I’m a 30-something licensed massage therapist, who will not apologize for enjoying fanfiction or fan art. Pretty much an open book. Ask me anything. She/her pronouns
Dropped my Fitbit somewhere between my apartment and my car, didn’t notice until I got to work. Now I have to do a couples massage for the sixth time this week. I hate couples massages. And what’s worse, my partner on this one is a coworker I cannot stand. And this is the fifth couples massage I have had to do with her this week. Such an annoying morning. 😤 Counting the hours until I can go home, have a nice shower, and snuggle my kitty.
Important Note! Due to formatting issues when I try to post on Tumblr, I will no longer be posting the whole text of new chapters on this site. Instead, when a new chapter gets posted, I will share the link to said chapter on AO3. I will still tag everyone who wants to be tagged, but it’s just too much to reformat the entire chapter every time. With all that being said...enjoy the last chapter of Book 4, and stay tuned for Book 5!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/14637821/chapters/86722501
Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 56)
Description: The Catalysts attempt to return to their lives as River Skye finally comes home.
tagging: @endlesshero1122 @mysteli @feartheendlesssummer @whatmcsaid @tigerbryn11
Chapter 56: Not Over
Alodia
I almost can’t believe how quickly I start to feel better once the fever breaks. The pain, which had felt like some hellish demon with teeth made of red-hot iron gnawing at my lower back, begins to recede within hours.
“That’s how it tends to go with an infection like this once we find the right antibiotic,” the doctor tells me. “You are fortunate, though. These days, a lot of bacteria have developed resistance to antibiotics. But the infection is responding well to treatment, and all your vitals and your blood work look good. And your daughter appears as healthy as a baby horse. ...I would just like to take a quick look at how you’re healing from the birth if that’s okay.”
I nod, turning onto my back with Jake’s help as the doctor draws the curtain around the bed. Improved as I am, I know I’m not at full strength yet, because moving still hurts. I guess I must have winced, because the doctor raises an eyebrow in concern as she pulls on a pair of gloves.
“You okay there?”
“I think so. Guess I’m still pretty sore.”
“That’s to be expected. You probably won’t feel one-hundred percent for another week or two at least.”
I draw my knees up and part my thighs while the doctor pulls up a stool at the foot of the bed and lifts the blanket. I keep my attention focused on Jake’s face above me and the pressure of his hand on mine as the doctor carries out her checks. Occasionally, I let my eyes wander around to the multiple bouquets and mylar balloons that have built up over the past couple days, gifts from the Catalysts, Tahira’s team, my aunt and uncle, and Jake and Diego’s parents.
“Everything is healing beautifully. Stitches should be dissolved by next week. You’re probably going to be feeling pretty tender for a while though.”
“Yeah, we had the whole tearing conversation with my OB in California some time ago.”
“Good. If you have any pressing questions regarding the birth and recovery, you can of course ask me, or one of the maternity staff. We can also forward your hospital records to your regular OBGYN.”
“How long do you think it will be before we can go home?” Jake asks.
She pulls the blanket back down and stands, peeling off her gloves. “Well, the fact is, we want to get her and your baby out of here ASAP to lower the chances of either of them picking up a secondary infection.” She smiles at me. “Now that the fever’s gone, we’re gonna get you off the drip and onto some oral antibiotics, and we can pretty much start the discharge process immediately.”
“So soon?” My own question surprises me, but it’s out of my mouth before I realize it’s on the end of my tongue.
“Believe me, it’s better we get you both out of here.”
“I know. It’s not that I want to stay here. It’s just...thinking about how we’re going to get home...how soon we can get home…”
“That’s all taken care of, Princess. Aleister is having Castor and Pollux deep cleaned, and he and Grace are gonna put us up for a few days until Mike gets up here from Santo Domingo. Diego and Varyyn are with Estela and Quinn, and your aunt and uncle basically paid for hotel rooms for everyone else.”
His infodump has my head reeling a little, but there was one particular tidbit I find myself fixing on.
“Why is Mike…?” I trail off as realization crashes down on me in an icy wave. A bit of information I had nearly forgotten in my struggle to bring my baby safely into the world while fighting a fever. Jake wasn’t worrying about me for all that time from the safety of our home in California. I don’t know the details, but I have a sinking feeling that has something to do with the reason that Mike isn’t here with us now.
Jake folds my hand between his palms, glancing at the doctor. “Hey...do you have everything you need? I’d like a few minutes alone with my wife, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’ll get the ball rolling on your discharge.”
I wait until I’m sure she’s well clear of the room before I reach to stroke Jake’s cheek. “...I know Lundgren got his filthy hands on you. ...Fiddler told me. ...I’m guessing he got a hold of Mike, too.”
He leans into my touch. “...And Sean and Michelle. Nabbed us all as I was bringing ‘em back from the island.”
“I don’t know if she told me that. That conversation got swallowed up in worrying about you, and then I got sick and River started coming, and…” I swallow, running my thumb along the fuzzy ridge of his cheekbone. “...Did they hurt you? Any of you?”
