain. If there was one thing she could take away from Neal’s struggles and generally the Blake Family curse (as it were), first impressions were do or die. She knew she might need to dig into her savings a bit. Her mother started her off early with her own bank account. Her mother, who was an accountant, felt she needed to learn that responsibility early and up until now, Brie never had any reason to use any large quantities of her saved money.

Until now.

When the news that Jamie O’Hara and Russell Lord were arrested in connection of the most recent round of letters that hit Edenridge mailboxes, it came during a time when things were already tense. The letter business specifically was a hot button issue for the force, trying to find who was the culprit and who was making hell for everyone and anyone. Colin was one of many who were on the case, but he could only feel sympathy for those who were most affected this time around.

Colin knew the O’Hara’s almost as well as he could. He’s had a few frequent conversations with John O’Hara, mostly about basketball, about their kids. His heart went out to the man for what he must be going through right now. One of his kids were the subjects of the letters and the other was responsible for it. He wished he had enough time to devote to checking in on John, but between all of the people he interviewed, the witness statements, and then logging it into evidence before heading back out there and doing it all over again (but this time in different areas), Colin couldn’t find the time. They were spread so thin that just about everyone who had a badge was pulling double shifts today and probably would for the foreseeable future.

By the time midday came around, all he wanted to do was go home. All Colin Brady wanted to do was go home, eat some dinner, and pass out, but before then, he needed a pick-me-up. And maybe, it was his own selfishness coming into play because going home meant having to face Marlie, who he promised he’d be home before 3, which he wasn’t.

Yeah, there were a lot of promises he had made to his wife that he hasn’t been keeping as of late.

Parking across the street from Cafe Rochambeau, the seasoned detective went directly inside, feeling a sense of relief that the cool air above compared to how hot it was outside. Immediately, he saw the owner of the establishment greet him with that typical smile that Antoine Beauregard was known for. He waved to the man as he approached the counter. “How are you doing, Beau?” He asked him, Colin’s exhaustion clear in his voice and his eyes. They were bloodshot red. If he weren’t committed to his sobriety, he would have gone to the Hole and got drunk right then and there. Some days, Colin wondered if it was even worth it anymore. He was causing so many problems in his life and all because he’s starting to come to the realization that he and Marlena weren’t doing great. Any excuse he could find to stay out late, asking for more shifts from Chief Windham and trying anything he could to not have to see his wife, Colin had a problem worse than the disease ever gave him.

“I think the better question is, how are you doing, detective?” Beau had heard the rumblings and the musings all day from patrons coming in and out of the cafe about the events that had unfolded on Scott Street that morning. Of course it would be the talk of the town, how could it not be? Drama, intrigue and some of the most prominent fades in Edenridge, it had all the makings of one of those Netflix dramas that his daughters were obsessed with.

Beau had only gotten to teach Jamie O’Hara very briefly. She had moved schools in her freshman year due to her mental health but in the time he did see her and in the moments he had watched on as she grew up into the young woman she was today, he thought her a good person. He still did. From his several decades working for the New Orleans Homicide unit, Beau had learned many hard truths about life, one of which was that the evil of man can sometimes feel like the only option, the only door, the emergency exit. It’s what forces good people to do bad things. He had to admit that he often had to remind himself that there were always, always two doors that could be taken. Jamie and Russell chose the wrong door. He hoped, sincerely, that whatever lay ahead of them, they would choose the other door.

As he slid over to the coffee machine to make Colin’s regular drink, Beau looked at the younger man and waved a finger. “And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know, I always know.”

That was the thing with Beau. In the few times Colin had sat down and had conversations with him, no matter how infrequent and inconsistent they were, he had always surmised that there was no use lying to him. Perhaps that was the eye he once had for the job that never quit. Colin had that particular clairvoyance, but lately he’s been struggling to maintain it. “You can take the job from the man but there’s always a part of it that stays with you, huh?” Colin let out a low laugh, almost like he was mentally kicking himself for thinking he could show up to Beau’s place, regardless of how rare it was for him to come here and not think Antoine would spot the weariness that he thought he was hiding better than he actually was.

“So where shall I start? Been a long day, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Nothing stays a secret in this town for long.” Colin could only think about it again. Jamie O’Hara and Russell Lord. Secrets blew up their lives and so many others. He wondered if the same thing about his marriage and how that was struggling could be next. If something so big as those letters could be found out within a couple of days, what did that mean for such a minor, insignificant-in-comparison thing like his failing marriage? “With Costigan in the hospital, we have been spread far and wide. Most, if not all, of us on the force are pulling double shifts. Haven’t had a wink of sleep since very early this morning. Thought I’d get the best coffee in town. You remember how I like it, right? I know I haven’t been here as much as I would like to.”

“I remember everything, detective. This thing is basically a safe.” Beau tapped the side of his head with his index finger. As he prepares the coffee for Colin just as he always liked, the former detective glanced over at the patriarch of the Brady bunch. The tiredness on his face was obvious, what wasn’t was the borderline frantic playing with his wedding ring. In Beau’s experience, the need to fiddle with one’s forever band meant that there was most certainly trouble in paradise. He had seen it so many times with fellow officers, the job and the street always came first. That’s just the way of the world for a boy in blue. “Things will calm down eventually, you have the perps in custody.” He didn’t really like referring to the kids like that but he would for the sake of Colin. “But it isn’t that what’s really bothering you is it? Why don’t you tell me what’s really happening, Colin?” Beau slid the freshly brewed coffee in front of the other man and smiled. “It won’t leave the room, it’ll be between you, me and Solomon.” The ex teacher motioned to the record player which was playing “Don’t Give Up on Me” by the late great Solo on Burke.

Colin absentmindedly had began to rub his wedding ring. His mind went back to those early days when he first fell in love with Marlena. He was so young and dumb compared to how he was now. He still was foolish but in different ways. Foolish because he couldn’t come to terms that, now they had established themselves as genuine members of the town and even to the point where Marlie, his kids, and even himself had the respect of so many people, Colin could feel the weight of all of that trying everything it could to crush him. He sprung Marlena from her home in Phoenix, the threat of her father forcing them to leave the country and go on the run for years. He knows she resents him for that. Look how he treated her now? Avoided her like the plague and finding every excuse he could not to see her when she was awake.

And of course, the ever keen eye of Antoine Beauregard had seen that. Maybe subconsciously, the Brady Patriarch had wanted to talk about it, but too stubborn to admit he needed to vent and certainly too stubborn to see Shannon Ramsay about it, though lord knew that’s what he needed. So maybe this was the closest thing he would ever come to it - at least until he swallowed his pride and admitted he needed help because this was undoubtedly the closest he’s ever come to wanting to throw away over twenty years of sobriety.

Before speaking, Colin took the coffee and took a small sip from the steaming mug. Bitter with a slight hazelnut note. It reminded him of the coffee back in Phoenix, where he had spent the better part of his 20s in before moving abroad.. “I’m not sure where I should start.” Colin took another sip and pondered quietly for a few moments. In those moments, he thought back on the years spent on the road. First Ireland, then Spain and how his wish to be with Marlie took her away from her family. Without even realizing it, he said out loud, “I’m a fool. Marlena sacrificed so much for me. She left her family, left her life in Phoenix because she loved me. Now how do I repay her? I tell her we should move here, give the small town life a try. Sure, we have been here for six years now and it’s been wonderful. We both have great job, friends, and our kids all thrive in their own way - but at what cost, Antoine? I avoid her most of the time until I can’t stomach my shame and go home and when I am home, we’re either fighting most of the time or we hardly speak.” He didn’t mean to unleash everything and he knows he’s absolutely in the wrong for everything. Colin knew it as soon as he took that first sip from the mug. “We just haven’t been the same since our oldest, Marco, was shot by Decker.” That was a moment that Colin truly started to feel as much of a failure his father-in-law used to call him, especially when he was actually trying to use his son’s horrific near-death experience as some excuse as to why his marriage was suffering.

Beau had seen this dark cloud before. Too many times than he would like to admit if he was Frank. There is an idea, a thought, a wish that any man or woman who wears a badge that allows them to protect and serve, should be perfect. They are expected to follow the law to the letter, to be free of sun and be paragons of virtue and grace. This simply was not the case, how could it be? When one’s job was to gaze upon the bodies of children with holes in their head, leaking out brain matter on their seventh birthday or something just as heinous, how could someone be perfect? Everyone had a vice, something that wasn’t right but it helped them cope with the evil that men can do. Some turned to the very drugs they took off of the street, others alcohol and others dove into the world of sex, whatever the vice, there was always a cop behind it.

“Your family went through trauma and it no doubt weighs heavy on the soul for you that your job is to protect and serve but you couldn’t do a single thing that day. Neither could I.” Antoine remembered it so vividly. He remembered every face in the crowd of parents drowning in anguish. The memory of every student, fear on their young faces. The screams. God the screams. “The job always comes first but what you have to remember, nobody, no victim that don’t matter. You not talking to your wife, during your shit? That makes her a victim. Make sure she matters.”

If Colin didn’t know it any better, he swore he was talking, confiding, and getting harsh truths from his own father. Sean Brady was the same as Antoine Beauregard when they gave advice. Both were worldly but both could also give you the harsh truth, whether you asked for it or not. Colin’s relationship with his father was strained. Has been for years. Yet he was still getting the same advice that cocky bastard old man of his would give out from someone who walked the same life he did. Sean Brady was a retired Boston detective, so he knew just like Antoine knew what Colin had to do.

As he pondered what Antoine said, Colin pulled out his shield and looked at it for the longest time. It felt like hours to him because the weight it carried, the sacrifices he had to make to be the best detective he could be, in his heart he knew what the wise sage that owned this cafe was right. He knew everything uttered the minute he walked through those doors and felt the rush of the AC hit him, was nothing but the truth. “I swear I never thought I’d be this kind of man. Not just a cop, because lord knows when I was a stupid kid, the last thing I wanted to become was just like my old man. But also a bad husband like he was. I didn’t realize just how much I was like him until this very moment passed by. He sacrificed a lot for the sake of the job and now I’m no better than he was.” That’s the part that stung Colin the most. It wasn’t the fact that he felt like he was failing Marlie as a husband or he was taking her for granted. It was that despite everything he tried, despite every fiber in his being that never wanted to be just like Sean, the truth of the matter was simple. Colin and Sean were no different.

Well, at least that’s what he used to think. Colin understood everything that Antoine said was the truth and that there was one thing he could do to change the course of his life. Colin put his shield back into his pocket and leaned forward somewhat. “We’re so disconnected at this point. Where do I even start?” Colin took another sip from the coffee in front of him, trying to find the answer himself but coming up with nothing. He knew he should find the answer for himself, but damn it if he didn’t even know where to start.

“How about a cup of coffee?” Beau said playfully before he took a sip from his own mug of Java behind the counter, his chocolate eyes smiling at the younger cop. He looked over to the large bookshelf that covered his back wall and his gaze fell upon a particular hook in red binding. Knowing what little he did about the Brady-Castillo’s family, it felt appropriate reading material. “I think that one of these days...you’re going to have to find out where you want to go. And then you’ve got to start going there. But immediately. You can’t afford to lose a minute.” Antoine waxed lyrical as he quoted Catcher in the Rye. “The simplest step forward Colin is to take a step back. Take Marlie out, search and find that thing that brought you together in the first place and think about the you back then and where you wanted to go. Are you there now? If not, why not?”

He understood what Antoine was meaning and what he actually needed to do, but part of him laughed (not outwardly but internally) at the suggestion of him and Marlie going back to what brought them together. In his mind, he knew that was dangerous in itself because what brought them together was danger. It was the danger of her being Emilio Castillo’s only daughter, the daughter that Colin was a bodyguard of sorts to at the time because of some…not so wise choices he made while he lived in Phoenix. Choices that came with unforeseen consequences. “You’ve been around the scene of organized crime enough, right? Marlena is a former cartel princess, if you’d believe that. I got neck deep in with her father when I was in my 20s. Caught me on the job with some of my favorite white powder and my old partner, Jack Daniels, and forced me to do his bidding. Work for him. I caused a lot of people to get entangled in my mess. Something I’m still dealing with to this very day.”

Colin’s mind immediately went to his sister Corinne and how she got entangled with Donghai/Douglas Chang. Perhaps if he wasn’t fooling around in Phoenix, he could have stopped her from making such a huge mistake. Lately, Colin was full of regrets. “So our beginnings aren’t what you might call healthy, but maybe it wasn’t all bad. Back then, I was out of my mind but she always made me feel right. No matter the consequences, she always made me feel like I could be better. She still does.” And maybe that’s what hurt the most for Colin. She had never been anything but the best wife anyone could ask for. In return, he’s avoided her, blamed himself, and buried himself into work to the point where it became his life.

He looked at Antoine. “Maybe you’re right. Not sure if we could recreate our beginnings because that would be next to impossible now, but you’ve given me an idea that might work.” It was a long shot, but maybe what they needed was time away. Time to fix themselves. “Think I might put in for a few vacation days. Maybe starting Thursday and into Saturday.”

Beau smiled as he could tell that his words were climbing the wall and dropping into Colin’s heart, where he hoped like a flower, they would take root and grow and force the police officer to reach up towards the sun for nourishment, the sun being his lovely family. “It ain’t never gonna be like it was but all you can do is try. You got babies and they’re worth more than any amount of money or object or excitement in this entire cosmos. Love, Detective. It’s what makes the world go round.”

