The Untold Story of Texas and Lappland (Arknights)

Days of Forgotten Past 8

"I . . . I was." Briefly she considered lying but decided against it. Even with the crisp air chilling her bones the scent of smoke was too heavy to dissuade so soon.

Gran shook her head, disappointment written in a somber frown and knit eyebrows. "I told you those things were bad. You and Houston shouldn't indulge in such habits. They'll get you killed."

"Yes Gran. I know. I just . . ." Texas trailed off. The words were at the tip of her tongue, unwilling to spill out like a cup tipped over. Instead they were lodged in her throat to choke her lungs that had such a hard time taking in relieving air as of late.

"You're worried." It wasn't a question.

Texas sighed. The calm from the poisonous nicotine was beginning to fade. No drug could solve her problems, not when they were so numerous; not when the stress weighed down so heavily. "Lappland. She's getting worse." Admitting it was hard. A knot twisted in her chest, far more gnarled than anything she could find in the wooden railing. The jumble of feelings were so warped it was impossible to make heads or tails of any of them at times. However, the bitter grief amidst it all was unmistakable.

"I can tell. Texas, what do you plan to do about her?"

A wrinkled hand reached over, plucking the cigarette box from her grip to replace it with the cajoling warmth of a ceramic mug. Texas accepted the steaming drink gratefully, taking a sip before offering up a response. The tea was sweet with an undertone of honey and she licked her lips as drops dribbled out of the corners of her lips.

"I don't know. Lappland . . . I just want her to go back to normal. But, I don't know how to make that happen, and, well, she just keeps getting worse . . ." Texas shivered, from the cold or her worries she could not determine which.

Gran nodded. "I figured you might be uncertain. Here, how about we go inside and talk. We can warm up while we're at it."

Texas clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. The tea had remedied some of the cold, but not enough to stop the shivers. "What about the others?" As far as she knew, Lappland and Houston were still slumbering away. She had no desire to wake them.

Gran smiled faintly, like she appreciated Texas's concerns even if they were a little unnecessary. "It'll be fine as long as we keep quiet. Those two sleep like the dead when they're comfortable."

Texas found herself picturing Lappland curled up in bed. Her limp arms were probably still reaching out for her even in sleep as a smile graced her features. When Lappland was asleep, face not contorted with the anger and greed for bloodlust that marred her during the day hours, Texas let herself imagine everything was fine, that there was nothing wrong at all. It was easy to pretend they were at peace whenever she looked at the small, blissed out smile. Hopefully Lappland had found a replacement for Texas in the nearby pillows. She didn't want to upset her girlfriend's serenity.

"Okay."

And that was how Texas found herself tucked in an armchair by the fireplace. Gran was sitting on the couch adjacent to her, sipping at her own cup of tea. With the light switches flicked off, the flames were all that allowed amber-blue eyes to stare back at wiser, older amber. Shadows were cast across the planes of Gran's face, but Texas had no trouble picking out their similarities. Their eyes were different colors though their shape was the same, a sharpness to them that could not be replaced. Jawlines with the same bends and curves and ears that rarely sloped down. Gran had taken the temporary return from retirement with stride after Texas's parents had passed on. It was thanks to her that their pack was still able to function while she grew up.

"So tell me Texas, what has Lappland been doing lately? You say she's gotten worse. She's been killing again hasn't she?" Gran was perceptive as ever; Texas didn't know whether to be happy or displeased.