He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “Knocked us all around a little. Michelle’s the smart one, of course, so she escaped the worst. ...Mike’s in Santo Domingo having his prosthetics repaired. Lundgren ripped them out ot torture him.”
I shudder. “Oh, god...Oh, Jake, I’m sorry...I’m so sorry…”
I’m crying before I realize it. And as soon as I do realize, it turns into sobbing. Jake reaches down to gather me in his arms and cradle my head against his shoulder, rocking me tenderly.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs into my hair. “It’s okay. He’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. In a few days, we’ll be home with our baby.”
“I w-wanna be home,” I hiccup. “I wanna be home with River, but I’m scared of leaving everyone again. I just wanna bring them all home with us…”
“Well, it’s a very big house. ...On the other hand, you cram us all into the same house long term, it might start to feel less big. Plus, it would mean a brutal cross-country commute for some of them.”
I can’t help chuckling a little bit, which makes the sobs start to die down. Jake gives me a moment to get myself under control before he speaks again.
“...How are you feeling, Princess? Really?”
“Physically?” I pull back gently to lie down on the pillow again. “Definitely better. My head is clearer, and I don’t hurt as much. But I’m still worn out. And by the way, you’re gonna have to make due with blow jobs for awhile, because it’s gonna be a long time before you stick that thing in me again, if ever.”
It’s his turn to laugh, and he bends to kiss me. “Princess, I will tug it for the rest of my life as long as you’re still a part of that life.”
“I will be a part of your life as long as the universe allows,” I promise. “...But Jake, we both know this isn’t over.”
He sighs, and I see his forehead crease before he presses it to mine. “I know. I know you’re right. But for River’s sake--and mine--will you let the others take care of that for now? I ain’t saying don’t worry, because I know that’s impossible. But River and I need you healthy. Can you stand to let yourself be looked after for a while?”
I feel a rueful smile tug at one corner of my mouth. “Am I to assume that arguing is pointless?”
A tapping at the open door to the birthing suite distracts Jake from answering. We both look up to find Raj and Diego hovering in the doorway, Raj with a paper bag in his hand, and Diego with his right arm in a soft blue sling. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since River was born, and I sit up a little straighter as he hesitantly steps over the threshold.
“...Are we interrupting?”
The baby has started fussing, and Jake eases off the edge of the bed to go pick her up. I open my arms to Diego. Just before he rushes into them, I see his face twist with anguish. And as he falls against me, his one-armed grip is surprisingly strong.
“Goddammit, Allie,” he whispers quiveringly. “Goddammit…”
“...Did I scare you?”
He pulls back sharply, enough so he can look me in the face, but he keeps a grip on my shoulder. “Did you scare me?! You had me on my knees saying the Ave Maria! Do you know how long it’s been since I said the Ave Maria?!”
There isn’t really a lot I can say to that, but I smile ruefully. “...Thanks for staying with me.”
“What, you thought I’d bail?”
I snort. “God, no. But I can still be grateful.”
“...You’re really okay?”
I nod. “I’m fine. The fever is gone, and the wound doesn’t really hurt anymore. I’m still pretty sore down there, though.”
A smile finally starts to play cautiously around his mouth. “...Well, that part’s Jake’s problem.”
“How about you?” I ask, gingerly touching the strap of his navy blue sling.
“That’s nothing serious. It was dislocated, but they popped it back in. Just got to wear this for a few more days, and take it easy once we get back home. ...Raj brought food, by the way.”
“Oh!” I pull back a little to smile at Raj. “Sorry, big guy. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
Raj chuckles. “We’ll blame it on the new mommy brain and leave it at that. Speaking of which…” He shoos Diego back enough that he can drag my bed table over across my lap, and sets an insulated lunch box on top. “I figured you could do with something better than hospital fruit cups and oatmeal, so I brought you a special Raj lunch. Michelle supervised its creation, and it’s full of stuff that’s supposed to be good for new moms.”
“What is it?”
“So glad you asked!” With a flourish, he opens the bag, and pulls out each item in turn, presenting them like a game show prize lady. “A sandwich of salmon, spinach, and poached egg on whole wheat bread with a garlic white bean spread; in case you are extra hungry, a side of gourmet trail mix made from an assortment of nuts and dried fruit; and to drink, a pineapple-orange-banana smoothie with extra protein powder, and just a few extra leaves of spinach!”
I can’t help but be uplifted by his enthusiasm, and hold out my arms for a hug. “I must be the most spoiled new mother in the world.”
Raj embraces me lightly over the table. “As you should be. You know in some Asian cultures, a new mother spends a whole month resting while her mother-in-law takes care of her and the baby.”
“Oh yeah?” I look at Jake. “Think your mother would spend a month taking care of me?”
“Honestly, I bet she would. The problem would be getting her to ease up and let you start taking care of things after the month was up.”
“Hmm...probably best not to give her ideas then.”
“Probably. We’ll have my folks over in few more months, when we’ve had a chance to get settled.”