Turning away for a second, Antoine began to search around his countertops for something. He lifted mugs, plates and trays until his ham hock hands found one of his beloved books with an envelope sticking out. He plucked the white sealed pack delm the yellowed page and spun back to face Colin. “Here.” Beau offered up the envelope to the detective and his face was soon covered by his big grin once again. “There’s a hockey game this weekend. Collie and I were given some tickets a while ago but she’s out of town visiting our daughter Genevieve in New York. Why don’t you take Marlie down? Eat some hot dogs, shout obscenities at teenagers playing a game. Get your blood pumping and just be in a moment together.”

Even as Antoine was speaking, Colin opened the package and saw exactly what it was as the cafe owner explained. Two tickets to a hockey game. Colin found himself half-grinning. It brought memories back to a time shortly before they moved to Edenridge. To a time before they had settled on the quaint, though now-cursed, town of Edenridge, Mass. It was when they finally moved back to Phoenix, after so many years of being away the life Colin had built there and the life Marlena had there, when her father grew weary of hating everything about Colin. During those few years spent in the southwest, Colin would regularly take him and his family to soccer games. To football games. When Marco developed a love for soccer, which he had in Ireland and Spain, they went to more and more. It was something that not only made them all feel closer as a family, but it was important to Marlie. She wanted them to know their culture and Colin remembered just being happy that she was able to smile again.

Hockey wasn’t soccer by any means, but there were still those memories of being at a sporting event that was from a better time. It was just a small step, but as he looked at Antoine, he smiled and nodded. He pocketed the tickets in his shirt pocket. “I’ll do that. I’ll have an extra one just for you. Boston dogs are the best, after all.” The Irish man laughed a bit too hard.

“Good, because I’m off the processed meats.” Beau tapped his gut and let out a heart laugh. “Collie got me on a diet.” He smiled towards Colin as the bell rang to signify a new customer entering the Rochambeau. “Sorry Detective, duty calls.” He pointed to the Brady patriarch's pocket where he had placed the tickets. “Remember, go, have fun. Leave the badge and gun at home, just for one night: You and the Mrs need to be Colin and Marlie again and when it’s all said and done, come back here and I’ll reserve you my finest booth.”

. The comment he made about his wife having him on a diet was something he could relate to. He understood it more than anyone else, when your wife did something like that, doing something that seemed like over worrying or too controlling, it came from a place of love and concern.

After it was said and done, Colin asked for a dozen benguits and a few pastries. If he was finally going to make it home, which according to his watch was a lot sooner than he initially thought he might, Colin didn’t want to come empty handed. On his Tupper App, Marlie asked if he could bring her and the kids something back and even though he brushed her off, not thinking much about it, he was in a better mindset to actually follow through. At the very least, maybe this could lead to a better peace offering than being home before the sun fell on Edenridge.

With the bag in hand, Colin left a twenty to cover the cost of the coffee and the newly ordered beignets. “Take it easy, Antoine. I’ll be sure to yell some colorful curses at them kids just for you.” Colin pocketed his wallet and left the cafe.

When he reached his truck, a 2015 Chevy Silverado, he sat in the driver’s seat. Thinking. It wasn’t turned on yet because Colin found himself in a deep thought. He spent close to ten minutes thinking about the makeshift therapy session he had with Antoine, everything the older man said, everything that Colin said and came to realize about himself. That he came to realize about his marriage. The great disconnect between him and Marlie was the root of it all. He made it worse by putting so much blame on himself and maybe that was also part of it, but they needed to find themselves again. He needed it as much as she did.

As soon as he figured that out, Colin could go home with a slightly less clouded mind, but more importantly, he was ready to face his wife.

In the Silverheel barn, which was weathered over the tide of time, up a flight of stairs, no door to separate the ground level from the second floor, Penelope sat on a maroon couch, wrapped in a mustard blanket. Almost all the furniture in this small hayloft had a previous life, similar to the items that could be found in her mother’s shop, Well Loved Wonders. The soul of the barn kept safe the memories of good times and a blessing that spanned generations.

As Dirty Harry played in the background, Forrest sitting beside her quietly, respectfully using his own blanket, Poppy’s green eyes explored his room. From the bookshelf filled with cooking and recipe books to the bed with the handmade solid wood frame, she could see a little glimpse of his personality even if it wasn’t much. Seeing his room made her realize how much more she had in comparison to him and that he likely used most of his money for his business on wheels.

Penelope appreciated his willingness to watch something from her little box of memories and hoped next time he would choose something from his. One would say Dirty Harry was just an extension of Eastwood’s basic screen character. Clint Eastwood was good at playing the productive tough guy with a quiet demeanor and a bottled-up capacity for violence. What makes this film intriguing is Police Inspector Harry Callahan understood his legal responsibility and duties as a police officer, and the Bill of Rights, and yet followed his own code. His own code which led to his actions of taking retribution into his own hands, becoming what we all know as ‘the bad cop’. To catch a criminal, a man needs to think like one.

To change society, a man must become exactly what they fear…

For a moment, she could see parts of Charlie and hear his voice and the awful things he said to her when he was taking a turn for the worse. How the world was a filthy, hopeless place and that there was just so much pain, he would be doing it a favor by making it all go away. At the time, she didn’t realize how lost he was and that his compass, his code, was buried by hate and self loathing. He became unreachable and refused to let anyone be there for him. When the thoughts reached her chest, causing it to painfully ache, she desperately grabbed Forrest’s hand and held him tight, grasping for something present as she redirected her mind to someone else.

That someone else being her English professor, now boss at Cafe Rochambeau. Mr. Beau. He would go on and on about ‘a man’s got to have a code.’ He had explained to the class that without a hard code, that we refuse to break, our beliefs are at the mercy of external forces. Without a code, our belief system loses its value. A code couldn’t be something easily manipulated, like being a good person. Being a good person can justify vastly different behaviors. A code was more like unbreakable rules that set you on the path to being good, or bad, depending on your choice. Without a code, a man would be lost, creating cognitive dissonance. They went against their beliefs because they broke their code. She knew by the time she could reach Charlie, by the time he was willing to give her a chance again, he had already broken his code and lost himself. She couldn’t find him and that fucking sucked.

“Resi…” Penelope whispered, as the movie was coming to an end. “What keeps you from breaking? How are you so strong?” Her glossy eyes glimmered in the dark, with the TV light on his desk shining on their faces. “Sorry, completely random I know,” she apologized and released his hand, loosening the blanket around her so that she could hug her knees. “I know you go to the place that reminds you what not to become but that’s got to be tough, right? That’s got to be hard…”

That was a very loaded question and Forrest really didn’t know where it came from considering how they were watching Clint Eastwood’s magnum opus. The squeeze of Poppy’s hand on his had filled him with butterflies and made it extremely difficult for him to think of a straight answer for her. “Hm.” He mused, filling the air with a hum to mask his thoughts. “I mean yeah it’s hard and some days, I can’t bring myself to go there. You know? I close my eyes and I see things that I wish I didn’t. I’m not as strong as you think. I have a lot of help.”

Resi shifted a little closer to the ghost girl on the other side of the couch and rested his arm on its back. “Like my aunt Jadyn, Creator bless her, she might be a bit of a wild child but she gave everything to us kids. Mitena has always been my rock. She’s my best friend. Whenever it got to me, the dark thoughts, Tena just knew you know? She’d come up those stairs and she’d always just….I don’t know, you know. She just found a way of being there for me.”

His eyes drifted to the open barn window that overlooked the rolling field of Silverheel. “When I would get home from working a shitty job, covered in dirt, aching all over and questioning why I even bothered to suck air, I would look out of that window and I would see Illara playing or dancing or she’d be running from the main house to greet me. I would see the little smile on her face and that gave me all the strength I could ever need. She’s the reason I carried on. She’s the reason I’m here. I have to take care of my baby sister and give her the life she deserves.”

“So you live for family,” Penelope uttered in response, resting her head on her knees. She sat in the silence, thinking of those she had that were still alive, who would be devastated to see her go. She remembered the first year of grief after the shooting she would try to use shards from mirrors to cut herself. Her father had to remove all mirrors like they were in a supernatural fiction story and mirrors were a portal to another world.

She wondered what was keeping her here, why did she keep fighting? It certainly wasn’t her family, seeing how she thought her friends wanted nothing to do with her, her mother can’t seem to let go of Maxine's memory, and her dad… was a weathered down rock, who needed saving too. She wondered why, after all this time, after losing someone she considered her world, she still was fighting for air. Fighting to breathe.

Maybe, the answer was simple.

Maybe she was simply abiding by her code. Her code to never give up, no matter how hard things got. No matter how lost and empty she felt. No matter the circumstances. Do not give up. She didn’t break mirrors to kill herself. She broke them because she hated seeing her face. She hated looking at herself. She wanted to cut not because it could kill her but because those scars would remind her that she was still very much alive.

Mentally, she was probably a basket case now that she thought about it. Losing Charlie made her go absolute batshit crazy. She was so dependent on someone else, on his love, his validation, and his happiness, that she lost her identity and because of that, when she looked in the mirror she saw no one. She was nothing without Charlie Decker.

Now, little by little, she was becoming someone. She was finding herself, outside of her family, outside of her friends, and outside of her love for Charlie. Little by little, she was becoming Poppy. Releasing her hold on her legs, she adjusted her body, where she sat on her knees and her legs laid to one side, facing the opposite direction of Resi. She leaned into him for support and looked up, gazing into his eyes, “No more sad talk, let’s play… the question game. I’ll start. In five years, where do you see your life? Career wise, family wise, whatever you feel comfortable with sharing.”

It was amazing how swiftly Resi felt he had become close to Poppy James. The way she leaned into him was reminiscent of someone who had been in his life for years rather than a matter of twenty four hours. She had integrated herself seamlessly into his life as if she had always been there and it was something that he didn’t want to change. The more time he spent with the offcomer, the more Resi found himself completely and utterly enamored with her. “The hopeful answer is maybe I’ll be chefing in a five star establishment, likely a sous chef since I won’t get to be a head until I’ve like, seriously got my feet under the table. I’ll be watching Illy go from strength to strength, hopefully I’d have met a girl that would want to be with me and the truck would be my side gig for the weekends. For fun, you know?” Without really thinking, Forrest wrapped his arm around Pops and held her close in his embrace. “The honest answer is I’ll likely still be sweating my ass off in that deathtrap, giving food away to those that don’t have but deserve everything.”

“And if that’s the case, at least you love what you’re doing,” Penelope smiled at him and leaned her head against his chest, not even thinking how odd it must be to be this comfortable with someone. To those she surrounded herself with, personal boundaries were rarely a thing and Resi was no exception. She wasn’t even thinking about it really. All she was thinking about was keeping her mind out of her own dark place and focusing on her friend, learning as much as she could for the time they had left together.

“Though, if you need a little cheerleader to push you to achieve greatness, I can be that for you. I know some things like opportunity require luck but that doesn’t mean you can’t aim for it. And hey, you’ll have little ol’ me trying to keep your spirits up.” Poppy giggled, amused at her own words and at the thought of her wearing a Clover uniform, attempting to do one of their routines. She would never be caught dead in a cheer uniform but she did like rooting for her friends and their happinesses. Little Cheerleader Poppy. “Okay,” she patted his chest, “Your turn. Ask me a question.”

Resi had to shake out the image of Penelope in a cheerleaders outfit from his mind's eye before responding to her. He couldn’t deny his attraction to the pale girl but he also knew that there was a fragility to her. He could see that beneath the surface of her body of glass there was a heart made of iron, pumping petrol and gas into her veins and igniting the fire that was Poppy James. He had already made the decision that he would ask her out when the time was right; it was only a matter of time.

“Okay.” He was debating how deep to go with his question. Having had the debrief from Mitena about her misadventures with the Edenridge offcomers, he knew bringing up his cousin Charlie would definitely be a taboo subject yet Forrest couldn’t deny his curiosity, they were family after all. “Why did you decide to stay here tonight? With me? Being a stranger in a strange land can’t be easy. Why put yourself through it?”

“Hm,” Poppy James looked at her hand that rested on his chest. Why did she stay? It was clear that the reservation was doing wonders to her. In less than twenty four hours she’s made more progress than she’s ever made in the past two years. In less than twenty four hours she could eat a little more, she could smile a little bigger, and she could breathe a little better. The weight of the town, of Charlie’s crimes, was not on her shoulders here. She still had her ptsd, and she still struggled with letting him go, but here, on this spiritual land, she felt a sense of belonging, like she was meant to be here. “I guess I don’t feel like a stranger. Even if my friends, like Mordechai, have been here before, even if my parents did what they could to keep me protected and not stray too far, I feel more myself here than I’ve ever felt in a long time.” She closed her eyes and listened to Forrest’s breathing. His heartbeat. “I feel seen, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Silence filled the room as she realized she didn’t fully answer his question. That answered why she wanted to stay here but not why with him. Was it weird that she felt this comfortable with a stranger? Opening her eyes, she let her hand trail down to his and rested her smaller one on top of his bigger one, looking at their size difference. She was always so tiny and frail in comparison to others. His hands were a little rough, a clear sign of someone who worked with his hands everyday, but she also saw a tenderness to them. Someone who put love and care in everything he created and everything he did. “I like you, Resi. I’m unsure of the why and how, but I like being near you. You’ve been extremely honest to me and it’s like we’ve been friends all our lives. I feel safe when I’m with you so that’s likely part of the reason why I wanted to stay here. I wanted to be with you.”

