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[center][url=https://open.spotify.com/track/4zvvvHm0b5CBl37tocxm7n?si=Um_W30pzQqq2Kl9ChrPfWQ][img]https://i.imgur.com/ndfIoDS.jpeg[/img][/url][/center]
[COLOR=tan][indent][sub][B]Location:[/B] [COLOR=SILVER][I]Home - Debolt, Alberta, Canada
[/I][/COLOR][/sub][sup][right][b] Human: #5.080 [/B][COLOR=SILVER][I]I Would Gladly Be The Icarus To Your Certainty[/I][/COLOR][/right][/sup][/indent][sub][hr][/sub][INDENT][sub][B]Interaction(s):[/B] [COLOR=SILVER][I]Rory [@Webboysurf][/I][/COLOR][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][b]Previously:[/b] [COLOR=SILVER][I]I’d Love You Without Any Wings Attached[/I][/COLOR][/right][/SUP][/INDENT][/COLOR]

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[color=#808080]Groceries jostled within two large paper bags that Haven held tightly to her chest as she stepped out of the grocer and into the crisp late autumn air outside. Her head turned in the direction of the shop Miller had taken Rory to, but there was no sign of her partner and their landlord along the near empty street. It was an odd feeling to be without Rory for this long. She didn’t feel unsafe, but she didn’t feel at ease either.[/color]

[color=#808080]She turned towards the weathered bench that sat outside the store, her steps soft as she moved to set the week’s supply of food upon it. Her small, feathered limbs adjusted themselves against her back as she took the remaining space for herself. As she leaned back against the wood, she felt each bone in her wings press against her. Another reminder that they weren’t fully developed. That gravity claimed her feet against the pavement beneath her soles and the sky remained out of reach to her.[/color]

[color=#808080]Haven turned her gaze to the clouds that swiftly drifted past and over the mountain that began at the town’s edge. She tried to guess the location of her and Rory’s little cabin along the mountain’s slope, mentally mapping the way back to their new home by the roads and not by what could have been an aerial view. The sound of an old engine humming greeted her ears just as she figured she’d found it. Her gaze turned down the street once more, and she laid eyes upon a truck with rust claiming it’s paint. Through its dirty windshield she saw Miller sitting in the passenger seat, but the familiar figure beside him made her heart leap in her chest. [/color]

[color=#808080]The subtle, pained expression on his face was the only reason her smile did not reach her dimples as the truck pulled into the space in front of her. She gathered the groceries a little too quickly, standing to walk to the passenger side where Miller had opened the door.[/color]

	[color=#d2b48c]“You found a truck for us.”[/color][color=#808080] She greeted the older man as she approached.[/color]

	[color=#808080][color=white]“I even spared ya’ll a few pennies for the state it’s in.”[/color] He grunted as he stepped onto the pavement. [/color][color=white]“It runs well enough to get you into town and back. Shouldn’t have to worry about maintenance until spring.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Haven nodded, as if she knew anything about cars, and she glanced inside the cabin of the truck where Rory sat on a well-worn bucket seat similar to Miller’s. [/color][color=#d2b48c]“Thank you, for helping us out like this. We should be out of your hair for a while now.”[/color]

	[color=#808080][color=white]“Just don’t be strangers, dear. I don’t have much to do nowadays, anyways.”[/color] He said, already making his way around the front of the truck as Haven turned her head back towards him. She watched as he took one last look over the wheels and rusted bumper before heading towards his better version of their newest possession.[/color]

[color=#808080]Haven offered him a wave as he backed out of the lot, and then stepped into the space where the door opened into the cabin. An exhale left her lips as she set the paper bags onto the seat in front of her, then slid the bags into the center. Her eyes then lifted to look into those blues that turned towards her. She smiled softly, before she climbed into the truck and shut the chilly air out with the door beside her. [/color][color=#d2b48c]“How did it go?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Rory shrugged, shifting the car into gear and rotating his torso. He rested his right elbow on the seat, his left hand gripping the wheel as he slowly backed out of the parking spot. His brow was furrowed in concentration.[/color] [color=#04cf3a]“It's fine for the price. He didn't ask too many questions.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The car rolled to a stop, and Rory seamlessly shifted the car back into first gear. His breath caught in the movement, his legs still feeling like jelly from minimal use. Pricks of pain shot up their length, while the car slowly began to roll through the small town. Gus stood out in front of his shop, giving the pair a small wave and smile as they passed. Rory sighed.[/color] [color=#04cf3a]“He asked for a favor, though. Gotta meet up with him Sunday.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Haven’s focus remained on Rory’s discomfort even as she rolled her shoulders to appease her own. She had to glance out of the filmy rear window to get a look at the man who must have sold them their ride, having missed him when they first passed by.[/color]