“...But…” Raj says, “in the meantime, do you think you guys will be needing any extra help? I know it’s going to be a pretty full house as it is, but Diego’s going to want to take it easy with lifting and stuff for a while, and Michelle says Mike will probably need time to recover, too. If you need a couple extra pairs of hands and someone to do the cooking, I have some downtime, and I know Lila would be happy to come along.”
I look questioningly at Jake, who shrugs. “I don’t have anything against that. It’s a big enough house. And if Varyyn and I are gonna be the only ones at full strength for the time being, I wouldn’t say no to a couple extra pairs of hands.”
“And probably better those hands be Raj and Lila than anyone’s parents,” Diego adds. “I bet Varyyn would prefer not having to wear his disguise twenty-four-seven.”
“Yeah. And,” Jake adds with a sigh, shifting River to rest against his shoulder, “it’s probably preferable not to involve anyone who ain’t already involved in the bigger picture. ...Like you said before, Princess, this ain’t over.”
“But for now, we’re all safe and sound, and Allie has a lunch to eat.” Diego smiles encouragingly as he pushes the tinfoil-wrapped sandwich toward me. “Go on. Dig in.”
Jake
I gotta admit, it does my heart good to see my wife savoring the meal Raj brought her and enjoying our friends’ company. She seems almost back to her old self as she talks and tells jokes and teases with them. Although, as I put River in her arms, I can’t help but be reminded that she’ll never be exactly like her old self again. Not now that she’s a mama. Not like I’m ever gonna be exactly like my old self again either. I’m a daddy now. That’s gonna change me forever. The thought scares me, like it has a lot over the past nine months. But just a look at that precious little face is enough to reassure me that I am never gonna regret it.
Diego and Raj eventually leave us on our own again. After nursing and burping, River sleeps just long enough that we can fill out her birth certificate, nestled side-by-side on the bed. From there, it’s not more than an hour or two before they’re wheeling Alodia toward the hospital exit with River in her arms again while I walk at her shoulder, a baby carrier in the crook of my elbow and my arms laden with flowers and mini mylar balloons. Any staff we happen to pass on the way out smile and wave or give us their congratulations. I have a feeling that in a hospital, any chance to see a patient off happy and healthy is a cause for celebration, and that probably goes double for a new mama leaving with a baby.
Grace is waiting in a car for us at the curb outside the hospital. One of Reggie’s old carseats is in the backseat. Grace settles the baby in the carseat while I help Alodia into the seat beside her.
“There’s a surprise for you guys when we get to our place,” Grace informs us as I circle around the car to get in on the other side of River.
“Nothing too strenuous, I hope,” Alodia quips. “I am not up for a party yet.”
Grace chuckles as she starts up the car. “Oh, believe me, I realize that. No, everyone is pretty sure parties are off the table for you for the time being. ...But you do know that everyone is going to want to see you before you leave, right? You gave us a scare, and no one wants you to go before we all know you’re okay. ...Plus, everyone wants to see River.”
“I am not opposed to visitors,” Alodia assures her. “Just...only a few at a time.”
“Absolutely. We won’t let you get overwhelmed.”
“River, either,” Alodia adds, stroking our sleeping daughter’s downy hair. “Poor thing is probably overwhelmed as it is, suddenly coming into all this noise and color and light.”
“Birth is the craziest thing that ever happens to us, and none of us remember it,” I remark, letting the blade of my forefinger run gently back and forth across the soft back of River’s tiny hand. Her little fingers twitch just slightly, and the base of her pacifier rocks back and forth across her lips, but she doesn’t wake up. I don’t expect the quiet will last.
River does sleep throughout the half hour or so it takes to drive to Aleister and Grace’s luxury Northbridge apartment. As we pull up to the curb, I realize what our surprise is.
“Mike!”
I must have been a little louder than I thought, because River wakes up with a cry that can only be described as irritated, but it doesn’t fully register until I have already launched myself out of the car towards Mike. He’s balancing on a walker, so I at least have the good sense not to jostle him, but I can’t hold myself back from grasping him firmly by the shoulders. He grins, carefully removing his hands from the walker one at a time to grasp me back.
“Good to see ya, Grandpa.”
“Shit, you too! We weren’t expecting you for another couple days! How are you feeling?”
“Well, as you can tell,” he says, nodding at the walker, “I’m not quite ready to run a marathon yet. But my new legs are healing up nice. ...Good to see you, Goldilocks.”
His gaze shifts over my shoulder, and I turn to look back at my wife supporting herself on Aleister’s arm while Grace bounces River in her arms. Alodia smirks at me, her eyes twinkling mischievously.
“I feel like I should make a joke about you abandoning your wife and child in the car to go hang out with your buddy,” she drawls.
I grin sheepishly as Mike carefully returns his grip to the walker. “Sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.”
I lunge and sweep her up bridal style, and I have the pleasure of feeling her arms twine around my neck.
“Mmm, much better. However, unlike your daughter, I am actually capable of walking.”