Oblivious to how romantic she was sounding, Poppy laid her heart out for a boy she just met but wasn’t thinking about anything beyond the moment they shared together. Most people would sweat saying something like this. It was practically a confession but for Poppy she didn’t see it as one. She saw it as her way of being true to herself and saying exactly what was on her mind. Right now, in her mind, all the grief, all the trauma, and all the tragedy was shelved like a book, and she was sitting by a fireplace with a boy she felt a strong connection to. He warmed her and comforted her. She hoped she provided something for him too.

How could he not be swooning from those words? At that moment, staring into Penelope’s big green eyes, Forrest knew that he wanted to kiss her. Yet he got the sense from her that she may not be so massively experienced in the area of romance as others their age. He had to quickly mull over what the best thing to do was in this situation before the moment passed them by and they were left asking themselves what if. “I really like you Poppy.” Resi began. “I like you being here with me.”

Rather than rush, the young cook took his time. With his free hand, he gently brushed a loose chestnut hair from Penelope’s face and tucked it behind her ear. He could feel himself becoming untethered, floating into the emerald forests in her eyes where he would become lost. He cupped her small chin and leaned down to bring his lips to hers gently. He lingered for a brief time before backing away and allowing her the space to process what had just happened. The butterflies in his gut had turned into a murder of crows flying wildly together through a storm of chaos.

Forrest really wanted to kiss her again.

“I don’t….so….” He sighed through his nose as he tried to find the words to say. Forrest had been in relationships before, he had been through meaningless hook-ups and everything in between. He understood that whatever was connecting him and Pops was different, at least in his mind and he hoped, prayed to the Creator and spirits that he hadn’t misread her and that he hadn’t just ruined every right. “Was that ok?”

In that gesture, Penelope started noticing other things she hadn’t before. His breath she could feel on her now kissed pink cheeks. It remained steady even if his brown eyes betrayed him, showing how worried and lost in the moment he was with her. His hold around her was firm. It wasn’t tight to the point that it felt crushing but it did show signs of desire, need and want. She noticed how natural her frame fit in his arms, as if this was something they’ve done before. Her own breathing had picked up, something she had clearly disconnected with before he kissed her, before his soft lips touched hers... was her breathing always this obvious?

Poppy placed her hand on the back of his neck, letting her fingers feel the many strands of hair, curling one around her pointer finger. There was so much curiosity and desperate yearning in her green eyes. Her delicate smile and deep blushing of the face was far more telling than anything she could say right now. Vulnerable and trembling from anxiety, a little worried she was too out of her element, Poppy’s gaze, tender and full of love, continued to pull him in, whether she was aware of it or not. She felt like she could see his soul and he could see her’s. In the silence, she felt seen. She felt needed and adored. She felt wanted.

What she was feeling couldn’t really be put into words. All she knew was she didn’t want it to stop. All she knew was her impulses wanted to keep going, and her thoughts were clouded by a feverish dream. All she knew was she was starting to see a new beginning and that new beginning started with Forrest. “I’d like to do that again, Resi,” she whispered, as she stared longingly into his dark gaze.

The elation when Forrest heard those words. He didn’t want to ruin whatever was happening between them but it seemed that Penelope was on the same wavelength as him. “I can arrange that.” He whispered back as he cupped her face and followed her command. Resi gently pulled the ghost girl's face to his and their mouths crashed together in a loving embrace. With their lips dancing slowly together, Forrest guided her body closer, which was easy as Poppy was as light as a feather or perhaps she just didn’t feel that way because he was so absolutely, utterly lost in her.

As he led, Penelope followed, moving in tandem with his lips and his body. The warmth radiating from him and his hot lips only made her lean into him more, until she had turned and found herself laying on top of him, unsure if she pushed him down or if he turned himself and let her thin frame adjust in his embrace like a puzzle piece. Taking little sips of breaths, Poppy opened her eyes to see his glinting with the reflected moon, deeply staring at her. Her heart beated out of control as she held onto his head. She clung to him, having not realized how desperate she wanted intimacy. How lonely she was until now.

Pulling away to catch her breath, Poppy stroked Resi’s cheek. She proceeded to run her hand through his hair and gave his handsome face a closer look. The sounds that could be heard in the barn were only that of their breathing. Disrupting the quiet with her feathery and silvery voice, Poppy stated, “I come with a lot of issues, Forrest… and I still have a long way to go.” Biting her bottom lip, she revealed, afraid he was signing up for something he would regret later on, “I can’t promise you I’ll be the easiest person to deal with. And there’s days I get very sad and very mad. And everything in between. I want you in my life, there’s no doubt about that. But I also don’t want my grief to ruin this. I just… I don’t know... This is all very new to me and I don’t want this feeling to go away. I want to explore it. I just need help, I guess? I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Resi had to break himself away from staring at Poppy biting her lip so that he could focus on what she was saying to him and the importance of those words. He traced lines over the small piece of exposed back that her sundress allowed as he directed his smile into her big green eyes. “It’s all very new to me too.” Forrest would argue that despite their different definitions of new that they would be on the same wavelength.

The young cook had been in relationships previously, he had hooked up with people and it seemed clear that his and Poppy’s experience levels were far different. Yet when he said it was new, for him, he meant the feeling that was growing in his chest, this indescribable feeling that the ghost girl caused inside of him. “We can go as fast or as slow as you want.” Forrest gently brushed the back of her hair with his hand. “I wasn’t expecting you, you came out of nowhere and now we’re here. And I guess now the next step we take is together, be it a small or a big one.”

“…so we’re together?” Penelope asked, a little in disbelief even after they kissed. “You want to be with me?” She had only met Resi yesterday and yet, here they were on his couch kissing like they’ve done it their whole lives. She didn’t want to get too carried away in the moment because what if that pushed him away? She didn’t know if she should be cautious or throw caution to the wind and chase this feeling. Chase this feeling that she was too scared to run after before. Chase this feeling straight to a door that led to so many unknowns but could mean something wonderful was waiting for her on the other side. Chase this feeling straight into a loving embrace where she was wanted and loved. Where she was someone’s choice not regret or burden. Where she was someone’s hearth and home. Where she was simply someone’s.

“I know what I’d like.” She softly said, wanting to kiss him again and be with him. She wanted more days with him and when she’d leave the Reservation, she knew she’d be waiting with bated breath for his next text, his next call and his next visit. Her heart hadn’t fluttered like this in years and now she had someone she wanted to learn and grow with. She had someone she wanted to stand next to, during her hardships, during his, and all the possible good that comes with their journey, together. Keeping Charlie’s memory on the back burner, not letting the feeling of betrayal ruin this for her, she traced her fingers on Resi’s features. Focused on him and no one else. She smiled at this boy, not too long ago a stranger, who was winning her over as fast as lightning and she knew it was only a matter of time where she’d try to catch it and keep her lighting in a bottle close to her heart. She wanted to be with him.

As he held the small woman in his calloused workers hands and listened to her words, Resi could feel the duality that was Penelope James. In his hands, she was fragile, delicate but that was just her body: inside she was tough, harder than stone and had suffered more than anyone that young should. He wasn’t sure what future awaited them, he tried his best not to think about what was to come but more on what already was. In that moment shared together in the barn, they were present and together and if Forrest had his way, they would be for much much longer.

He watched the cogs turn between woodland greens as she likely pursued her feelings down the labyrinth of her mind. They had only known each other a short time and they lived in different towns. Could distance temper wild hearts? Not if Resi had anything to say about it. He was willing to do the work and he hoped that she would too. There was something special between them and they owed it to the past selves, the ones that ached from trauma, to chase happiness. “What would you like, Poppy?”

Anxiety sat in her throat when he asked her that question. Rather than answer him immediately, she gave him a little peck on the lips before brushing her nose against his. Poppy let his question sit a little longer as she wondered if this would lead to more pain or not. She shouldn’t think of all that. That was part of her problem. She waited on others before ever considering her own wants and needs. Before ever jumping. If she wanted this, she needed to commit and not look back. She needed to make a choice for herself and no one else. She needed to live. “I would like us to date and see where that takes us. I want to be with you. I don’t want to lose my chance and wonder what could’ve been. I will admit, I’m a little nervous. But that doesn’t deny the fact that I’m really into you and I want to keep kissing you.”

“I’m really into you and I want to keep kissing you too.” Forrest held his ghost girl tight as he sat up with her in his arms, her legs falling to his waist. “And I want to explore this feeling with you. So I guess we’re dating now.” His grin was wide and cheeky, all bright teeth framed by his dark tanned skin. “I guess if we’re dating I should probably teach you more about this indigenous thing we call kissing.” His thumb drifted lightly across her thick lips as his other hand softly cupped her alabaster face. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“I’d like to think I’m a good student,” Penelope smirked, glancing down at his chest and then back up, from under her lashes. “So tell me, teacher,” she played along. “What’s next on the lesson plan?”

Of course his room was the typical organised mess that it always was. His clothes, which mostly consisted of flannel shirts and dark jeans lay strung across the floor in crumpled heaps of adolescent laziness whereas the things he was the most passionate about, his books and his records were nearly tidied away. On the far wall was his bookcase, filled to the brim, overflowing even with classic literature and modern masterpieces. Whenever anyone was deemed worthy enough to enter his sanctum sanctorum, the one question he was always asked was if he had read them all? Of course he had and more than once.

For him, literature was life. Ancient words in dusty books written by long dead, uneducated men and women were the lifeblood that livened his soul, that set his mind on fire and made everything make sense. He took care of those books like they were his children. The same could be said of the vast collection of vinyl records he had sat in several boxes, alphabetised of course near his window. The amount of noise complaints that he had could fill one of his beloved books but luckily the police had very little care for a teenage boy playing his music too loud on the Southside.

The bed wasn’t made, it never was and the curtains were drawn, which it only ever was when he didn’t want to be disturbed. The rest of the time, he left them open so he could easily make his escape next door to Poppy’s. Though, of course, Natalia knew all that. She had spent enough time in his fortress of solitude to know where everything was without him having to tell her. She knew where he would be before she even opened the door; sat at his desk, head down as he scribbled onto a bit of paper, pouring into his words the thousand and one burning thoughts that ate away at his brain like a wild beast, if he didn’t get them out he would explode. That’s just the way it was.

When she entered the room, he didn’t raise his head, he didn’t turn to look, he remained silent as he scratched away at the sheet filled with his innermost commentary. After a few more quiet moments, Charlie placed his pen down and turned in his chair to face the girl with the galaxy eyes.

“Hey.”

"Hey, Char."

Ever since witnessing Charlie's premature demise, Natalia's nights had hovered between periods of insomnia and periods of lucid dreaming. In the times her body gave way to exhaustion, her dreams were often similar. She'd enter the Southie boy's room to find her friend sitting by his desk with his head down and a pen in his hand, scribbling away about whatever topic had inspired his musings of the day. She'd lay down in his bed, and he'd choose to stay in his desk chair or lay down next to her, allowing them some time to cuddle. No matter where Charlie opted to be, the rest of the dream was always the same: she'd open her heart out to discuss whatever situation was at the time, the young man listened to her and provided her with his wise advice once she was finished expressing herself. She'd wake up from these dreams momentarily at peace with herself, and with a clear head about how she needed to proceed with whatever was bothering her. But reality was as quick to set in as the tears that followed, and she'd spend anywhere between minutes or hours curled up in a ball in a corner of her bedroom, sobbing uncontrollably while wrestling with the guilt, grief, regrets and sadness that often engulfed her when it came to the topic of Charlie Decker.

"What's the topic of the day?" She asked her friend, crossing the room and making herself comfortable by lying on his bed.

“The great duality of man and the importance of finding normalcy in the smallest of things.” Charlie followed the Italian beauty, rotating his chair so that he could face her when she took her place on his bed. She looked tired, worn down but that always seemed to be the case when Natalia strolled through that door. He was the symptom of a greater problem in her life which he could only try to provide a solution for. “Also you’re totally hooking up with my little sister, so that should make for an interesting chapter.” His face was plastered with that goofy smirk that had been seen by so rare a few while he was still alive. Whenever Charlie smiled, it was infectious and freeing, “She’s kinda great, right?”

Natalia couldn't help but grimace at his words. The topic of her involvement with Mitena wasn’t something she had expected to discuss with him so soon. She’d hoped to ease into it, slowly building up to it before putting it all out there. But she should’ve known Charlie better than to think he wouldn’t just want to cut the chit chat and get down to it.

"So you know about that, huh?" she sheepishly asked the dark-haired man in an attempt to stall the conversation, a telling hint of pink on her cheeks. Of course he knew about that. He was a part of her. He went where she went, saw what she saw, felt what she felt.

“I mean, who do you think sent you to her in the first place?” Charlie pushed himself up to his feet, his tall frame nearly hitting the lightbulb above him. In one stride, the once aspiring writer made his way from the desk to his bed and stood over Tal for a second. He could read her like her book, a skill that he never really learned but something that just sort of was. He always knew what Natalia needed. They were connected that way.

