Fate liked to watch life unfurl around them. If they weren't careful, years or decades could go past in the blink of an eye and they could miss everything. When they focused, really focused, Fate could sit in a moment and pretend that they were a part of the story. The twists and surprises of life were fun and all, but it was the dull mundane moments they enjoyed best. Sitting on a park bench drinking coffee, folding clothes while humming a song you can't get out of your head, walking in a rainstorm, small things that were often overlooked but essential to humanity.
Fate was fascinated by humanity. These beings who could journey past the atmosphere and start wars were such fragile little things. One fall or a sneeze too many and they were reminded of delicate design. How wonderfully flawed they were.
⟴
While Finn recovered, Davina spent the next few days learning the various uses of different plants with Robert. In the morning after their breakfast she was to read The Practice of Traditional Herbalism: Basic Doctrine, and Herbal Foraging: A Field Guide to Basic Classification. The first book was so dense and wordy that Davina was sure Robert only gave it to her with the hopes that she would grow bored and eventually want to quit, the field guide was far more fascinating. She remembered flipping through it on one of her first days at 1229 Bell st, finding the illustrations fascinating. The more she read the more her interest grew.
Every now and again she would shout various questions throughout the house, waiting for Robert's jokingly annoyed response, or she'd follow him around the house and ask for more detail on certain plants, filling a notebook with what he told her.
An amused Finn got to watch their interactions after Robert officially deemed him "healthy enough to get off his ass." Sitting across from Lori, whose nose was practically pressed into the pages of her book, he jumped as she shouted her twentieth question.
"Is this plant really where marshmallows come from?"
"What?" came Robert's confused voice from the second floor.
"The Mal-malve-" he liked how her nose scrunched up when she focused. "The malvaceae, of the mallow family. Is this really where marshmallows come from?" The page she was on had drawings of hollyhock, and the breakdown of how to identify the flower in the wild.
"It's in the name right? So yeah. Quit buggin' me and read." Finn smiled into his coffee, though the old man sounded annoyed he knew being asked about vegetation was practically the highlight of his day. The only reason why he let the girl stay in the beginning was because for some reason he could tell that Bobby cared for her. He had stopped trying to find out the girl's real identity, if she made the old man this happy then she could stay forever in his opinion.
Once Robert concluded that Finn would be able to walk more than a mile without passing out, he was put to work. The second part of Davina's job had been put on hold until he was up and about, everyone sure that she would get lost without a bit of help. So when he handed her a list that afternoon, she practically buzzed with excitement.
The excitement quickly wore off the moment she stepped outside and the Bridlo weather sucked the air out of her lungs. It was easy to forget how cold it was becoming when one was cooped up in a warm house all day.
"Told ya you should have grabbed a thicker coat," remarked Finn once he saw her shiver and tuck her hands into her sleeves.
"Oh, don't act like you're not cold." She decided to focus on how annoying it was that he never seemed to be bothered by the frigid temperature, instead of how the brisk wind was wrapping itself around her cheeks and legs. Maybe I should have worn another pair of leggings under this skirt. Unlike their last list, this errand had them leaving the town and searching for various plants and materials in the nearby woods.
"Livin' on a boat will do that to ya I guess." His gaze looked thoughtful before he added, "imagine it being twice as cold, and you're completely soaked because some giant wave just washed over everything."
Oh right, she had forgotten his job before coming to stay with them, forgotten that he had to go back at some point. "Did you always want to be a fisherman? That explains the bedsheets in your old room," she teased. She loved the little sailboats on the dark blue comforter, it was so different to the plain skratchy brown sheets she had grown up with.
He barked out a laugh, "no those were a joke gift from Bobby one year. He thought it would be funny to redecorate the whole room with a sailor theme, but he got as far as the bed before he gave up."
"Yeah that sounds like him," she laughed. "Is that why Simmons calls you guppy as well?"
He shot her a humorless scowl, "I was hoping you had forgotten about that."
She grinned and shook her head, "in your dreams, gup."
"Don't call me that," he groaned, sounding more annoyed than angry.
"Sure thing.....Guppy," she whispered. They kept up the friendly banter as they walked through the busy streets.
Children ran past then shrieking in delight as they left schoolhouses and played in the streets with friends. The echoing shouts of Merchant's Corner could still be heard even though they were several blocks away, and Davina even thought she heard the whistle of a train somewhere in the distance. Having only read about them in books she was interested to know how such hulking pieces of metal were able to travel so quickly.
As they drew nearer towards the edge of town the sounds of life grew fainter until they were drowned by the songs of nature. Davina tried to swallow the lump of homesickness in her throat. This was the same patch of woods that she had hiked through from the shrine, with the hand drawn map from Sister Zinnia clutched in her hand. This time she wasn't barefoot, hungry, or scared of what was to come. Now she was layered in colorful clothing she could call her own, she knew she could talk without fearing discipline, and when they were done gathering plants she knew she was going home to a warm house and a little family of her own. If only her younger self could have known this would be their future, what a different life they would have had.