“But you don’t have to. Not right now, anyway.” But I do return her to her feet after capturing her mouth in a kiss. I don’t entirely take my hands off her yet, though. After her ordeal, I don’t think she’s really that much steadier than Mike right now. Her grip as she slips her arm through mine confirms my concerns.
I’m standing between my wife and my best friend, and neither of them are fully able to stand under their own power. I’m starting to feel that much more grateful to Raj for volunteering to help us out for a while.
I think Mike notices Alodia’s weakness, too, because his forehead creases just a little. “You all right, Goldilocks? From what I hear, you gave everyone a real scare.”
“It was pretty scary on my end, too. But I’m fine now. How about you?”
Mike shrugs. “Ahh, you know. A few weeks of rehab, I’ll be a six-million dollar man again. In the meantime,” he adds wryly, stroking the frame of his walker, “it’ll be hard to call Jake ‘Grandpa’ when I’m dottering around on this thing.”
“You just called me ‘Grandpa’ two minutes ago.”
“And I cannot tell you how hard I internally cringed. Seriously, if you could have seen my internal expression, you’d have thought I was sucking lemons.”
I am morally obligated to reach out and swat him for that, but before I can, Alodia abruptly steps forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders. It’s an awkward embrace, encumbered by the walker and both of them still being weak, but it’s a sincere one, and Mike leans into it gratefully.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Alodia murmurs.
“You too,” Mike says softly, reaching up to pat her shoulder with one hand. “But can we go inside? I wanna properly meet that baby you’ve been carrying around for the past nine months!”
***
The Catalysts come by in shifts throughout the afternoon and evening, apparently having planned it all out beforehand. No one stays more than an hour at a time, which proves to be a good thing, since Alodia is clearly worn out by about eight in the evening. We’re set up in the guest room of the Rourke apartment, with River in a bassinet beside us, and Mike on the foldaway bed in the living room.
Alodia nurses River and rocks her to sleep before lying down herself. At first, I curl up beside Alodia in bed. She’s asleep within minutes, but I’m not as quick. And after an hour, it’s pretty clear that I’m not on my way to dreamland any time soon. I don’t want to leave Alodia or River. I never want to leave Alodia’s side again. But I’m restless. Anxious. And eventually, the desire not to disturb what precious little sleep my wife might have before our daughter wakes her up again wins out over my irrational need to pace back and forth between them. I check the windows, making sure they’re locked, then I slip out of the room as quietly as I can, heading back out into the living room.
I find Mike, Aleister, and Grace all seated in the living room. On the coffee table are four short, round glasses and a bottle of golden red liquid that I’m guessing is some kind of whiskey.
“We were starting to wonder if you had also fallen asleep,” Aleister says. He gestures to the glasses. “We thought you might like to wet your baby’s head.”
“Kind of a weird expression,” I remark. Nonetheless, I pick up the bottle and take a seat in an armchair to read the label. “Ooh, Irish Mist. Fancy.”
“It is not every day that one becomes a father. The night Reginald was born, Diego, Varyyn, and I toasted his birth with Irish Mist.”
I crack open the bottle, and lean forward to fill each of the four glasses about halfway. I set down the bottle and raise my glass, the others following suit.
“To River Skye McKenzie, my beautiful angel. And to her mother, my better half, who is truly the best and bravest of us.”
“Here, here!” Grace says. We clink glasses, and I take a long, deep drink, savoring the sweet notes of honey and spices riding atop the alcoholic burn of whiskey. I return my glass to the table empty and lean back in my chair.
“When my sister and I both were born, my grandpa had my dad and the men of the neighborhood over to smoke cigars on the porch.” I chuckle a little. “Rebecca remembers helping our grandma in the kitchen, and seeing all the men outside smoking. She says what she remembers most about the day I was born was our dad coming in from outside to give her a hug, but she pushed him away and said, ‘No, Daddy! You stink!’”
My story prompts the expected laughter.
“I am afraid Irish Mist will have to do tonight,” Aleister says. “I did not think to buy cigars. Nor would I know enough to ensure I was purchasing a quality product. As I understand it, Cuban cigars are the best, but those are illegal.”
Mike shudders. “Honestly, I think the smell of a Cuban would be enough to give me flashbacks. Lundgren used to smoke contraband Cubans.”
“Same here,” I agree. “I mean...there was that one time…”
“...That one time what?”
I chuckle a little, rubbing the back of my head. “Okay, no one currently in this room was there when Zahra blew up MASADA…”
“What’s that got to do with Cuban cigars?”
I sigh, but in spite of myself, in spite of how literally everyone else in the room with me was in some kind of bad situation at the time, I feel a smile playing around my mouth at the memory.
“Okay, so it’s me, Alodia, Sean, Quinn, Estela, Craig, and Zahra trying to find another way out of the complex after the gondola gets severed, and when we go through a control room, Zahra gets the idea to blow the whole thing up. We figure it’s worth the couple extra minutes, so we let her do it. And while she’s rigging the system, I find one of Lundgren’s Cubans somewhere on the floor. ...And I light it up. But only to spite the bastard.”