Sitting down on the bed next to her, Charlie brushed a loose strand of her dark hair away from her face, her big green eyes meeting his dark ones. “Hi.” He said quietly. “Don’t do your Tal thing where you don’t say shit. You’re here with me. You’re safe.”

The girl next to him shot him a half-smile and nodded, shifting around so her head would be on his lap. "I know. You know I trust you. It's just… I've got a lot of thoughts and feelings about what happened those days… I don't even know where to start."

“Well.” Charlie began as he gently stroked Tal’s soft temple with the tips of his fingers, tracing the freckles that he adored on her alabaster skin. “Let’s try and boil this down to a base, pure form.” The lanky boy adjusted his position on the bed to allow for Natalia to be a little more comfortable as she rested on him. He leaned himself back against the backboard of his bed as his touch moved to a spot just behind her ear. “I already know that you're being eaten alive by your guilt. No need to open that specific can of beans just yet, so why don’t you just tell me how you felt when you were with her?” Charlie used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Forget all the other pieces that were screaming and focus on the one that whispered. Was there a connection?”

"Well, yeah," Natalia confirmed nonchalantly, picking at a strand of frayed fabric on Charlie's dark denim jeans. "She's without a doubt the most beautiful girl I've laid my eyes on. I looked like absolute garbage and could barely string two words together the first time I saw her in the longhouse bathroom. Yet she looked at me like she’d just found a $100 bill on the ground, took me by the hand, snatched me away into the night and made me feel things I never thought I would in the first place. I wouldn't have let it go anywhere if I hadn’t felt there was a genuine connection."

"But it's all really fucking scary too, Char. She was talking about setting my world on fire, wanting me to be her next adventure and how she'd chase me to the ends of the Earth and all that-- and as much as I want to believe she's telling the truth, a part of me just… can't do it…" the girl admitted tearfully, the fear she felt about these emotions ringing clear in her voice. "I want to see where things could go, but I'm fucking terrified of getting disappointed again. Any time I catch feelings for someone, I end up being the one that falls the hardest and getting broken up with. I couldn't get Niles Sinclair to love me. I know that split was on me: that I should've been kinder and more understanding of him. I shouldn't have expected or demanded so much from someone still dealing with the loss of his mother. I understand that now in a way I wish I didn’t. But it doesn't change the fact that I still got hurt. I couldn't get Creed and Jokes to stay with me, even when it was literally the healthiest relationship I've ever been in. I couldn't stop Kylee Grimm from up and ghosting me and then acting as if the time we spent together was worth horse shit. I couldn't even give you enough reasons to give me a chance. Every person I've fallen in love with has just left me and eventually moved on with someone else-- like I'm just a pit stop along the way but never the final destination. I’m never the person they want to be with forever. I guess I’m just that insufferable."

“To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance….Oscar Wilde.” Charlie quoted, as he so often did. “Life and love are series of exploits like pages in a book. Every page is a new adventure with its own beginning, middle and end. Every person in your life is a page. Some will make you laugh and some cry. What matters is what you take from those pages.” The indigenous boy drifted his fingers over Natalia’s soft arm as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Every lesson you learn from a failed love is to teach you something about yourself, so that you can love yourself."

"'Love myself'?" Natalia repeated with a disbelieving snort. "Char, honey, I know that to everyone on the outside it might seem like I'm this strong and confident force to be reckoned with, but I don't think there's anyone out there who hates me more than I hate myself. The only thing I've learned from all those pages you're talking about is how terribly flawed I am, to smoke weed and to be bitter at fucking everything."

Charlie sighed a little through his nose. The poor girl that had curled herself up into his lap was truly in a great amount of pain. “In that case, you know where my stash is.” He opened his eyes and looked up towards the ceiling, a specific section which was loose was the focus of his gaze. “Though if you want it, you’re gonna have to go up and get it. Use your rangy ass to stand up there and find some roll ups that are about three years old.” He let out a soft laugh while the girl joined him. Only Charlie could be deadly serious and talk absolute nonsense at the same time.

"I can’t promise that Mitena is the right person for you. I don’t have that power. What I can tell you is that she has the best heart and that she wants to give it to you. Whether you give her yours? That is beyond my spooky ghost powers to predict….so is eating. I’m not allowed to eat anymore. I miss bagels with salmon.” He joked as he wrapped Tal’s hair in ringlets.

Natalia momentarily smiled at his joke, but her face was quick to return to its solemn state. "I just… I don't want to get hurt again. I've spent so much time picking up and putting back the pieces of myself-- which feels impossible most times, because I'm nowhere near whole and I don't think I'll ever be-- that I don't think I have it in me to fail at this again. And it’s not like I’ll be any good for her either, Char. She deserves someone way better than me. I've got nothing to offer the poor girl except a whole lot of baggage and trauma and insecurities. She'll always be too good for me, and I'll probably never be good enough for anyone else, either. It's just… It’s just something I have to get used to."

As he stroked her face and hair, Natalia turned her head slightly so that he could see deep into those beautiful green eyes. As he watched the quasars explode into a million tiny specs of ethereal emerald, with the tip of his thumb he tenderly touched the corner of Tal’s lip. “I mean now you’re just talking silly.” Charlie began. “Do you really think there’s such a thing as a whole person? Cos there’s not. We’re all just puzzle pieces that we mostly stick together ourselves until we find that one missing piece, that one person or persons that makes us complete. There isn’t a whole person until that point.” He leaned down and kissed the top of Natalia’s forehead. “I’ve seen your heart. You’re a lot stronger than you know, Tal. And as far as being good enough and carrying baggage? You literally just described everyone who ever lived. Though not all of them are Stargirls.” He laughed a little as he traced the soft freckles on her face. “Stargirl; just a bit pretentious though isn’t it? She definitely doesn’t get that from me.”

The Belmonte girl laughed right along with him, taking hold of the hand of his that was free and interlocking her fingers with his. "Says the one who can't go two sentences without speaking in metaphors," she teased back. "I think it's cute, though. Unique. I've never heard someone call someone else Stargirl before."

Charlie’s eyes sailed to a book that sat on his shelf: Blue Highways by William Least Heat-Moon. It was the story of one man’s trip across America, avoiding big cities and interstates, the living world and the pain it causes. “Stars are very important to our people. We have so many legends and stories that we live and learn by. Maybe-- no, I’m sure she’d be happy to tell you about them.”

Natalia was quiet for a moment, pondering her friend’s words and reading between the lines. "So you think I should give her a chance?" she asked Charlie, letting her facial expression show the real, deep-seated anxiety she felt about allowing someone new into her life and potentially giving them the power to further break her. "Even if she ends up breaking my heart by running in the opposite direction when she finds how truly fucked I am? When the novelty and the initial attraction wears off, and she’s left with the mess that I am? Because as much as I want to try again, I don't think I can handle more heartbreak right now, Char. I really can't," she admitted, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

“Okay.” Charlie spoke defiantly. “Come here.” He guided the crying Natalia up to a seated position and pulled her gently into his arms and warm embrace that the woman was quick to return. Looking into her big green eyes, he softly wiped away her tears. “Listen, I can’t promise that she’s the one-- I wish I could. God, I wish I could. But from what I’ve seen and what I know of my sister, she’s a kind, selfless and deeply connected person. She feels so much and feels everything so intensely.” Charlie’s fingers danced across Tal’s neck as he smiled at her. “It is this humble writer's opinion that you give her a chance. Let her take you to places you’ve never been, places you’ve never seen. Magical places that will fill your heart the way you need them to. But first, you have to go to her. Drive that blue highway to that Native reservation in the middle of nowhere and find your Dolcezza.”

The green-eyed girl nodded in between sniffles, wiping away any tears her friend hadn’t managed to catch. From the first conversation they’d had in the outdoor bleachers of the old Edenridge High School, Charlie had proven his ability to see beyond the veil the Belmonte girl used to hide parts of her true self from the world. His words had the power of penetrating her defenses and instilling only positive emotions in her heart. The more she and Charlie spoke about Mitena and the feelings blossoming between the two girls, the better and more confident Natalia felt about everything. She wasn't undeserving of love. She wasn't too flawed. She was a brave woman who deserved to try and find happiness with someone who desired to give it to her.

"So you're not mad about it?" she asked him, mustering up the strength to face him for the answer to one of the questions that haunted her the most. "You're not upset that we’re into each other even after what happened between us?"

“Why would I be upset? Because someone’s making you happy? And that someone happens to be my sister?” Charlie brushed some loose raven hair from Natalia’s face as he let out a light chuckle. “Tal, what happened with us, you’re always going to carry that weight with you. I can’t change that. Allowing yourself to be happy? That will. Allowing yourself to feel what you felt for me for someone else? That will. And I’ll always be here if you need a pep talk. Apparently since my death I’ve mellowed the fuck out.” The native boy held the green eyed girl tightly. “Go be happy, Stargirl.”

The dark-haired girl held Charlie just as tightly, allowing herself to indulge in the solace that only his embrace could give her. That was one of the things Natalia missed the most since he was gone: the warm feeling of his arms around her holding her close after sharing his well-intentioned wisdom. No matter how many times she dreamt of him, it could never replace the real thing. She would’ve given anything to ease his burden and provide Char with the same comfort that he always gave her when he was still alive-- but that was impossible now. Thankfully, she still had a chance to do right by him by bringing happiness to his surviving sister’s life.

“Okay.” Tal mumbled with a sniffle, gently pulling away from Charlie and wiping her teary face again. “I guess I’ll go ahead and get ready so I can head out to the rez and see Mitena.” She told him with a small smile, slowly getting out of the bed and standing up, facing him one last time before she departed. She would never get tired of that tender feeling that filled her chest whenever she looked at her friend. “Got any last words for me, Char?”

Charlie directed a smile at the befreckled beauty, his black bangs hanging over his sleepless brown eyes. His tanned skin was warm and full of life that had never been there whilst he was actually alive. He sat and drank her in: the way she stood in that doorway like she had so many times before. It always hit him in a certain kind of way-- a way in which his heart melted. With his lanky long arm, Charlie reached out and took a hold of Tal’s hand, lightly pressing his lips to her knuckle, only to be interrupted by a thunderous knocking at the bedroom door. “Miss you.” He spoke quietly, his words hushed but not hidden, as if it was fading out and being overcome by the knocks. "I think someone is ready for you.”

Before the young woman could do anything other than squeeze the hand of his that held hers and blow him a kiss, the world around them began to transform at a rapid pace. The piles of flannel shirts and dark jeans disappeared from the floor, which was now a well-preserved dark oak instead of the worn laminate from before. The bookcases that had rested against the walls were replaced by a mandala tapestry, and posters of artists like Billie Eilish, Post Malone, Lil Peep, Halsey, girl in red and others. The bed remained unmade and the curtains remained drawn, but the dark bed sheets and linen drapes were now a beautiful shade of periwinkle that matched the blue, purple and white tie-dye comforter that kept Natalia warm. The thick, battered notebooks on the desk vanished, their place now occupied by a sleek MacBook Pro and empty snack wrappers. Tal continued to watch her dream’s surroundings give way into reality in silence, smiling at Charlie’s figure as it faded away into the void… Until she was the only thing that remained inside the room.

Now fully awake, Natalia lay face up and still in her bed for a long moment after, trying to ease into the feelings that always came rushing after her dreams with Charlie. Eventually, she found the strength to shift her body to lay sideways and grab the nearest pillow resting near her, holding it as tightly as she could against her chest and bracing herself for the incoming impact. And as wave after wave of emotion slowly began to crash into her, Tal buried her face in the pillow and began to sob.

Wearing a dark blue long sleeves shirt and jean shorts with patches all over it, Hennessy James stood in front of Osprey Original Tailors on Main Street with a chocolate croissant in one hand and caffè mocha from Rochambeau’s in the other. She was supposed to be grocery shopping for her family but instead she was staring at a beautiful dress she could never afford. People would find her to be a bit strange, imitating one of her favorite movies, but she found the classics to have such hope and feel good notions in them. Aubrey Hepburn’s character, Holly, from Breakfast at Tiffany's, might’ve seemed like she wanted the lavish lifestyle that wealth offered, but the reality was, money provided stability. Holly wanted stability. Hennessy wanted that too.

To have wealth of any amount, the twenty one year old wondered where her life would be. Hennessy didn’t care about being a princess, like all the girls that resided on Scott Street. She didn’t even care if she ever left the Hallow, or what everyone in this town called Jamestown. She didn’t care if this beautiful gown ever left the boutique for her to wear at tea parties or a ball where she could stumble as she tried to waltz, even if it really was a gorgeous dress and the muted blue would look great on her. She didn’t care what money could get her specifically. What she did care about was the idea of money and how much that would change everything for her family. How much that would solve all their problems.

If she had money, she could make Miss Carol’s trailer into a big house and fill her fridge with a bounty of food so she could eat like a queen. She could help Georgie go to school for business or finance, since out of all of them, she’s always been better with that kind of stuff. Honestly, with the rumors of a new hotel, maybe that meant a better job opportunity for her. And you know what would help with that? Money. Georgie could get the best business attire so she looked the part. She could take etiquette lessons so she aced her interviews. All this could be provided, if only they had money.

