Dawn Chorus (Proxies x Reader)

Tests and Tasks

"Melody left us with the information needed to make you disappear," Tim says, looking back at me. "It will be a long process, talking to a lot of people, swearing off your lasty living friend and your family. You sure you can handle that?"

His eyes narrow at me. I shrink under his gaze, shrug, rub my arm to keep from gripping it into a bruise.

"What other choice is there?"

"You tell me," Tim says.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans his weight back onto his heels. He considers me with mild interest, or majority disinterest.

"Think you can make yourself disappear, or are we going to have to do things the hard way?"

"I can't do what you think I can do." I shift my weight side to side, from one foot to the other. "But I don't think it needs to be a long process. I disappear a lot."

I eye a small pile sticking out from the rest of the clutter. Rather than being neatly organized in the wall of stuff, it sits distinct, an island of a small, weaved basket and the thin remains of a sunhat, half unwoven around the brim and with the pinkish ribbon hanging half off. There is white, studded glue where fake flowers or some other decoration was once attached. I walk over and slowly pick it up from the pile. It's brim crackles in my hands, small bits of shattered straw poking at my fingers.

"This is a bit bigger—"

"No," I cut Tim off, setting the hat carefully on my head. "It's actually a pretty perfect situation for me to disappear in. I just have to remove my stuff from my apartment, probably sell most of it, and tell Camilla where to contact me next... Send flowers for Sadie's funeral...or donate for a tree in her name."

My voice trails off to a whisper towards the end. Sadie gone. I probably missed her funeral, just like I have certainly missed Mason's. I'll have to see if that is public information since I didn't have my phone on me during the run and can't admit to finding his body, though all the blood Camilla undoubtedly saw one me may have told her I already knew. I had lost it...tossed it more likely. Maybe I was already setting up to disappear anyways.

"And the cops?" Tim asks in mild annoyance.

"It won't be the first time I refused to speak to them," I reluctantly admit.

I finally look back at Tim. His posture has tensed again, back on guard with his arms over his chest. His jaw tightens and loosens, clicks. He is staring above my head, thinking, or maybe glaring at the hat which fits far too comfortably.

"Fine, give me your address and I'll have Hoodie clear your apartment," Tim says.

"I'd rather—"

"And I'd rather you stick to the plan or do some eldritch entity bullshit. This is compromise, sunshine. I'll take you to talk to your friend, but you better keep fucking quiet about—"

"I know," I snap back at Tim, taking my turn to cut him off.

The room seems to ripple and groan. Tim takes a threatening step forward and the floorboard creaks, bowing under his weight. He holds my gaze in a sharp glare, then quickly turns and storms from the room. He disappears back down the hall, quiet as a mouse, which means loud and echoing through the hollows in the walls, uncaring of who or what hears.

The ribbon half stuck to the hat falls into my face. I gently reach up to tuck the ribbed fabric back around the hat, tucking it loosely behind itself. Comfort fills me at the contact. This is my hat now, but it feels wrong to simply take it. Below me the floorboards almost rattle, pops and crackles filling the space. My eyes fall down to watch the splinters around the scratches to wriggle and snap back into place. The injuries pucker then heal smooth like human skin on an accelerated timeline. I draw my feet together, stand with the same tight posture as the woman when she first came here, but the room is not hostile to me. The air becomes warm and bright, smelling of candlewax and potpourri, vanilla and almonds, something freshly baked. I take a deep breath and settle.

"May I keep the hat?" I ask.

And the room seems almost to nod. I nod back.

"Thank you very much."

I make my way from the space slowly, step into the small hall. It doesn't feel as dark and cold, nor impossibly long this time around. Without fuss or delay, it takes me right back to the bookshelf in Hoodie's room. The space is empty and clean as I step into it. The terrible odor lingers, thin as lace but ever-present. The tray of poisonous plants has been put away, leaving the work table perfectly empty and nearly spotless say for the new stain sunk deeply into the wood.

A soft creak draws my eyes to the door. Hoodie fills the doorway a silhouette.

"You need my address?" I ask.

I try to stifle the fear being cornered in a room with him evokes. I touch the new sunhat, remind myself it is there and I am somehow new beneath it. Hoodie stares at me unresponsive, until I take a shuffling step towards him. He tilts his head to the side, then slowly, he nods. I take another step towards him, then another, willing myself forward until Hoodie steps aside from my approach and lets me exit.

"Want to come along?" He asks once I am halfway down the hallway.

I glance back at him, blinking away my shock. He is slightly hunched, relaxed in the same position he moved into to let me pass by, glancing over his shoulder at an angle that must strain his neck. I chew the inside of my cheek, let my fear of him swell. But I'd rather he not be alone with my stuff. And he probably knows that. I don't trust the words to come out cool or calm, so I simply nod. At least for a while, I'll get to go home. The thought makes my stomach sink, and I pull the sunhat down lower.