	[color=#d2b48c]“I wish the women in this town were the same way.”[/color][color=#808080] She mused as her head turned back to face him. [/color][color=#d2b48c]“I met a few of our neighbors today. Seems our story holds up well among the housewives.”[/color]

	[color=#d2b48c]“Is this favor… something simple? He didn’t ask you to go hunting, did he?”[/color]

[color=#808080]A small smile flashed across Rory's face at the suggestion, though his eyes remained fixed on the road as they turned onto the road out of town.[/color] [color=#04cf3a]“I think he knew it would have been more trouble than it's worth.”[/color] [color=#808080]He shifted the car as he sped up a bit down the country road to find their turnoff.[/color][color=#04cf3a] “He just wants me to attend a meeting after the Sunday service. I figure it might help to know more locals.”[/color] [color=#808080] Rory turned his gaze briefly towards Haven, a devilish grin spreading across his lips. [/color][color=#04cf3a]“It's a big price to pay, given how I would prefer to spend that afternoon.”[/color]

[color=#808080]He looked back towards the treeline, downshifting as he spotted their turn. Pavement gave way to gravel, and it became really apparent how bad the suspension was. Rory slowed the car to a stop, tilting his head slightly.[/color][color=#04cf3a] “Haven… do you know how to drive?”[/color]

	[color=#d2b48c]“Hmm?” [/color][color=#808080]Haven’s eyebrows rose.[/color]

[color=#808080]Her mind was currently occupied, her teeth grazing her bottom lip while her eyes were busy moving over his toned arms. She blinked as the question registered, and [/color][color=#808080]immediately[/color][color=#808080] looked his way with a grin that told him she’d been caught thinking about just how she’d spend that afternoon with him.[/color]

	[color=#d2b48c]“No, I…”[/color][color=#808080] The grin faded quickly as she cleared her throat and shifted herself so that she was angled towards him. Her hand rose from her lap to tuck her fly aways behind her left ear. [/color][color=#d2b48c]“I’ve sat in the driver's seat a few times, and I know which is the gas and which is the brake, but I’ve never made the car move.”[/color]

	[color=#04cf3a]“Ok… well, that's about half the battle… let's start with this.”[/color][color=#808080] Rory was surprisingly focused, lowering his hands to shift himself in the seat as far left as he could, beckoning Haven to slide over. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he eyed over the truck, his mind circling back to days he had nearly forgotten. He glossed over the profanity and condescension, trying to remember the bits that stuck and helped him.[/color]

	[color=#04cf3a]“This is a manual, so there's two extra things to keep track of. The clutch is on the left here.”[/color] [color=#808080]Rory's left foot tapped a pedal Haven was certainly unfamiliar with.[/color] [color=#04cf3a]“You'll need to press on this whenever you want to shift gears with this.”[/color][color=#808080] Rory's right hand rested on the gearshift, nestled up underneath the old radio on a small console of its own.[/color][color=#04cf3a] “It takes some getting used to… but-”[/color][color=#808080] Rory's eyes drifted back towards Haven for a moment, words catching in his throat. He simply cleared it, waving a hand. [/color][color=#04cf3a]“Let's swap. Road is empty out here, it's perfect for practice.” [/color]

[color=#808080]Haven’s brows rose where she now sat beside Rory in the seat. She’d looked over the extra parts needed to drive the truck as he explained and couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. She didn’t even know why gears needed to shift to get the car in motion.[/color]

[color=#808080]Still, she gave Rory a nod when he suggested they swap places. Her body shifted to push the grocery bags further into the passenger seat first so he would have more space in the middle. Without even considering getting out of the vehicle to come to the driver’s side door, Haven instead chose to lift her butt off of the seat to allow him space to take her spot. While he moved, she leaned herself backwards over his lap until she was sitting in the driver’s spot. Her legs then lifted over his to place themselves by the break and gas.[/color]

	[color=#d2b48c]“So,” [/color][color=#808080]she began as her hands reached to run themselves over the steering wheel. She looked under the wheel as she tested her sneaker against each of the flat pedals at her feet. The engine revved as she put pressure on the gas pedal, which made her hands tense on the wheel like she’d expected the truck to lurch forward in response. When it didn’t, she released a breathy chuckle and looked his way as she placed her foot back on the flooring. [/color][color=#d2b48c]“I’m guessing I can’t just hit the gas and go? Do I have to shift the gears first?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Her right foot moved to tap the clutch, while her hand drifted to rest on the ball at the top of the metal stick she didn’t know the name for.[/color]

	[color=#04cf3a]“No, that’s-”[/color] Rory caught himself before he chided her, and an amused grin spread as Haven looked at him with innocent confusion. [color=#04cf3a]“I’ll go over it again, just… take your foot off of the clutch.”[/color]

[hr]
Late into the evening, Haven sat curled up in the rocking chair as Rory prepped the fire for the night. Outside, the branches of the trees swayed by the hands of the late autumn breeze blowing in. Her gaze drifted between the stars that poked through the leaves outside, the sight of Rory’s frame illuminated by the firelight, and the sketchbook that rested in her hands. She leafed through it carefully, like it was something ancient and precious. As if one wrong move would tear the page or smudge the art that her father had left behind.