"Hey," Finn's voice shook her from her thoughts, "did we need this orange thingy?" Thankfully his voice had returned to its normal deep husky tone after a day or two of bedrest. Though she liked the things he had said while he was exhausted and medicated, it hadn't sounded like him.
"Orange thingy?" Pulling the list from her pocket and pretending to read it, she said, "no, Robert didn't write 'hey make sure you grab an orange thingy' on the list."
Crouched in front of a thicket he turned and gestured with his head for her to look, "come on smartass. I think this is one of the things he wanted." Brushing away tall weeds, he pointed to a patch of tall orange shrub. Though many of them looked withered, their stems were broken and swaying lightly in the breeze, there were still a few brightly colored flower heads looking up at her.
Actually reading the list this time she found their name towards the bottom, Leonotis leonurus (wild dagga)- orange, need a few, whole. "Hey, you were right. We do need a few of these."
"Try not to sound too shocked, I generally am." Promptly tripping over a rock hidden in the underbrush, he acted like nothing happened as he passed her a handful of the orange flowers, but Davina noticed his red ears peeking out under his hat.
"Whatever you say," she smiled, placing the flowers into the bag she had crammed into her pocket.
⟴
She'd never admit it, but Davina had fun with Finn.
They spent a solid hour wandering the edge of the woods in search of other flowers, mushrooms, bark, roots, and leaves. Robert didn't need too many things this time around, but his list was just vague enough for them to spend five to ten minutes questioning if the thing they were looking at was indeed the correct plant. Between one flower not having enough leaves, one having too many, and a debate over which shade of yellow another was, they were only 60% sure they had found everything when they called it a day.
The sun had abandoned them as they finally pushed through the line of trees and found themselves back on the streets of Redwell. With its warmth gone, the streets were deserted besides them and a few of the sellers pushing their carts towards the docks as they headed home for the day. After a few blocks she realized that the flyers strewn around town had been taken down, and now spilled out of garbage bins. When she brought it up to Finn she noticed how quick he was to change the subject and usher her away from the metal bins.
"You really should have worn more layers ya know." When her teeth chattered in between protests that she was fine, he jokingly said "if you're gonna steal my sweaters you might as well wear two of them when you go outside."
That reminded her of his shocked expression at seeing what she wore during their first interaction, "is that my shirt?" She had been wearing one of the large sweaters she'd found in her drawers that day too. "So all of those shirts and sweaters in my room-"
"My old room," he interrupted.
"So they're yours?"
"Well they sure ain't Bobbys. That man wouldn't know fashion if it bit him on the ass." His chuckle grew into an outright laugh when he saw the girl's face switch from apologetic shock to warm amusement as she laughed herself.
"I'm sorry," she sniffed after composing herself and wiping away a tear of laughter. "I didn't know, I can leave them with your stuff in the office."
Pushing the hat farther onto his head with the hand that wasn't holding the bag, he yawned and shook his head casually. "Nah, its alright. Those were either one's I didn't fit anymore or just things that wouldn't fit into my bag. Keep em." He didn't mention that he liked seeing her wear them, and it made him feel warm when he saw her curled up in one while she read her books next to the fire. Nope, he tried not to think about that, or how she beamed up at him with those big eyes of hers and red wind-kissed cheeks, as she thanked him.
Davina practically melted in satisfaction as they climbed the steps and a tendrel of heat welcomed them as they opened the front door. Flinging herself into her chair next to the fire she held out her numb fingers and hummed in glee.
"Christ kid, if you were that cold why didn't you wear a thicker coat?" came Robert's voice as he poked his head out from the kitchen.
Placing the bag onto the dining room table, Finn tisked and said "I told her the same thing. But does she listen? Nope."
"Sush you two, this is a happy moment." Fingers thawed, she kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her coat, thankful for the crackling fireplace and the smell of whatever it was that Robert was cooking. She wanted to bottle up moments like this one and store them in her mind for safekeeping.
Things had never been like this in the community. There was no time to sit in front of a fireplace and warm numb fingers or toes, or banter over dinner. There had just been a series of bells dictating her actions for the day, silence that was only broken during the dark of night as she talked to herself, or when she stole a few minutes to read to Noel. She wondered what the raven was doing now that she was no longer there to feed him extra seeds and tell him stories. Was he even still there? Perhaps Sister Zinnia had taken over for her and fed the few birds that hung around the community grounds.
A slight chill crept into her veins as she thought about the sister. So much reminded her of the only woman who had ever cared for her. Every morning she walked past her portrait and those warm brown eyes she both knew and didn't know so well, and lived as the child she had lost. The glint of silver chain that occasionally peeked out from Robert's collar made her wonder if the sister ever regretted giving away the locket that held the only traces of her old life. She wondered if Robert ever wished that Anne had come back instead of her. He never did anything to make her feel unwanted or like a burden, but a small voice in the back of her mind, the one that sometimes whispered how she ruined everything she touched, made her think about it.
"Hey," the smell of ocean and coffee, "whatcha thinkin' about?" Tearing her eyes from the fire, she took in the sight of Finn's curious face leaning against the chair next to her.
"Hmm?"