“But did you enjoy it?” Mike asks.
“Hell, yeah! The hype ain’t a lie, buddy. Not saying I’d do it again unless it were one of his personal stash, but that was a real good smoke. ...Still...it wouldn’t be right to celebrate River with Cuban cigars. Lundgren and Rourke did enough to taint her birth.”
“Nothing has been tainted,” Grace says firmly. “She and Alodia both came through it well and healthy.”
“I ain’t losing sight of what’s important,” I assure her. “But I can’t let my guard down, either. ...We all know this ain’t over.”
Grace sighs. “...No, you’re right. It isn’t over. ...Which means...I should probably tell you what I learned in Ireland.”
Diego
I knew that the Catalysts wouldn’t have sat on their hands while any of their own were in danger, but I am surprised to learn just how busy they were during the time that Allie and I were in Arachnid’s claws. I’m even more surprised--and frankly unsettled--by some of the things they learned. Yvonne might be alive. Lundgren flew the same plane that killed Allie’s parents, even though the twisted wreckage of that plane is the property of the NTSB. The whole mess with Allie’s mom, that weird AI message from a program made by Allie’s mom. It all leaves us with a lot more questions than answers.
I told the police everything I felt like I could safely tell them. I went so far as to tell them that I think Everett Rourke might be alive because that’s who our kidnappers claimed they were taking us to. I don’t know if they believed me. I don’t know if the future of the Vaanti is safe. A part of me hopes that they lose interest in the case since everyone who was abducted has been recovered safely. But I also know that none of us are really safe until Rourke is either back behind bars or dead.
Aleister and Estela make all the travel arrangements for those of us going back to California, including my folks and Allie’s. Castor carries me, Allie, Jake, Varyyn, Mike, Raj, Lila, Rebecca, and River. For once, Jake and Mike aren’t going to be flying. Pollux is taking our families. A third plane, smaller but no less luxurious, takes Jake’s parents back to Louisiana. They’re reluctant to leave him. They don’t want to be apart from their son, or their daughter, or their granddaughter. He assures them they can come visit soon, but that their daughter-in-law needs some time to recover first.
At the airport, Allie’s aunt and uncle hesitate to part from her on the tarmac. Allie stands with River in her arms, patiently enduring as Molly smoothes her hair and kisses her forehead, asking if she’s sure Allie doesn’t want her and Rob to wait at the airport in California to drive her home. When Allie insists she’s sure; that Molly and Rob should go ahead and get home so they can rest. Rob says they’ll make sure there are cars waiting for us to take us all back to the house in Laguna.
My parents board the plane before I arrive at the airport. On board the plane, I nestle up with Varyyn on one of the double-width leather seats. I wind my arms around him and bury my face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He kisses the top of my head.
“Are you alright, my love?” he murmurs.
“...I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’m just...disappointed. I knew my parents weren’t ready to meet you. But I had hoped...I don’t know. I had hoped it wouldn’t be like this. Even if I knew it probably would be.”
Varyyn sighs, bringing a hand up to stroke my cheek. “They may yet come around. Or they may not. In the end, it is up to them. All I can promise is that I will love you regardless of their decision.”
“...I love you, too.”
“You guys all set?” Raj’s voice makes me look up. The others are boarding behind us and finding their seats. Jake helps Allie settle in and get her seatbelt on, River still cradled in her arms.
“Are you sure a plane is really the best way to travel with a newborn?” Lila asks.
“When the choices are between a rental car, a train, or a private plane for a cross-country trip, a private plane is hands down the best option,” Rebecca declares. “I mean, if we were on a commercial plane, I’d think twice, since those things are basically flying petri dishes. But this plane has been deep-cleaned, unlike the train. It’s more comfortable than a car, and faster than both the car or the train.”
“Yeah, but what about her little ears? All the pressure?”
“The doctor says that if I nurse her during take-off and landing, that should keep her comfortable. Besides...I just want to be home.”
Home. The word washes through me in a way that comforts me even as it makes me want to cry. Images flash through my mind of the house I share with my husband, my best friend, her husband, and his best friend--and now, my little niece and goddaughter. Watching movies in the living room with Allie. Sharing dinner around the table or out on the balcony. Cuddling with Varyyn in the hot tub in the evening, letting the warm, swirling water sap the energy from my body, and then sliding into bed beside him and drifting off to sleep in his arms. At home, I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to walk on eggshells or worry about losing anyone’s love. At home, I’m safe and free. I meet my best friend’s eyes, offering her a tired smile.
“I’m with you, Allie. Let’s get home.”
Raj
Nothing but the best for my friends, that’s my motto. I came to the house in Laguna Beach to make sure that my friends would have the best care while they needed it, and I waste no time in getting down to business. Alodia, Diego, and Mike need space to convalesce. But with a new baby in a huge house like this, there is a lot to be done. Jake and Varyyn can’t be expected to do everything, and that’s where I and Lila come in.