If she hadn’t been in such a good mood after Rory successfully taught her how to make it up the driveway, she wouldn’t have reached for the reminder of heartache and loss. These pages held memories of a family she’d never had. A family that had been broken apart by tragedy. Still, the man that left it behind had poured so much emotion into each drawing. She could see the love he had for his children, for his wife, for the home they had shared. It was strange, though, to look upon the sketch of herself sitting outside of that orphanage. She couldn’t see what he’d been feeling when he put the lead to paper. Maybe she just didn’t want to.

She moved on from the page before it hurt to look any longer, continuing to turn through memories that she’d been fated to never experience.

Soon the pages came to rest on a new portrait. A folded piece of paper slipped out of the sketchbook and into her lap suddenly, but it was quickly forgotten as her eyes scanned every feature etched into the paper. Haven felt her heart stutter. The woman on the page was not a part of Harper’s family. It was a face both familiar and foreign to Haven, and it left her breathless.

This woman had bottle blonde hair. Her natural dirty blonde roots grew out of her skull like grass, as if she hadn’t been taking care of the color. Her face was slim, her cheeks slightly hollowed, and small dark patches rested under her weary eyes. Haven knew that the gray lead of her irises was meant to be a brown, the color of the bark on a sugar maple tree. The light that had shined within them, long ago, was not represented in the dull shading that surrounded a black pupil.

The woman on the page had known love, had given it freely to the one she considered precious, worked long hours and late nights to make ends meet, had overcome so much just to lose it all in one fleeting moment. She’d felt the loss of a loved one and the heartache of knowing that she had tried her best to keep them, and it hadn’t been enough.

She’d been Haven’s entire world. Her protector, her home, her joy, her teacher, her constant in a life that moved too fast, and the ground beneath her feet.

	[i]Her mother.[/i]

Haven traced a featherweight finger over the outline of her cheek. Memories flickered in her mind like candlelight of soft skin, the smell of hairspray and bleach, and a glimpse of dimples that framed a soft smile. Little things that Haven had clung to as her childhood faded from memory.

Her gaze dropped to the paper in her lap, then, and she felt her heart constrict.

Why did James Baxter have a sketch of her mother? Had he met with her after he’d decided not to bring Haven home? What did they talk about, reuniting so long after their affair had produced a daughter, and how did they feel when they both parted to become strangers again?

Haven let the sketchbook rest against her knees as her hands reached for the folded parchment. There was no name scrawled on the blank surface, no indication of what was hidden between the two ends. Curiosity urged her to open it but her heart wasn’t sure if she was ready to. Her thumb slid between the crease and rested there for a few heartbeats, before she gripped each side and smoothed it out in front of her.

She’d guessed it was a letter, had hoped it was from her mother, but the handwriting within it had the same scrawling loops and dashes of the signature that adorned a few of the sketches in the notebook in front of her.

Her heart sank in her chest because it wasn’t what she wanted it to be. It wasn’t from [i]her[/i].

It all but plummeted into her stomach as she read the words that James had left behind.

It was dated after Haven had run away from the girls home. A few years before the accident that would claim his life. Even if he wasn’t sure Haven would ever read it, James wanted someone to know her story. To understand the strange connection between James Baxter and Mary Barnes. How that connection had brought Haven into the world.

It wasn’t at all what Harper, even Sierra, guessed it to be.

Haven herself couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. The paper bent and crumpled between her hands. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, but frustration held them back like a dam to a reservoir at capacity. It felt like he was telling the truth, but none of it made any sense. None of it seemed fair.

But when did life ever seem fair to Haven Barnes?

The frustration melted into a sardonicism that had her shoving the note back into the sketchbook. She shut it in her lap, and quickly put it away before any more secrets could come spilling out from between its pages.

	[color=#04cf3a]“Everything alright, Dove?”[/color] Rory’s voice approached her where she crouched by the bed.

The concern those sky blue eyes held as they glanced at the sketchbook’s hiding place instantly cracked Haven’s cynical mood. She stood from the bed to face him and attempted a smile, which held for about half of a second before it fell. With a soft sigh, she slumped onto the bed and held her hand out for him.