Hennessy could give Scout the proper medical attention she needs for her narcolepsy and maybe even put a playground on their compound so she didn’t have to trek to town with a big cousin to watch her constantly while she played on the monkey bars. Hyper as can be. For Blade, she would buy the best makeup and send him to Hollywood so he could learn from the greatest artists and celebrities of beauty and glam. For Billy, she would make sure to give him the largest library, like that in Beauty and the Beast. He could read to his heart’s content and all the books would be his, to keep in perfect condition.

And for her brothers? She’d be able to afford a headstone for Landon and make it a birdbath to show his gentle soul. A peaceful place where birds can come and go for water and sustenance. And Bucky, he didn’t need much. He was content with his construction job and he liked to carve with his knife, so for him, really the money would be for when he ever wanted to go out to be in the company of others and drink beer. A beer fund. Maybe. Bucky was hard. He wore their dad’s clothes and he played their dad’s guitar. He preached time and time again he didn’t need much. He was happy just using his money for the family.

Regardless of how simple her brother is, she knew that money was the answer to all her family’s problems and money wasn’t something they had. Sighing to herself, Hennessy strolled to a sidewalk bench and took a seat, finishing her breakfast before she absolutely had to head over to My Darling Food Mart. The sun gleamed on her pale skin and she soaked in the beauty of the early morning. Her time at Osprey’s was always so peaceful. She cherished it. Just like Holly cherished her time at Tiffany’s. She liked that movie a lot.

Spencer Kesar’s mood was all over the place. In one sense he was happy because he had spent the summer interning with Virgin Delta, shadowing Captain Leigh Robinson on his daily routine before a flight, spending time with the ground crew as they managed passenger baggage, he checked the flight systems and worked alongside the boarding crew. It has always been Spencer’s dream to fly.

He didn’t know much about his life prior to the orphanage. He was just a baby when he was taken there by his birth parents. All he was left with was a blanket and an airplane plush. As a child, he would clutch onto that toy, keeping it close to his chest as he looked out at the stars and the night sky. Sometimes Spence would imagine that his parents were space explorers who knew they couldn’t take their son on a perilous journey and so decided to leave him in the “safety” of the orphanage, hoping a nice family would take him in until they could return from their adventure and take him to his new world; which they never did.

Then when things began to get real and the harsh realities of the world he found himself in revealed themselves, Spence saw the sky as an escape. Thus he studied hard, he took every opportunity he could get to get out when he could. It became his life goal to fly him and his friends out of danger and into the great blue yonder where they could be free. Paramount to this was his friendship with another young orphan, Flora or Floss as he would come to call her. Spencer saw such light in her, it was fetish and neon but it was warm and loving. Floss became his little sister in every sense of the word and when the time came for him to finally escape, when the Kesar family chose him to be their son, Spence insisted on bringing Flora. Trent and Monty Kesar were more than happy to oblige.

He loved his adopted parents; they were good people. After years on the road, traveling with bands and partying the world away, Trent and Monty settled back into life in their hometown with their new kids. He opened his own tattoo studio while she began working with animals at the shelter. To look at the Kesar’s, all dressed in leather and dirty hand shirts, covered in tattoos, one might think they were the wrong type of human being but nothing could be further from the truth; they were the best of humankind. Spence would always give them shit but they were as dear to him as anyone ever could be.

For all intents and purposes, the young man should’ve been happy but he wasn’t. Part of him was in a great state of anger. Vivian Lucasta had canceled on him again, a pattern which kept on rearing its ugly head over the heads of their friendship. Spence had lived next door for years and had always liked her. He had been honest about his feelings too but she turned him down. That was fine, that was ok. He was willing to put in the work but she seemed so distant lately and it was hurting him. It was going to be ok, he was used to not being wanted.

Having dropped off a book for Shane, an old friend, Spencer departed Osprey’s with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his Levi’s jacket and his messy blonde hair hanging over his eyes. Looking like he did, he should not have been in the fine apparel establishment. Now he had to go and buy Floss some chocolates or she’d get very angry with him. She was having her little boyfriend round for “studying” later that night and had tasked Spence with finding the perfect snack. Glancing over to his right, the would-be pilot noticed a gorgeous young woman sitting in a bench nearby and he thought to himself, perhaps she would know what the best candy to get a sixteen year old was….asking her would be weird though. Don’t be weird, Spencer.

“Excuse me?” He began before a smile stopped any further words coming out his mouth for a second. “No, sorry. Ignore me. I was about to ask a really stupid question. Didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast.”

Covering her mouth, she mumbled, “Wait.” Hennessy wondered why he was so quick to retreat. All because she was eating food? Did she have something on her face? Did she look foreboding? Unapproachable? If she was giving off a bad vibe, she would want to know. It wasn’t that she had a resting bitch face was it? Frowning behind her hand as she finished chewing, she watched him while her mind was going one thousand miles per hour.

Oh, lord. She was overthinking now.

Finishing chewing her chocolate croissant, placing her food on a napkin, which was on her lap, and resting her mocha down by her foot, she looked back up at him and gave a soft, sweet smile, “I don’t believe in stupid questions, so please ask away.”

“Oh, OK.” Spencer took a step closer to the young woman. Now that he could see her more clearly, he was taken slightly aback by how pretty she was. Her smile was incredibly bright and inviting, she reminded him a lot of someone, but who he couldn’t place. “Well this is going to sound really random but…I need to buy some snacks for my sister and she thinks she’s being funny by not telling me what to get her. I was hoping that maybe you’d have some inkling as to what to get an overly happy sixteen year old and her boyfriend?” Spence brushed some of his dirty blonde hair away from his face so he didn’t seem to unkemptor appear like some vagrant up to mischief. “I know I know, it sounds crazy weird but if you met Flora you’d understand….well kind of…”

Flora.

Hennessy took a moment to think about the name and why that sounded familiar. After a couple of seconds, she snapped her finger, “That’s the cutie at the animal shelter sometimes helping her mom? I sometimes volunteer there, when I’m not babysitting a bunch of troublemakers. She wears a lot of colors,” Hen chuckled at the thought of the little blondie with pink and blue tips.

“Yeah!” So this girl volunteered with his Mom and his sister; Edenridge had always seemed like a small world unto itself and this latest coincidence just reaffirmed that. “She helps Mom out from time to time, though how she doesn’t give those animals an aneurysm with all that color is beyond me.” Spencer shrugged as he took a seat next to Henny but gave her plenty of space so as to not encroach. “She likes to play games. This is her latest one. ‘How to make my big brother do unnecessary shit for me’. Anyway, think you can help me out?”

“Depends. Can I get a name?” The young lady with dark hair, blue-green eyes, and gentle mannerisms smirked at the boy, before introducing herself, “Hennessy. I know. Don’t judge. My family calls me Hen or Henny. And you?” As she waited for his response, she grabbed a napkin out of her tote bag to clean her fingers.

Balling the napkin in her hand, her adorable smile never leaving her face, she admitted, “First time I’ve had company during my breakfasts here, it’s nice.” Amicable and kind. Two words that have been used to describe this young James girl time after time. Her gaze went from her hands back to that pretty dress on display before looking back at him, waiting patiently.

“Spencer.” He responded. “Spencer Kesar.” He could already tell that the young woman’s attention was diverting quickly, moving away from him and to the pretty dress in the window of Osprey’s. “You like that dress?” The long haired boy examined it intently and had to admit to himself that he knew very little about fashion. His father wore bowling shirts and big hats, his mother wore exclusively band merchandise and his little sister looked like a Jackson Pollock painting. Despite his friendship with the Osprey heir apparent Shane, arguably the most fashionable straight man in the history of ever, the two rarely talked about the clothing world. Shane had very much distanced himself from his fathers empire, only ever bothering to be involved when his father was down a model.

His mind lingered on her mention of eating breakfast alone. How could a girl this sweet, at least from first impressions, and beautiful be so alone? Spencer could hear it in her voice, that same sadness he knew that he carried with him. That perpetual feeling of being an outsider. “You know, if you like that dress, my friend's Dad owns the store, I can probably get him to get you some kind of discount?”

“Oh no! I could never. I know Shane. He’s one of my first friends here,” Henny started tearing at the napkin, little by little on her lap, not really paying attention to where it fell. “He offered to just buy me things from here but I could never. I’d feel really guilty plus a dress like that would look so silly on me.” Self conscious now, she looked away from the boutique and to the boy beside her. “Shane texts me occasionally when he’s back from his charters or to check up on me. I told him from the get go to never ever buy me expensive things. I care much more about gifts from the heart. And it’s not so much the dress… okay, you’re going to find this very silly of me.”

The tissues started to cover her croissant and her lap. “My family and I don’t really have much but we make by so when I see this shop or the pretty girls that come in and out of it, I like to think of scenarios of what I’d do if I could afford something like that dress. Honestly, all my money would go to my family. Maybe we’d be able to turn our dump of a home into something worth visiting. Where I live, people tend to forget it exists.” When she ran out of napkins, her eyes fell down on her lap. “Oh, sorry… I made a mess… habit.” Blush graced her face as she began to clean up. She put her croissant back in its baggie and in her tote, then she proceeded to sweep the tissue with her hand. Standing up, she scurried to the trash can, leaving her things behind, like her tote with her wallet in it, already having trust for this stranger, and came back to rejoin him.

Spencer was a little taken aback by the openness and willingness to share that the stranger called Hennessy had. She didn’t know him from Shane, yet here she was barking her heart and her history, anxiously so based on the shredded napkin that now stained his dark jeans. He wouldn’t even know where to start if she had asked him to share anything of himself with her. As open and as loving as his adopted parents were, Spencer did not share their ability to communicate in the same way Floss did. He has always been private and on the few instances that he had offered someone a peek behind his messy blonde bangs, they didn’t like what they had seen. It made him wonder if the blood that ran through his veins was cursed. Not that he ever cared to try and work out who he was. For all intents and purposes, the boy he should’ve been was dead.

“It’s very sweet of you to think of your family first.” Spence smiled, doing what little he could with his limited capabilities of making someone feel happy or comfortable. “I don’t really have much either.” The aspiring pilot lamented. “Like we don’t have a lot of money but we get by on what we do have. I guess we’re lacking more in time? If that makes sense? Everyone is always so busy which is fine but I guess sometimes they might forget I exist.” Spencer let out a little chuckle to mask his feeling as his words echoed Henny’s.

Both of his parents had quite time consuming jobs and Flora was at the age where she didn’t need to rely on her big brother any more. If he was brutally honest with himself, Spence would have to admit he didn’t have a great deal of friends and those he did have had better friends than him. Shane had JP, Natalia and that manic nympho girl, Adderall or whatever her name was. Vivian had Mara and Jill. Spencer was pretty lonely, all things considered. All he had was the sky and it was all he needed…or at least that’s what he told himself.

“It’s not as sad as it sounds. Honest. I know my family loves me. I mean they chose me. Sorry that went too deep, I get in my head sometimes. Anyway!” Spencer clapped, trying to shatter the glass house he was building around himself with his words. “Let’s just ignore that and focus on the task at hand. Candy for Floss.”

“Yes, candy,” Henny’s smile turned into a playful serious face, placing her fist under her chin and puckering her lips as she pretended to be in deep thought. She had felt how disheartened and sad he became when he talked a little bit about himself and she didn’t feel right probing. His relations with others seemed like a sensitive subject. They were strangers so it wasn’t her place to ask, so instead she would distract and provide the information he wanted.

Picking up her cup off the floor, she took a quick sip of her drink before making suggestions. “If you want something close by, I’d say Mr. Beau’s beignets. Not candy. But what kid wouldn’t like a delicious pastry? Made by Mr. Beau himself! He makes everything with so much care. And love.” Tapping her chin, she continued to guide, hoping she was helping him even if it was just a little bit, “If you want to give her a big surprise, I hear a chocolate and pastry shop will open… this Sunday, I do believe. The Sweet Tooth Factory. I might take my littles. I hear for the first 100 customers they’re going to give freeeeeeeeee chocolateeeeeee.”

Excitement washed over her. She was giddy at the thought of free anything and loved a good deal. The flea market in Pinehurst was something she tried to go to every so often to see if she could get some steals. Coupons and discounts made a huge difference for her wallet. “There’s one more option though!” She exclaimed, happy to have company and appreciative he wanted to hear what she had to say. “My Darling Food Mart. From what I know of your sister, she would eat just about anything but I think what she would really like is something that her big brother likes. Candy or not. Now that I know she’s your sister, she talks a lot about you.” She gazed at the boy, quickly making a decision and clearing her throat, “I actually have to go grocery shopping soon, if you want to come along? If not, that’s fine. I won’t be upset.”

“Oh, Floss talks about me?” Spencer was a tad thrown by the revelation that his younger sister spoke about him. He didn’t think she would bother. She was getting older now and finding herself and her own life but for the longest time it had always been just them against the world. He worried deeply about the day which he believed would come, where Flora would finally cut ties with him. After all, she and Spencer weren’t blood. She had no obligation to him, no connection beyond a shared upbringing. Be feared the day she would leave him behind, much like everybody else had.