"Ya good? You looked a little lost in thought there." She probably had. Though she'd left the walls of her first home and tried not to think of it too often, it still held a certain power over her. If she dwelled on the faces of her sisters an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over her. How could I leave them like that? Should have I told Viola the truth before I left? What will happen to the children? Little Scaevola was only eight. Stars, she couldn't even pronounce Scaevola yet! In six years Sedum and Verbena would be old enough to have ceremonies of their own, and she didn't know how to stop it.
Shaking herself slightly, pushing away the cloud of heavy thoughts, she plastered on the best I'm-totally-okay smile she could. "Yeah, I'm good. What's up?"
Not believing her fake smile for a minute, but not wanting to pry, he let it go. "Bobby said come eat or starve," he chuckled. Only for Robert's shout of "that's not what I said at all you jackass" to come from the kitchen a second later, which got a laugh out of her.
Between Robert wanting to know how the two of them could confuse Boston ivy with poison ivy, and getting to watch Finn squirm while trying not to scratch at the rash Robert had covered in a pink cream, dinner brightened her mood. She went to bed that night with a smile on her face and the dark cloud at bay.
That joy didn't last very long.
⟴
Once again nightmares plagued her.
Maybe she'd be able to get used to the dark tunnels, the rusty chains, and the screaming, she'd been having the same dream for years afterall. It was how they kept changing that terrified her. That night it was the pale, dirt-covered faces of seven children that chased after her. Reaching out to her with broken and stained nails, they pleaded and begged for her help. No matter how hard she pulled at the chains around their little ankles, there was no freeing them. Still, she pulled and pulled until her fingers were raw and her face was slick with tears and snot.
"He's coming!" cried Cleome, her arms clutching onto the dirty robes of Lantana.
Her fingers stilled, "what? Who? Who's coming?" Her mouth asked the questions, but part of her mind already knew the answer, even before she heard the drip drip and saw the swish of a dark cloak coming around the corner.
"He's coming!" she cried again. Davina only had time to look at their terrified faces once more before she took off running down a dark hall. She woke up to their cries still ringing in her ears.
For a while, she simply stared up at the ceiling, wondering if the only time she'd be able to see her family's faces again would be in her dreams. Wanting to purge the images from the back of her eyes and the feeling of dirt that wasn't really there, she decided on a late night shower. Maybe she could boil off the layer of shame while she was at it.
Skin pink and steaming, she curled up in front of her window and stared out at the dark town and docks, wet hair sending occasional drops of cool water down her back. Cracking open the window slightly she was confused when she caught a whiff of something that wasn't the comforting scent of salty air. There was a sweet smokey undertone that reminded her of something Robert called a smore that they ate a few weeks ago. It was an inviting smell, but there was something...wrong with it. Peering into the night she could just make out two clouds of dark smoke slowly floating up from behind a building.
Throwing the window as wide as it could go, distant shouts reached her ears as though echoing her dreams. She stuck her head out of the window and looking around discovered three more plumes of smoke. The smell of something burning coated the air.
Unsure of what to do, Davina closed the window and quietly padded to the room next door. The door groaned softly, the only light came from the soft yellow glow of the street lights below, but she could make out the sleeping form before her. Placing a hand on his shoulder she shook it gently. Nothing. Shaking a little harder she was about to whisper his name before the world went sideways. Her back suddenly pressed against the cold floor she stared wide eyed and open mouthed at the green eyes that hovered over her.
"Lori? What are- what are you doing?" The confusion in his voice was clear, but she focused more on the wary look in his eyes instead of how his hands held her arms down on either side of her shoulders. How he had managed to knock her down, and pin her before she could even say his name was beyond her. "Lori!" he sharply whispered, oh right.
Staring into his cautious eyes she whispered "there's smoke."
That got his attention. "What? In the house?" he sat back on his knees, letting go of her arms and tried to peer down the hallway alarmed. His knees still on either side of her hips she propped herself up on her elbows.
"What-no, outside. There's a lot of smoke outside, I came to tell you about it, ya know before I ended up on the floor."
Seeming to realize the position they were in, he quickly looked down at her before scrambling to stand up and offer her a hand. "Ugh, sorry 'bout that," he muttered as he ran a hand through his spikey hair and looked anywhere but in her direction.
Brushing her hands down the front of her nightgown, she nodded and looked at the floor waiting for the blush to leave her cheeks. "So, ugh, the smoke?" she wasn't really sure what to do now.
"Oh right yeah." Finn silently walked around the large desk Robert had pressed against the far wall, and tried to look out the grimey window before quickly giving up and opening it. I told Robert this room needed a good cleaning.
Seeing the muscles in his back tense slightly she knew he saw the smoke. "That's what I wanted to show you. There's more of them if you look that way," she gestured to the left. When he said nothing she asked, "what do you think is happening?"
He looked down, as if collecting his thoughts, then after a moment turned to face her. Half expecting his voice to have that same hollow and emotionless tone it always did when he was lying, or talking about whatever it was he did at night, she was surprised when he said "I don't know. But nothing good can come from it."