River is constantly monitored. Whenever she cries, someone is ready to come running to change her diaper, or to bring her to Alodia for feeding. I prepare meals ahead of time that can be easily heated and served, so no one goes hungry. Lila helps me cook and keep the house clean. Alodia’s aunt and uncle attempt to send cleaning and catering services to her at one point, but they end up being politely refused. Lila and I have everything under control, and none of us want strangers poking around here.
Alodia is occasionally moody, snapping at everyone to stop fussing over her, and she can’t wait to be free of this gilded cage and go back out into the world. This is usually followed by tearful apologies, with all of us assuring her that we don’t take it personally. She just had a baby, she’s allowed to be moody. Besides, the moment someone places River in her arms, it seems like everything is right in her world, and everything is right in our world, too.
...Except it’s not. Not entirely.
River is happy and healthy. Alodia is getting her strength back. Diego gets rid of the sling, and Mike starts to get around without the walker again. But underneath the surface, there is still trauma. There’s still fear.
“They’re having nightmares,” I tell Lila one morning as we’re preparing breakfast. She pauses for a moment with a knife poised above an orange before swiftly slicing it in half.
“Is that so surprising?” she asks. She doesn’t look at me as she speaks, but concentrates on making sure the thick, white heart of the orange half in her hand is positioned properly on the cone of the juicer before she presses down and begins to twist. Bright yellow juice splashes down into the container below.
“Well, no. But it is sad. Jake and Alodia especially should be concentrating on enjoying their new baby, not having nightmares and worrying about whether Rourke’s coming back for them.”
Lila pulls the now-deflated orange rind off the cone of the juicer and tosses it on the countertop. Ribbons of tattered orange flesh cling to the inside of the rind. She picks up the other half.
“...Do you ever have nightmares from Mr. Rourke?” she asks softly.
“Of course,” I reply. “Not as much as before, but I think we all have them sometimes. After what we all went through, I think I’d be more surprised if any of us didn’t.”
The twisting of the orange on the juicer slows just slightly. The toaster pops behind me, and I pluck four pieces of perfectly browned bread from the slots to toss onto a plate.
“...I have nightmares, too.”
The butter has been softening on the counter, and my knife slides easily through it. The heat from the toast softens it further, and it spreads cleanly.
“...You want to talk about it?”
Lila shakes her head, picking up her knife and another orange. “No. Not now. They don’t really matter anyway. They’re about things that happened in the past. I’m less scared of them than I am of what happens in the future.”
“Do you mean Rourke’s next move?”
“Of course that scares me. ...But more than that, I’m scared of him trying to use me against all of you again.”
“We won’t let that happen, Lila. You’re safe with us.”
“...But are you safe with me?”
I pause a moment before putting down my knife. I turn to Lila, put one hand on each of her shoulders, and turn her toward me.
“Lila...look at me. ...Has Rourke approached you at all since you’ve been with us again?”
Her eyes widen in what looks like genuine surprise. “What? No, I...that isn’t what I meant!”
I relax just a little. “...Okay.” I slowly take my hands away from her shoulders. “...You’d tell me if he had, wouldn’t you?”
She nods. “Of course.”
“Good. ...Because if he approaches you again, we can help you. We can help keep you out from under his thumb. ...We’re not gonna let him just have you back.”
A weak smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “I believe you.” She hastily turns back to the oranges in front of her. “You should...um...finish buttering before the toast gets cold.”
Overhead, the sharp, piercing cry of an infant rings through the air. I smile. Another morning blending into another day. It’s not perfect. We’ve got reason to worry. But for now, all is well.
Diego
I keep my head down as I move through the halls of my high school, clutching the straps of my worn-out backpack. It’s the same shabby gray one I’ve been carrying since freshman year. I’m a junior now, and the corners near the bottom are starting to fray where the sharp corners of paper-bag covered textbooks have dug into them.
My stomach growls. I skipped lunch again today. My parents were gone to work early again, and I didn’t leave myself enough time to make myself anything this morning. I barely had time to scarf down a banana for breakfast. I didn’t have enough cash for a cafeteria lunch, either, and besides, I preferred spending my lunch period playing on the computer in the library to sitting by myself at the end of a table filled with noisy strangers anyway.
If I can scrape together enough change from the bottom of my pencil case, I might have enough to get a bag of chips from the vending machine before I have to go to my after school job. But for now, my hunger isn’t all that sharp, and I am heading towards English Lit, the only class I currently look forward to.
The class is taught by Mr. Hunter. He also teaches the film-making class I want to sign up for next semester. He’s in his early fifties, and not handsome. He is tall and lanky, with gray-green eyes and a dark helmet of slicked back hair that sits atop a rectangular face. He has one of those mustaches that seemed to be popular in the 1970’s that always make a man look a little sketchy. He wears paisley shirts and slacks, and his voice reminds me of Bert from Sesame Street.