“You know what? Nevermind that. Yeah I’d absolutely love to go to the market with you.” He didn’t know much about the strange girl he found outside of Osprey’s but what Spence did know was that he trusted her. There was a certain sparkle in her eye and a curve in her smile that made him think that perhaps she needed him to be some sort of distraction for her and that was fine; he was ok with that as long as he got what he wanted. Which in this case was to find tasty treats for the light in his life, his little sister. “My Darling Food Mart is.”

Hennessy observed him quietly. He did it again. He backtracked and didn’t talk about his thoughts and feelings. The sight of these subtle mannerisms and afflictions made Henny feel for him but she knew it was not right to push him to talk. When he was ready to talk, he would or maybe this would be the last day they saw each other and he’d forget she ever existed. If that were the case then he had nothing to worry about. They’d go on about their lives as strangers. If that’s what he wanted, she would understand. “We have a little bit of a walk but it's not too bad, plus my car is in the parking garage over there. Well, my family’s car.”

The young woman collected her things, with him at her side, before rising. “Like I said, we don’t have much so I’m usually dropping my brother and cousin off at work so I have our wheels to take the rugrats out or do errands. Georgie usually gets out of work at five and Bucky hangs at the Longhouse on the Res until I get there. This used to be my other brother’s job, and I would stay home but he isn’t around anymore. And that’s okay because now I’ve gotten over my fear of driving, I think!” She had casually brought up her dead brother like it was nothing but based on her forced chipperness, this was simply how Henny coped. Her eyes were sad, yet hopeful and she tried her best to smile through it all. No matter how bad her heart was aching.

Spencer understood the hole that could be left behind by a sibling in absentia. Growing up in the orphanage and watching as the children that he thought of as siblings be adopted or age out of the system. Hell, there were girls that he knew who simply disappeared without a trace. The assumption being they were taken in by some loving family and raised to be fine members of society but Spence always had his suspicions that there might be something more untoward going on. There was a reason when the Kesar’s chose him as their son that he wasn’t going to leave Flora behind in that place. He’d never leave her.

“It’s a nice day.” He said as he got up to his feet. “If you’re up for it, we can leave the car here and just walk. It’s really not that far and I don’t know I’m enjoying the quiet right now, you know?” Spence offered up his hand to the young woman with a smile hidden behind his long bangs. Henny was sweet and the least he could do for her helping him was to help her too.

The gesture of him wanting to hold her hand took her aback. She wondered if it was appropriate when they only just met not too long ago. Knowing her, she was overthinking this and it was simply him just wanting to keep her safe, like her brothers do all the time. Hennessy didn’t interact with many people outside her family and most of the time, she found herself lost in the classics. Rebel Without a Cause, The Best Years of Our Lives, Singin’ in the Rain, It’s a Wonderful Life… the classics. “We can do that,” she nodded in agreement, adjusting her tote on her shoulder. Staring at his hand for a second too long, she took the leap of faith and reached for it, gently grabbing onto it, albeit nervously. Something so simple carried so much weight to her. Anxiously she looked around, and took another sip of her drink, trying to hide the fact that this was something she didn’t do normally. “Onward we go!” She chirped, beaming brightly and unable to hold his eye contact now that they were walking hand in hand.

Now he was even more confused. He had only offered his hand to help her up but now they were essentially skipping down the street together like some couple from one Floss’ teen movies. He didn’t hate it but Spencer also really didn’t understand it. Then again, if Viv was to see him holding the hands of a pretty girl down the street, it could only work in his favor surely to make her feel the same sting in her heart that he felt? It seemed malicious and unfair to Hennessy but surely after today he wouldn’t see her again? This was a one time thing so what was the harm?

He glanced up into the sky above them, crystal clear and sparkling in blue save for the streak of white which was obviously the trail left by a passenger plane, likely a Boeing 747. One day that would be him, flying high away from the loneliness that had crippled him all of his life. A world to explore and new adventures to undertake. Maybe he would take Henny on one of those trips. She seemed like she needed it just as much as he did. Maybe one day his birth parents would be there, sitting in first class, unaware that their pilot was the son they gave up on, the son that was going to prove he was worth more than nothing.

“Let’s fly. To Darling Mart!”

The hour-long ride back to Edenridge had given Jade ample time to take everything in. It allowed her to truly digest everything that happened moments before she left Blue Hill with Anya. Initially, Jade clung to the bike and how it brought feelings of comfort. At the moment, that’s all she could fixate on. It was all such an overwhelming moment for her that the time spent clinging to Anya’s toned back (even with the jacket on), gripping her lover’s waist for dear life, and pressing her face against the leather jacket while the 60+ winds tickled her skin.

There was nothing like riding a hog.

But that indeed wasn’t the only thing Jade found herself clinging to. The ride allowed Jade some time to think deeper about certain things and the fact that her best friends in this world - her soul sister and soul brother - knew who Anya was. Knew of her, at least. Poppy knew her as Jane from the Library, which Jade would have probably known if she was a regular at it (she preferred Main Street Music with JP). Key knew her as The Basilisk, yet another name that went over Jade’s head - least, the specifics of it. Everyone and their mother knew of The Basilisk. Jade just never knew her Pancake was that person.

But a lot of things started to click for her. A lot of things she ran back in her mind. Jade began to piece it all together and that Anya was more amazing of a woman than she had ever thought her to be. To Jade, she was perfect. Maybe full of imperfections but she was still the most remarkable person she’d ever met. Someone that could make her feel alive without even intending to. Someone she could open her heart to. That month she spent away from everyone, she credits Anya for allowing her to feel comfortable enough to reach out.

And as they came into the Lost Souls apartment complex, a few serpents on watch duty today, Jade had a realization - more like an epiphany, if anything - that Anya was her person. She is her person.

When the stand was kicked up and Jade could get off the bike, she was quiet for a few seconds - long ones - before she smiled gently and sweetly at Anya. “Home sweet home.”

“It’s good to know home,” Anya took off her helmet, letting her blonde strands fall out and over her shoulders. After she latched it onto her handle, she walked beside the angelic princess to get a closer look at the apartment that she knew in great detail. Something Jade likely didn’t realize by standing next to her because of the built mask Anya wore to blend with those she considered normal.

Anya knew who resided here, what floor, what room and who each of their social groups were. Their associates, their lovers and their families, she knew it all. Edenridge was her territory, and what that meant was, every creature knew their nest. Every monster that lurked under a child’s bed knew exactly who they were scaring. Every ghost haunted someone they felt close with, never a stranger. Anya was all three.

A creature, a monster and a ghost.

Deep down, if Jade ever saw her for her, they would not last. As friends, as acquaintances, and as something more. What she was, it wasn’t easy to accept. Easy to want. Easy to love. What she was wouldn’t give Jade a normal life. What she was would only endanger them and everyone Jade held dear to her.

Similar to her little brother’s fears but so much worse, Anya knew she was not good. She was not safe. She was not meant for this fork in the road that led her to somewhere… normal. Led her somewhere she wished she could call home. What she was had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her Father. No, not the one that conceived her with her mother. She was talking about her Creator. The one that would always call the shots until the day she died. Anya would always belong to someone else and that would not be easy for Jade to commit to. Not easy for Jade to love.

Anya knew what she was but she did wonder if Jade knew how much she meant to someone as atrocious as her. Someone who was born in the dark and could not leave without permission. Jade was pure. Jade was good. Jade was light. To Anya, a creature. To Anya, a monster. To Anya, a ghost. Jade was her Angel. Her wish upon a star that she knew was out of reach… but she wanted it. She wanted to grab this girl and hold her close. She wanted Jade which wasn’t something she ever did before. Want something. Need something. For the first time in her life, she wanted something. She wanted someone. For the first time in her life, she wanted a woman. For the first time in her life, she wanted love. She wanted Jade.

If only…

The Basilisk wasn’t deserving of such a beautiful girl and yet, here she was taking a risk and exploring these budding feelings that resided in her. Her comment from earlier, that of home, clearly had a double meaning to it. Not only did the Russian woman mean it was good to know the area you live in but that it was important to know who were the people that centered you. That reminded you of your own humanity. Those you considered: your home. “Should I get leaving? You need rest? I go if this is what you want, Toast girl.”

The Angel Princess found herself lost in the beauty of her Pancake when she had removed her helmet. She found helmet hair oddly sexy and though there were clear signs of it affecting Anya’s golden locks, it didn’t take away from her radiance. Being home was bittersweet because the last time she was actually here, she had found herself in such a distraught state because of Cameron Hyde. She saw the monster that nearly killed Ley. Not all of it, she would assume, but enough to set the blonde straight in a sense. Seeking the comfort of her friends, she was put on a journey of self-discovery and eventually found an unexpected peace.

And then was rewarded again because she found out more and more about the woman standing next to her. The woman who was starting to become someone very close to her heart. A woman who, at times, had that child-like wonder that broke through every wall Jade had put up. She meant something to her and she wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. “You don’t have to go…not yet. I’m not even that tired.” A half-lie. Jade was emotionally spent, but she wanted Anya to stay and no matter how exhausted her mind was, her heart was finally waking up. “I have some pancake mix in my apartment. I can whip us up a batch if you’ve got time. It’s no Dolly’s triple stack with all your sweet toppings but I do got ready whip and some good syrup. Went shopping recently for some essentials.” In truth, Jade wanted to get better at cooking for a moment just like right now. She wanted to make the pancakes like Dolly’s main cook did. How Anya liked it.

“Pancake from Toast girl?” Anya's smile turned into a grin as she looked at the slender woman with intrigue. “No need for triple stack. You touch it, it be good. I’m certain.” With a wave of her hand, she gestured toward the entrance for Jade to lead the way. As they did walk toward the elevator, Anya found her sharp, green eyes trailing down the other blonde’s figure and lingering on Jade’s tight jean bottom. Before Jade could catch her staring, the Russian woman looked away.

When they stood in the elevator, side by side, Anya looked up at the fluorescent lights. It was humid in here so when she got to Jade’s apartment she would need to take off her jacket. “You okay?” Her gaze fell on the other woman, having caught sight of the red eyes, dark circles, and drained energy since she saw the vixen on the reservation. Jade likely thought she was hiding it well but for a trained eye, it was easy to read. “Your breathing…” Among other things like the muscle tension in her voice or the sweaty hands that Anya had felt when they were on her bike and she made sure Jade was holding tight. All signs of anxiety. Anya wondered what was the cause of it or if it was her. If she was the one to blame for making her Angel uncomfortable. Did Jade not like being this close to her? If so, she needed to know. “You tired, I understand. But you nervous too, why?”

Like every Sunday morning (early at that), Anya saw through Jade. And Anya was right. Jade was nervous, but it wasn’t for anything bad…maybe. Jade didn’t know yet. Maybe she didn’t find as much peace at Blue Hill as she thought. She thought she was holding it in, that she hid it well, but there was nothing Jade could do to hide anything from Anya. She saw everything. All the bullshit. All the walls Jade could throw up. It made her feel safe just as much as it made her feel exposed.

Not because Anya was so perceptive, but because Anya is the first person since Roddy Callahan that made her afraid to feel. Of course with the blonde that stood next to her, anxiously waiting for the elevator to reach the second to highest level (where Jade lived), she wasn’t afraid to feel but was afraid to say it out loud. The moment she did, Jade knew in her heart that she would be completely exposed and Anya would have her complete heart. Whatever she chose to do at that moment would be completely out of Jade’s control.

Just as she was going to start to explain why she was nervous, the elevator doors opened. They were finally at their destination, but there were also a couple people - Angels. Patch members - who waved to Jade as she and Anya got off and they took their spot. As they walked a few feet, Jade said, “This is us.” Jade’s apartment was close to the elevator. Reaching into her pocket, with shaking hands, Jade went to unlock her apartment door, but she couldn’t find the damn steadiness to get the key into the hole and she dropped them. “Son of a bitch…” She muttered and took in a deep breath and kneeled down to grab them. “Sorry. I don’t know why…can you do it?” She said, handing the keys to Anya.

Instead of taking Jade’s keys from her right away, Anya cupped the girl’s shaky hands, clasping them together where the keys were between both of their hands. She didn’t say anything. Instead she studied the woman’s face and fixed her green eyes with Jade’s pretty blues. They were like fire in water. Passion in ice. She could swim in those eyes for hours. Silence lingered between them for a moment longer and then effortlessly, Anya slipped the keys into her grasp, abiding her heart’s desire’s commands. Once she returned the keys to its rightful owner, Anya motioned for the bewildered girl to lead the way.

Glancing to her side at the angels that walked past them, having not entered the apartment yet, the Russian woman’s soft gaze instantaneously turned cold, like a switch turned on. Or off. It was the Basilisk’s way of saying mind your business without having to say anything. Her eyes were her signature, after all. Her eyes that separated her from the rest of her sisters, her brothers, and her biker comrades. Her eyes which could be so completely void of emotion, one would wonder if there was even a human living inside the shell of her body. The rookie angels were quick to leave her sight. Shaken and uncomfortable from Jade’s guest. When they were gone, Anya’s gaze softened again, taking a step forward into the room. She smiled, looking around in awe, “This nice place you got! Look at Toast girl, living with herself, doing what she needs to do.” Closing the door behind her and not moving any further into Jade’s place, Anya asked, “Shoes off? Where I put my jacket?”

