The Chickadee Girl

The Third Awakening

The previous day's quest to open the door had been a welcome distraction, but Tristan slept badly despite their fatigue. He cried out for Midas several times in his sleep, and all Isa had been able to do was hold him as he trembled and sobbed and battled Stagger in his dreams. At some moments she had cried too, feeling her helplessness weigh heavy. By the time Tristan shifted into a deeper sleep, his breath slowed and his terror subsided, the dawn was breaking.

And a rotting pit of rage had set up residence in Isa's gut.

She would find Stagger, that much was certain. When they had fled two days ago, she had been hoping against hope that they might avoid him, that he had moved on or died or that luck might somehow be on their side. She had had reason to hope, at least.

But now her resolve had hardened, and fury coursed through her blood at a slow boil. She stumbled into the bathroom, leaned over the wall of sinks and splashed cold water on her face. Still leaning forward, a quick glance in the bathroom mirror confirmed that her face was pale with suppressed rage. This is the face of a killer, she thought. I'm going to rip Stagger apart.

Tristan was still sleeping, no doubt exhausted -- what he had been doing for the last many hours couldn't be rightfully be called sleep. From the doorway, she stroked his face with her eyes, and cursed her inability to save him from all of this. How could she be so useless?

Then a thought crossed her mind, and it was one which bore absolutely no connection to their current situation.

Raspberries. His favourite. 

She would get him some. It was the only thing that she knew for sure that Tristan loved, besides Midas. She could do at least that much for him.

She stared at him for a moment, small and pale on the bed. Was it worth leaving him alone, though? Even if it was for just a few minutes?

It would be worth it to see him smile when she handed over the raspberries. In fact, in that moment, Isa knew she would do nearly anything to see Tristan smile, and that in itself was a bit of a shock. Quickly, she scrawled "back soon" on a slip of paper from Cass' desk drawer, and left it next to him on the bed. She locked him in, and strode out of Peyman in the direction of the dining hall. Before she had scampered carefully, fearful of being seen; this time she stalked, no longer jumping at every shadow, and not nearly as concerned with scanning the horizon. She was too angry, she realized. Much as the thought of Stagger still made her skin prickle, she half hoped she might run into the bleeding bastard, and she readied her new hammer, just in case. The cleaved-open classroom block hove into view, and she barely gave it a glance.

She heaved open the heavy dining hall door, and scanned the sea of tables, not for people, but for anything that might have changed - a knocked down chair or an open window. Nothing had changed, and so she proceeded into the kitchen, and strode back to the fridge. The light in the walk-in was dim - she'd never gone in there searching for anything specific, she realized. Before, she'd always just grabbed the first thing she'd seen. It required extensive rummaging, but she eventually located a small open cardboard box. Inside, small individual plastic cartons of berries were grouped by type. Blueberries. Blackberries. Raspberries.

She pulled out two containers of raspberries, clutching one in each had. Back in the kitchen, she opened the containers and briefly ran some water over the contents, darkly amused that she was even thinking about berry pesticides while monsters prowled the grounds and corridors.

She strode back out into the dining room, and made her way back across the common, still angry, but happy that at least she might bring Tristan some small happiness with her gift. Still in an anger-fuelled bubble of overconfidence, she glanced around to make sure that nothing had changed. All was still.