Mr. Hunter is the best teacher I’ve ever had at this school. When we studied Romeo and Juliet, he started off by giving us all a printed-off list of Shakespearean insults. When one girl tried to mumble her way through a line-reading, he shouted, “Put some feeling into it, you saucy wench!”
Mr. Hunter is also gay, and he does not attempt to hide this. When my parents ask about my teachers and which ones I like best, I leave this fact out. If they knew, they would make me switch to another class. Mr. Hunter has a picture of himself with his boyfriend on his desk. I’ve seen it when I’ve gone up to hand in assignments. His partner is bald and ruddy-skinned. He’s not handsome, either, but he has an open, friendly smile. Sometimes, I imagine them kissing. I worry that I have a crush on Mr. Hunter.
On the post of every classroom door is a laminated pink triangle, with a message proclaiming that this is a safe space for LGBTQ students. These triangles are mandated by the school district. Not every teacher honors them. One teacher actually tore hers down and refused to put it back up. She was fired. Last year, two girls were voted “Cutest Couple” in their senior class. I look at the triangles, prominently displayed as I walk into each classroom, and I don’t feel particularly safe. I feel safe in Mr. Hunter’s classroom.
Inside Mr. Hunter’s classroom, two boys from the football team act out a love poem with one of them in a curly blond wig and the bottom of his shirt tucked into his collar to create a crop top. They end with a flourish, with the boy in the wig jumping into the other boy’s arms and goosing him. Everyone applauds their performance, including Mr. Hunter.
Outside Mr. Hunter’s classroom, guys of all stripes growl “faggot” in my direction, and even the girls who are nice to me seem pitying more than anything. There’s a Pride club that meets after school two days a week, but I don’t dare join. I’m slowly realizing I can’t deny the truth anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can just announce it to the world.
I have just enough change to buy a bag of chips after school. I put it in my backpack as I make my way toward the library where I work for a few hours each day. I see Sam Dzugan eyeing me as I pass through the main doors to the school, and feel dread so familiar that it’s almost dull. Of all the bullies at this school, Sam is the worst. He also knows where I work. If he’s bored and hungry for a power fix tonight, I’m in for a rough walk home.
But he doesn’t follow me to work. At the library, I set to work filing back the books from the return cart. As I do, my mind wanders to the same place it always does: Alodia.
Alodia. My ideal friend. I conjure up an image of her beside me. She would be pretty, like all the most popular girls at school. I summon a small, pale figure with blonde hair, big blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. I talk with her in my head as I wander the aisles of the library with the return cart. I can picture her cheeky smile as clearly as if she were really beside me. I have spent many years getting the details of her perfect. Early incarnations of her were dark-haired. Green-eyed. Taller. I drew pictures of her. I wrote down her description in a private notebook that I kept under my mattress. But she never felt as real as when I wrote her with golden blonde hair and sapphire eyes.
She laughs at all my jokes as I work the rest of my shift. I forgot to eat the chips I bought, and I’m hungry enough now to start feeling dizzy. ...Alodia would invite me to dinner at her house. A huge, fancy house with a pool, where a chef would have prepared a gourmet meal.
“Don’t worry about Sam,” she would say. “If he gives you any trouble, I’ll fight him off.” ...Because Alodia would be fierce. A fighter. Alodia was a hero. A hero who loved me unconditionally.
Alodia was never meant to be my lover. I wasn’t looking for a lover when I first dreamed Alodia into existence, which is probably why I always imagined her as a girl. I could scarcely imagine having a lover before I had a friend. That was what Alodia was to me. A friend. A friend who would always love me. A friend who I could tell my secrets to without judgment. A friend to fight for me and protect me, who saw value in me, and needed me back.
But my friend is a fantasy. And when I leave work and Sam corners me in the encroaching darkness, Alodia vanishes…
...I wake up with a gasp, bolting upright in the darkness of my room. Beside me, Varyyn grunts in his sleep and rolls over, the moonlight reflecting off his blue skin. I stare at his sleeping form for a moment, trying to take stock of myself. I’m shaking. My pajamas are damp with sweat. I feel cold. I feel sick and empty with fear. I don’t exactly remember what I was dreaming about, but one thought keeps echoing in my mind: Allie. I have to find Allie.
I slip out of bed as gently as I can while I’m still trembling. I don’t want to wake Varyyn. As I slip into the hall, motion-sensitive lights plugged into the sockets near the floor illuminate my path. My dream is still hazy, but bits and pieces trickle back as I shuffle down the hall with my hand on the wall. I was alone. Allie didn’t exist. It was a timeline that I have all but forgotten, and it felt entirely too real.
I need to find her. Or at least evidence that she still exists. The door to the nursery is slightly ajar, enough that I can see the soft glow from the lamp on the bedside table. I peek through the crack in the door and relief floods through me. Allie, bundled up in her robe and slippers, sits in the rocking chair with River in her arms, gently rocking back and forth. I exhale slowly. I should go back to bed, but I am not ready to let her out of my sight yet. I start to push open the door. She gasps a little, looking up sharply.