Jade’s hands weren’t shaking anymore, but she couldn’t shake the sensation of it. The feeling of her anxiety going through the roof. Anya was her saving grace and had calmed the storm that brews in the Angel Princess periodically. It took her a delayed moment to respond to her Russian lover. “You think so? It’s not bad. My Uncle Charlie lived here before he was sent away. Been just me ever since graduating high school.” And some months she wondered if she would make rent. She may have been considered royalty to the Angels and rent was the cheapest in town for a one-bedroom apartment, but some months were harder than most.

She set her keys on the countertop, as well as her jacket. When Anya asked about her, she turned around when one arm was still inside one sleeve. “No rules about shoes on or off. You can set your jacket on the back of the chair over there--” Jade absentmindedly pointed to Anya’s immediate left where her poor excuse for a dining room set, which consisted of a small, circular table and two chairs she picked up from a swap meet a few months ago. It was then she decided to do the same, walking over to the other chair and setting her jacket on the back of it…as she always did.

As if manners were drilled into her head, Anya slipped off her boots and pushed it with her foot into Jade’s mudroom. Attentively listening, the older woman followed suit, briefly coming behind the vixen to throw her coat on top of her’s. When the coat dropped, it opened a little to show a glimpse of a patch on the inside. By how close Anya was standing behind Jade, it was almost as if what she was doing was intentional. Gravitating to the wall, Anya scanned a couple pictures of Jade’s chosen family. Angels, her quartet, and her blood. Her eyes rested on the man that her Toast girl called ‘Uncle Charlie’.

Going deeper into the living room, by a side table, there she caught sight of more photos. She bent down to stare at a picture with many people, that of the Fallen Angels table and HCC. Jade at the center. Happy as can be. Anya knew exactly where she was in this photo. To the keen eye, one would see a person outside leaning against the clubhouse’s window, facing away from the camera, looking up at the sky. There when it mattered but never in sight for others to know her face. That was how Anya had to be. A mystery even to those she cared for.

To this day, Anya wondered why her Father, her creator, allowed her to join a gang when he was hers but he did and since then, she did what she had to do to keep this piece of family. All for herself. Selfish on her part because by that choice, she was endangering all these people simply by breathing in the same vicinity as them. Still, she wanted to be selfish. She wanted to keep them to herself. She wanted her Angel to herself. She wanted Jade.

Once again, her green eyes caught sight of CT and his stupid grin. Rolling her eyes, she cursed, “Pridurok.” Over the years, the Basilisk understood why her mother found comfort with that man. He gave her a sense of normalcy. Similar to what Anya found with Jade. Maybe not as romantic, then again she didn’t know much about her mother’s past but he cared enough to swear an oath to her. To be there for her when she needed someone. A parental figure, more so than her own. The one she actually considered a father. Not Ivan. Not her Creator. No. Charlie Taylor. That man earned her respect and for him, she would make sure her choice wasn’t in vain. She would protect him just as much as he protected her. She would kill for him because that's what family did for each other. They fought, they loved, and they supported. He was a moron but he was her moron.

Jade kept her watchful glance on Anya as she freely explored the living room. It was strange. Jade had always thought that the reason leading to getting Anya at her place would be different. She wasn’t a romantic by any means and she still hadn’t answered Anya’s earlier question about why she was so nervous, but that seemed like a distant memory now. What she felt for Anya was obvious. Her Russian lover was perceptive. More perceptive than anyone she knew, so maybe she did know but was waiting for Jade to say it. Maybe she didn’t need to say it. Maybe it was something that was felt and proven through actions.

As Jade leaned down to pick up Anya’s coat, what she saw, even if just a small glimpse of it, nearly shattered her…in the best way possible. She saw the edge of an angel wing. The yellow tone, with the red outline. “It couldn’t be…” She murmured, looking at where Anya was and she seemed engrossed with the pictures on the side table near the couch, so Jade had to know. She had to know for sure if what she thought she saw was the truth and as she flipped the inside more, she saw more of the emblem.



Those words have been ingrained into her memory. Both her uncle and her grandfather, one of the Club’s founding members, would recite that so much that she would become enraged through her exhaustion of hearing those words. Seeing the full patch on Anya’s jacket, Jade was speechless. She saw the one thing that clicked with her brain and answered so many questions she never knew she had. On the left pec part of the jacket, where most Table members had their role in the club, Jade saw “Enforcer” underneath the name of the club. “Enforcer…” She repeated, slowly making sense of everything. Nobody knew who the enforcer was. Nobody ever saw them around, but it was understood by the entire club that they were someone very close to Charlie Taylor. If this was true…no it was true. This was an official patch and everything. Jade knew that much.

She smiled, keeping her emotions in check…for now and set the jacket over hers, Basilisk side out and she walked into the living room, standing next to Anya and grabbed her hand, interlocking her fingers with her Pancake’s. Jade didn’t need to bring it up. She didn’t need to ask. Finding out was enough for her. It gave her some clarity that she didn’t know she needed.

She saw the group photo of the entire club. “That was a tough day for all of us. It was the day before my uncle’s sentencing hearing. He was allowed to be at home until his hearing because of his amazing lawyer. That was his going to prison party.” She giggled, finding the name of the party so absurd. “Give you one guess who came up with the name?”

“You tell me,” Anya turned her head toward Jade, knowing the answer but playing ignorance so she could hear the other girl talk. If she could, she would listen to the Angel Princess speak her heart out all night. It was better than any music she ever listened to. Something to calm her spirits. Placing the photo down, Anya turned to Jade and brushed the back of her finger on her pale, smooth skin. Her cheek which showed a hint of pink. CT’s precious jewel. Anya couldn’t find it in her to go back in the shadows, away from it. She wanted to take the jewel and make it her’s. This was a dangerous game she was playing. She wondered if Jade would mind… “You care so much for these people,” Bassy whispered, as she waited for a response.

“I do. They’re my family…” She couldn’t look away from Anya’s gentle eyes. An ocean of comfort that had carried her out of the darkness she was under. Anya was more than just Anya. More than just Pancake. She was the Enforcer for the Fallen Angels. Someone who protected the club’s interests. Someone who regularly handled problems that most members wouldn’t be able to. She wasn’t as engrossed into the club as she wanted to be, but Jade knew one thing: Anya was someone she knew would never hurt her. She was the one person she felt safe around.

And because she felt safe, Jade leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Anya’s. Her heart wouldn’t shut up. It screamed at a rapid rate, pulsing. Beating. It would take a forward action, one thing Jade was infamously known for prior to losing that piece of herself she never thought she’d find again. Anya was the one who helped her find it. So she took a leap, pressing her lips against Anya’s soft lips. It was a short kiss. A tender kiss. One that shook everything inside Jade. It had hesitation and fear written all over it. Jade was scared shitless while simultaneously being invigorated by this feeling she felt rushing through her body. When she broke the kiss, without even realizing it before it was too late, words just started to spill out of her mouth, “Earlier, you asked if I was nervous and I never answered. I was nervous. I still am, but it wasn’t because of anything bad. It was about…this.” Jade’s hands started to shake but she persevered and continued, “But it’s not just me being nervous. I’m afraid because I thought falling in love was out of the question for someone like me. I didn’t think I would find that kind of love because I never allowed myself to be completely open with someone, but here I am. Afraid but strengthened by the one person who makes me feel safe. Makes me happy…” As she spoke in a trembling voice, she controlled her equally as trembling hands by squeezing Anya’s harder.



Anya could hear her mother’s voice, whose English was far better than her’s, something she hadn’t heard in years. So close to this feeling, this feeling that her mother described as love. She could reach for it, right now, and hold her, kiss her and show her she was the reason a weapon like her could feel. In the bleak of winter, the lonely assassin saw a girl in a parking lot, with her friends. A native boy and a pale, ghost-like girl. Trying to get them to be together.

Today she met that girl who never got to the beginning of her love story. Someone Jade loved deeply. By watching this riot of a woman for years, Anya knew Jade was someone who tried her best for others and when things didn’t go the way she hoped, the consequences were something she lived with. Anya knew she blamed herself for everything. That was simply the nature of the beast that lurked over the Angel Princess’ shoulders. But what if, with this one thing, this would be everything that was right in the world for her. This one feeling, so close, was everything they needed. That Jade needed. That Anya needed.



No one was going to kill her. If anyone was going to kill Anya Kamensky, it would be herself. Human feelings. Guilt, regret and grief. She didn’t understand it but when she got lost in Jade’s sapphire eyes, she could understand why she was trained to not feel anything. These beautiful jeweled eyes. Pacific blue light. This would be her weakness.

Weakness was not something any of her sisters should have. They all had different curricula that led to their chosen paths and for Anya, her learning was limited so that she could only understand necessary information. Human emotion was not necessary. The more Anya rebelled, she discovered having a weakness could be seen as strength. It motivated Legs to get away from her pimp. It centered Mika and gave him a woman worth protecting. It led Jade to her, ready to give it all, if Anya said the word. That meant Anya had a reason to not risk everything for her Father because she had someone that wanted to be by her side. She had a reason to live and that reason said she was falling in love. Falling in love with a monster. Falling in love with her.

While Jade let her fear show on her face, Anya gave a stupid grin, similar to that of Charlie Taylor’s. It was in this action that Anya knew exactly where she was. Two elements were at play and the one inside of Anya was pure unadulterated excitement. Sliding one of her arms around Jade’s waist, drawing her closer, and having more control of where she wanted her, the Russian woman used her other hand to gently run her thumb on Jade’s bottom lip.

Tightening her grip, leaving no room between them, conveying how she felt without saying a single word, Anya joined their worlds, one where Jade was in the light, and Anya was in the dark, and let them both explode into shards of molten light. Her hungry mouth merged with Jade’s sweet tasting, lipstick painted lips, insisting on her to shut up and enjoy this moment with her. There was no room for hesitation and by kissing her repeatedly, feeling her body and claiming her jewel, Anya decided this was the point of no return. No longer holding back, the Basilisk chased this feeling. This feeling that perhaps she too was falling in love. In love with a girl that she saw as an angel. A true angel. Her angel.

Jade was completely exposed to Anya. She could completely rip her apart if she wished, but when the Angel Princess felt that hand grip her waist and pulling her closer, there was a moment where the raw emotion of feeling seen reduced her expression to literal tears. Her eyes swelled up with a waterfall that she couldn’t hold back any longer. She smiled even though her face became both cold and hot of the overwhelming outpour of emotions, validation, and something so raw, so intense that she couldn’t find the word to describe it.

She was always so helpless whenever she was with Anya. So helpless and unable to hide what was truly in her heart. It was that smile. That damn smile of hers and the eyes that broke through everything that she put up between her and the real world.

Jade’s entire life was full of moments that built her up and broke her apart time and time again, but it never bothered to handle her with care. She learned how to cope and endure through the art of either surviving or succumbing to the pain. She never had anyone just hold her and tell her it was going to be okay. Never truly felt safe. Charlie T tried as much as he could and most of the pain caused by her parents was replaced with the love her uncle gave her, but Jade kept enduring setback after setback. Losing her Aunt Zippo was just the start of it.

But this woman…this one person that came into her life out of nowhere…God, she could make up for all of what Jade had to endure. What she experienced that tested the limits of her soul. With every kiss planted on her lips, Jade also found herself craving more. Yearning for Anya. To have her in every way imaginable.

“Take me…” Jade muttered, so clearly out of breath and high on this feeling as she slowly walked back with Anya, leading them in the direction of her bedroom. “..To my room..” Jade kissed Anya once more. Deeper this time. She wasn’t afraid anymore. Jade wasn’t afraid to love and she wanted to show this to Anya.

There was no need to say that twice.

Anya would take her. Anywhere and everywhere because this girl was her light and she refused to lose sight of that.

A monster needs an angel and maybe, just maybe, an angel could learn to love a monster.

“You let her do what?!” Victoria James was heaving, her hands holding herself up as she stood hovering over her desk at her little thrift store. She didn’t know if she was hearing correctly but her husband, the apple of her eye, and love of her life, permitted their living daughter to stay at a place that they knew nothing about not for just one night but for two nights. This night specifically, her friends were coming back and she was not. “Are you fucking stupid, Sylvester?” What made him think this was a good idea? In what world would this make any sense when their other daughter was murdered when she strayed too far from the nest, at the Boston Convention Center.

“Please, Vicky, breathe and let me explain,” Sly cautiously took a step forward, glad that all her employees had left already for the day and he was just making sure she ate something. Still in his uniform, with exhaustion written all over him, the strong, muscular man known on the streets as Rocky approached a woman growing more and more unhinged, the more these letters stirred something in this town. Dear David was no exception. “Baby, Penelope is improving. There’s more color in her face. I can see her eating. She’s not wearing a mask anymore. She’s—”

Her nails dug into her wooden desk, where there were already numerous scratch marks from her and her fluctuating mental health. Her episodes. She grabbed a glass mug off her desk and flung it to the man who was midway in the room, encroaching her personal bubble. The officer ducked and let the mug hit against the door, shattering, shards flying every which way. “Do you think I give a fuck about that? How does any of that matter when someone wants her dead?!”

“No one wants her dead. Victoria, please, sit down,” Sly held his hands up, beckoning his wife to halt and not let her paranoia overtake her. A lot of times it felt like a losing battle especially since he couldn’t force her to take her meds.