Rory rolled himself over to her without hesitation. Instead of taking her hand, though, he gently pulled her towards him and into his lap. Haven gratefully allowed it, even positioned herself so that most of her weight rested where it would hurt the least as her wings shifted against her to avoid the armrest.  One of his hands cradled her head against his shoulder, while she felt the other wrap around her to gently caress her arm.

	[color=tan]“It’s hard… looking through his things.”[/color] Her soft murmur was laced with disappointment.

His hand squeezed her arm gently, and she felt a kiss pressed against her forehead. Her eyelids, heavy with the mix of emotions that kept her from saying any more, soon lowered until she closed her eyes. His comforting touch said more than any words could have conveyed. Everything was right with the world when he held her like this.

She listened to the beating of his heart, slowed her breathing until hers matched its rhythm, and allowed it to lull her into peace. The crackling of the fire was the only sound besides the soft symphony of the forest outside.

Except when she finally took a breath and prepared to tell him what she’d learned, a chill ran up the length of her spine to ruffle her feathers as the world outside of the cabin fell eerily silent. Even the fire seemed to hold its breath. Nature itself understood that a predator lurked in the darkness outside.

Haven lifted her head from Rory’s shoulder to peer out of the windows. Her brows twitched, a line presenting itself between them.

	Something was [i]wrong[/i].

The townsfolk, H.E.L.P., Hyperion’s Children, [b]the monster[/b], [i]Daedalus[/i] … Whatever it could be, it didn’t belong in the forest.

	[color=tan]“Rory… I don’t think we’re alone.”[/color]

Rory’s grip tightened on her like he wished that their moment of serenity could have lasted forever. The two shared a look, sky blues and golds and greens meeting to express the fears that they had hoped to never experience again. Haven dipped her chin once in a nod.

	[color=#04cf3a]“Stick to the plan?”[/color] His expression shifted into the hardened man that Haven had only seen a few times in their relationship as he asked the question. This man would go to any length to keep the people he loved safe from harm. The first time she’d seen it had worried her, but now… This part of Rory gave her the courage to match it.

	[color=tan]“Stick to the plan.”[/color]

Haven moved out of his lap with haste, and knelt down next to the bed once more. From underneath it she retrieved his duffle and her backpack. Both of them stuffed with only the essentials so that their weight wouldn’t affect their escape. She kept herself low to the ground as she moved to the front door, dumping the bags by the door as she grabbed their shoes.

Rory, on the other hand, rolled himself back over to the fireplace. He reached for the iron poker, like he had a week earlier, and then for the cane he’d bought off of Gus. By the time he’d done this, Haven was knelt at his feet and already reaching to secure his shoes onto them.

Her fingers moved efficiently, but the slight shake to her hands suggested that panic had already begun to creep into her mind.

	[color=tan]“Good thing we haven’t stripped yet.”[/color]

Her joke was the only indication that her fear would not win tonight.

	[color=#04cf3a]“Jacket and keys next, Haven.”[/color]

The command came across like a soft reminder.

Haven was grateful for it. She hastily secured her own sneakers onto her bare feet in response. She’d forgotten to grab them while she was by the door. The mistake was swiftly rectified, her trembling hands tucking the truck’s keys into his jacket pocket on her return. Rory was standing when she made it back to him, and the two looked into each other’s eyes as they both worked Rory’s arms into the outer layer.

	[color=tan]“I love you, Rory Tyler.”[/color]

	[color=04cf3a]“I love you, Dove.”[/color]

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Haven was reaching for him, pulling him as close as she could get him, and Rory did the same. Their kiss was passionate, desperate, longing, as if they weren’t sure they would ever get to have a moment like this again. Neither of them wanted to let go, to risk the separation from the other. Haven wished they had more time. They could have been happy here, until the end of their days.

When they finally broke the kiss, Rory held her close for one more moment as they both caught their breath.

	[color=#04cf3a]“Promise me you’ll run if it’s him.”[/color]

Haven looked up at him, her expression shifting to express her refusal, but Rory cut her off.

	[color=#04cf3a]“I’m not asking, Dove.”[/color] His stern tone was contrasted by the gentle way his hand caressed her cheek.

Her eyes flitted between his, desperate to refuse him again, but the pleading look in his eyes convinced her otherwise. She nodded, even if she wasn’t sure she’d ever truly be capable of leaving him behind. She’d claw her way back to him if they were ever separated again.

The two kissed once more, soft and rushed, before Rory grabbed the cane from the table and took up a position by the front door. Haven reached for the iron poker on the table before she took her place by the only other entrance to the cabin.

Her clammy hands tightened their grip on the iron. Her heartbeat was steadily rising, along with her temperature. She could only pray that another growth spurt would wait until tomorrow. That she could get a grip on herself long enough to survive until then.

The couple shared one last look as they waited for the thing that lurked outside to make its move.

This time they weren’t going quietly.[/color]