“Bullshit, bullshit, BULLSHIT!” The unstable woman slid her arms on her desk, forcing everything on the floor. “Someone MURDERED our daughter and you’re letting our other one stay with STRANGERS? I don’t give a shit if they’re connected to Charlie and she’s trying to heal or whatever the fuck. That doesn’t change that this hellish town seems to be crying about a boy that drank too much and drowned because he was fucking dumb and NO ONE is talking about Maxine.”

There it was.

The cause.

Closing his eyes, Sly tried to center himself and pace his breathing as he listened to his wife cause wreckage in her office. He let the wave of pain wash over him and through him, waiting for this to pass. He knew this would pass. It always did. At least that was what he told himself everytime he had to calm her down.

“My BABY didn’t commit SUICIDE! And you’re still working for the assholes who blamed you for her decision to off herself. Someone fucked with the reports, you know someone did and yet you’re still working for those bastards! Protecting people who would sob over a privileged white boy’s ass instead of a girl who worked her ass off for this town. THIS IS ALL SO FUCKING STUPID!” By the time she was holding a lamp, Sly was in front of her. She swung it at him and quickly, he forcibly grabbed it from her and pinned his wife against the wall.

Taking the lamp out of her hand, he put it down, never releasing her or giving her much wiggle room, before wrapping his arms around her, letting her spike of anger turn into guilt, remorse, and uncontainable sadness. He made sure to hold her in a way that she couldn’t move much, knowing if given the chance she would try to reach for his gun. “You don’t think I’ve been trying? I know it’s been years but if we bring that shit in the streets it’s going to escalate. We have enough shit happening already. This burden, it’s my burden to carry and I’m going to fix it. I don’t know how, but I’m going to figure it out. I just need you to please, for Christ’s sake, take your meds.”

Her face soaked, his uniform wet from her tears, and her soul drowning, Vicky glanced up at him but didn’t say anything. Her eyes were distant as she looked at the man she married. A decision she made a long time ago to protect herself and there were times, she wondered, what if she didn’t choose him. What if she ran away. Would she be alive? Happy? Or would she be drugged up and dead somewhere?

“We need to trust that Penelope can take care of herself. She doesn’t deserve to be afraid to live life. I didn’t raise a little girl afraid to walk out of the fence. No, I raised a fighter, you raised a clever smartass. Not an idiot who will let someone take advantage of her. She has the best of the both of us, she’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay. And these letters,” Sly scanned her demeanor and expression, her body growing limp in his arms. He helped her to her seat and backed away. “I’m on it. Do you think I like that someone has Charlie’s journal? Fuck no, Victoria. And if that means I have to work double shifts to get to the bottom of this, I will.”

Turning her chair to her desk, she grabbed the one thing that didn’t fall off from her rage. A picture of her and her family. Her crazed eyes weakened as she got lost in Max’s smile. “Charlie dying was kind of cathartic don’t you think?”

“What…?” Sly was taken aback by the words coming out of his wife’s mouth.

“He broke my Penelope’s heart and was killed by you. What goes around, comes around,” Vicky chuckled to herself, gliding the back of her pointer finger on Max’s face. “Not just for Charlie, I mean, but for you too.” She knew that day haunted her husband’s mind, just like the happy person he used to be, especially the moment he shot someone that was like a son to him. She knew he deserved it. To live with that guilt. That pain. The memories. “It’s almost as if it was fated.”

“You did teach Penelope how to use a gun, and she taught him. Funny how that works.” She gazed up at him, with the eyes of a serpent girl who no longer saw the light. A girl who was never given a chance to live a life she wanted, always thinking of ways to protect herself and survive. A girl stuck in the past, unable to keep her head above water, pulling a good man down with her. She was drowning and she wanted him to drown too.

Ever since Rusty died, he lost his touch and she thought she could build him up, but he let this town assimilate him to the environment, following the way of the world like clockwork, the American dream, losing his strength along the way. “Maxine died because of you. Ronan died because of you. James and Charlie because of you. You’re no protector, Sylvester. If you think that, you’re just like your brothers who believed they were defending the Constitution and our country from all the big bads. Please. Maybe it’s time to take matters into my own hands.”

It was an understatement how badly Vicky had wounded the man that tried to stand everyday to support her, his daughter and this town. She knew what he was doing but as much as he wanted to sit and feel this stab wound, he couldn’t. He needed to take care of her. “Let me take you home. I’ll get this cleaned up. Please, baby.”

Putting the photo down, Vicky opened one of her desk’s drawers and put a couple of pills in her mouth, swallowing it without water. “I’m medicated now. Yes I ate dinner. Specifically chicken parm from Palermo. You can go now.”

“I don’t think I should leave you…” Sly hesitated, worried she was going to do something else that needed his intervention.

“You will leave me be or I’ll call your friends saying my husband hurt me. You know better than anyone that I’m not afraid to bleed and we know they’ll believe me over you. People always do. We’ll talk later, when I’m ready. Go now.” Shooing her husband away once more, Vicky returned to the picture, her dark gaze never leaving Max’s hopeful, youthful eyes and bright smile.

She missed her baby.

As it neared the end of Colin Brady’s shift, having wrapped the last bit of paperwork for the day, he was driving down Main Street. Earlier he dropped off what he picked up from Beau’s at the house. His wife and kids weren’t home, so he left a note for them. He had texted Marlie just a few minutes before he left the station, saying he was on his way home. He made sure to put an emphasis that he wanted to talk to her about something.

The last couple times they’ve attempted to talk, it went nowhere and if it did go somewhere, it wasn’t anything of substance. Or just became another argument to add to the list. Today would be different. Colin would be different. Antoine’s advice helped him see clearly and though he was exhausted from work, he wasn’t going to use it as an excuse again. Marlie deserved better and it was about time he was showing that.

Colin was pulling up on Well Loved Wonders. He saw Sly sitting on a bench just a few yards left of the shop. Initially, he wasn’t going to stop because he really wanted to hurry home. Maybe beat Marlie home so he could surprise her, but as he slowed down to just greet Sly, Colin’s perceptive eye caught onto something almost immediately and that prompted him to park. Turning his truck off, the dark-haired detective joined Sly on the bench. ”Been a long day, Sly. Chief has given me enough paperwork to seriously consider an early retirement. My pension will be crap, but just look at these hands--” Colin flashed his calloused hands and the little scrapes on them. “I’m gonna need Marlie’s good lotion to save this tragedy.”

Sly hadn’t expected company but he wasn’t going to refuse it either. Pushing himself off from leaning on his knees, he straightened himself and tried his best to hide the fact that his right hand knuckles were bleeding from punching a dent into the postal mailbox. Smiling at the remark of his wife’s lotion, Sly mused, “Does she have the kind that relieves stress? Because boy, I could use some.”

Tapping his finger on his leg, the bruised knuckle hand, making eye contact with his fellow comrade, Officer James continued, “I’m about to head back and do my own paperwork. I’ll probably be there all night. With Clay out, I’m a bit behind. It is what it is though. What’cha goin’ to do?”

“We can send the stacks of paper to his room at Sinclair Health while we go home and relax?” It was a jest but Colin had a stone-faced expression. After a half of a moment of silence, he laughed. It lingered between the two men for a few more seconds. Colin was facing forward but turned his head partially to look at Sly. “You’ll be good, Sly. You’re strong, but if you need anyone to help lighten the load, hope you know we have your six. Always.” Subtlety was never Colin’s forte. Sly had to know what he meant without saying it. Being brothers in blue, there was this unwritten rule that Colin always believed in: even if life doesn’t, your brothers always got your 6. Colin believed that ever since he first became a cop back in Phoenix and continued to believe in that very philosophy when he joined Eden’s police force.

Years it’s been since Sly had people he considered brothers. Once Rusty passed away and both Rooster and Reaper went through their own heartbreaks, while battling their personal demons along the way, they fell off. They all fell off. Rooster became exactly what he hated the most. Reaper vanished and a stranger came back to take his place. Barely recognizable. Not the man Sly grew up with. And Rocky, he never changed. He stood at his post and took the hits as they came but he never left. He never changed. He became a fixture in this town, where something was always happening to force change. Force men to adapt or get left behind.

Well, that wasn’t completely true seeing how he did change a bad habit of his. Drinking was a bad habit of his. Now he traded one problem with another, obsessively working around the clock to make a difference. Problem is everyone in this town was finding a fixer and a healer in someone, especially with the men in blue. Not once did they look inward and think, this person deserves to be seen at face value. People weren’t fixer uppers like cars or a house. You take men as is. Broken, damaged, and living by a code so they don’t give into the part of them that was absolutely fed up with everything. The part of them they weren’t proud about.

Sly knew, in time, he could meet his breaking point. He carried a lot of weight on his shoulders and secrets from the dead that were tearing away at his heart, making him question what the hell was the point of all this and why did he bother. Sly knew, in time, a hit would come for him so hard, he won’t be able to pick himself up. Not like how he always could. He was a punching bag absorbing pain, grief and trauma and still finding the energy to get out of bed every morning. Sly knew, in time, he would be the one that needed to be lifted up, led to a calming glade, to rest and take in the fresh air, told finally, by someone, it was okay to rest. It was okay to breathe. It was okay to drop the armor and not be strong. It was okay to not be okay.

That time was not right now.

“Nah, I won’t relax at home,” Sly sighed out of his nose before turning to his coworker and chuckling, “Haven’t you heard I have a whole little family living there and it isn’t my own.” There was no malice in his tone. Actually it was quite the opposite. To have his home filled with laughter and smiles or just be lively again definitely helped him get through his days. It was his offer anyway, since there was no way he would let Mordechai live in small apartments with his lady friend and children. Plus, by doing that, he felt an extra push to finally start fixing up his other place and maybe officially move to the other side of the train tracks. Sage would love to hear her family’s home being brought back to life and no longer a ghost story. He just needed time to do so. His job left little room for leisure time. “Thanks, though, for checking up. If I’m being honest, Colin, I wouldn’t even know where to start. I’ve never been good at talking about myself unless it’s a story from my Rocky days trying to get kids to see beyond that life. Even now, I’m here with you, someone I’ve worked with for years, and I’m searching for words to say.”

“You know, technically, you’re saying words to me right now.” Colin let out a chuckle that came deep the depths of his gut, something Colin was known for. When he wasn’t burying himself in paperwork and actually allowed himself to live a bit, Colin was a lighthearted individual. “But I know what you mean. You don’t need to say anything, Sly if you aren’t feeling up to it.” There were days where talking and opening up felt counterproductive and Colin could understand that mindset. Having been there himself too many times, Colin understood it more than anyone. And there were days where he’d feel tempted to hit the bottle just once to silence the demons in his head and those were the days when he really didn’t want to talk.

A day like today. A day when he went to a place that he knew he’d get unsolicited advice and he was grateful for Antoine in that sense.

“You hungry, Sly? Because I’m starving.” With a completely change of topic, Colin knew what needed to happen. Sly needed to get away from that mindset. If there was one thing Colin could take away from his father and the rarity he had good advice, it was when a friend of yours was down and out, treat them to some food. Food always solved most of life’s problems. “Been craving some insanely cheap and delicious tacos. Westbrook’s got the best in town. Let me treat you to some. And if you feel like talking, you can thank me for treating you to some bitchin tacos.”

Sly smiled at that. He realized over the course of years, yes he considered his colleagues family but not in the same sense he considered those he grew up with as family. He separated his worlds, not wanting them to collide and cause a big mess for him to clean up. When he went to work parties and the like, he gave his regards and had a good time, cracking jokes and giving advice, but not once did he try to build bridges with the other officers, detectives and civilian staff members. Work and personal life were a rare combination for him. Never mixed to avoid disaster. Maybe it was time to change that mindset and take Colin’s offer at face value. His colleague wanted to see if he was okay and he cared more about his coworkers than Sly expected. Giving the other man a chance, Officer James shrugged and stood up, “I could eat.”

Taking out his keys, he unlocked his vehicle which was right behind the bench they were sitting at. “Your family okay with this? I don’t have dinner plans, but do know if you got somewhere to be, you got somewhere to be. I can handle dinner alone. I’m a big boy.” Sly humored, knowing more often than not he ate alone at the office. He wasn’t one to impose and family was far more important than some sad cop going through marital issues.

“The kids are practically adults now. Marco texted me about an hour ago, saying he’ll be at swerve until closing. Said something about needing to decompress because Lollipop did it again. What it is, I don’t know, but Marco has always been my little mystery. Emil is, in his own words, ‘kicking it with my bro’. And Marcy, she’s probably somewhere being her own person.” Colin couldn’t shut up about his kids. He was so proud of them all. Mostly Marco because just a month ago, he wasn’t sure Marco would break out of the shell Decker forced him into. God helped him find his way. “As for my strong, lovely wife, she doesn’t get off close to seven, so you’re stuck with me for the next hour or so.”

He reached into his pocket, his keys in hand and twirled it between his fingers. “You know the street, right? Basically where all the food trucks linger. See ya there, Sly!”

“I’d say race you there but we’re above that life,” Sly bid his brother in arms adieu and went in his car. He sat there watching the other man walk to his truck and drive off. Taking a couple moments to breathe in and out, he prepared himself to try to talk. Or just eat.

He was fucking hungry.