“Oh, Diego!” She smiles at me, settling back into her chair. “You startled me.”
“Sorry,” I whisper back. “...Did I wake up River?”
“No. I just fed her, so she’ll probably be out for an hour or two.” She looks up at me as I come to settle into the armchair across from her. “...What are you doing up?”
“...Bad dream,” I admit. “...About...about you. I had to come check on you or I was never going to get back to sleep.”
I half-expect her to joke about me being a creeper watching her while she sleeps, but instead she sighs. “...I kinda know the feeling.”
“Yeah. I bet you do.”
“You wanna stay up with me for awhile?”
“Yeah. But I feel like I should be telling you to get some sleep while you can.”
“I probably should be sleeping,” she admits. “...But I don’t really want to let her go.”
There’s not really much I feel like I need to say to that. I understand. I don’t think there’s anyone in this house who doesn’t empathize with that feeling in one way or another. Especially now.
“...Diego…?”
“Yeah, Allie?”
For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, though her mouth opens and closes a couple times. Then, she swallows and takes a deep breath.
“...I love you. I love you, and I love Jake, and Raj, and all the Catalysts…”
“We love you, too, Allie.”
“...When you imagined me. In that other timeline. When I didn’t come to be until the Island...did you ever imagine my future?”
I can’t help flinching. Her words feel like a cold pinprick at the top of my spine. “...Allie...I...I don’t really remember that timeline…”
“I know. I know. But...it happened. It existed. I was once born to be what you needed. What all the Catalysts needed. ...But now...now I have River. Someone new who needs me. She needs me more than any of my Catalysts.”
“I...I think that’s true,” I say slowly. “...We all love you, and we want you with us. But River is your child. She’s helpless and new. She needs your love and your care and your guidance to survive.”
“...I’m scared, Diego. I’m scared by how much I love her. I’m scared by how much she needs me.”
My earlier fear is being replaced with concern that is entirely for my friend. “...Allie...are you okay? Is this some kind of postpartum depression?”
“I don’t know what this is, Diego. I know that I love River more than I ever thought I could love anyone alive. I would have torn myself apart for my Catalysts without hesitation. I gave up my existence to give my Catalysts the world. ...But I can’t consider that anymore. Because River needs her mother.”
“Oh, Allie. That’s not a bad thing. None of us want you to tear yourself apart.”
“I know. ...But I am afraid of what happens if the world asks for it. ...If I end up at the Threshold again, or a new Raan’losti…” She looks up at me. “...Diego...I think I have to face what’s in the pool shed.”
I feel my blood run cold. I know what’s in the pool shed. The collection of objects that were left for us in the Crystal dimension when we went to rescue Tahira. Including…
“...Are you sure?”
She nods. “...It was left for me to find for a reason. I have to touch the Andromeda idol again.”
tagged by @goldlacestars thank youuu! these are so much fun
i would like to note that my hair is not really either of these colors, it’s more in the middle but it is definitely darker now than it was in middle school
use this link to make your own!
tagging: @yuniixoxo @1dsoul1 @fxckthe-noise @kissmelikeyou-wannabelove and anyone else who wants to do it (yes that means you!)
Tagging: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @captainrexisboo @lizzyolanda1966 @thegoodbatch @icanbringyouincold @alderaani @simping-for-fives @leias-left-hair-bun and anyone else who wants to do it!
I’ve changed a lot 😅 but honestly, I hated my life before now…I was a nervous and anxious mess for years, but after being stuck in lockdown, I was actually able to take time for myself and sort out my life (and discover my love for star wars again 😆). It made me realise how much school had gotten in the way of me mentally healing.
One year later…
I was never out about being bisexual, but I’m happy that I am. And yeah, I have more freckles, so 😆 the highlights are exactly the right colour too, which is awesome!!
No pressure tags! @writer1 @majorshiraharu @spicy-wars @snippy-tano @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @captainrexisboo and anyone else who’d like to join in!!
I’ve always looked at my time in middle school as like the dark ages and as something super embarrassing. And yeah I was sooooo cringy but like that’s entirely the point of middle school and without that version of me, I wouldn’t be me now.
but I’m off my soapbox, thank you @ahsokatano-thetogruta !!
MS me
And me now!
no pressure tags! @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @innocent-until-proven-geeky @ceapa-mica @mandaloriandin @morganas-pendragons and anyone else who wants to do this adorable trend!!
my personal style has evolved very slowly over the years so while I look dramatically different I also totally don’t
middle school:
now:
(nobody cares but I wanna mention anyways, the glasses aren’t a style choice so much as they are a migraine thing and if I’m given the option I like to include them)
anybody who wants to can do this but I really wanna see @fallenrepublick
Current me: hates everything but now am living my best pan/nb life
—
Tagging:
@venomous-ko @a-dorin @savagesbonergarage @fettupwithyou @queenevac @starryjediknight @r2d2-bih @pirate-king-hondo @danger-xylophones @penguinkiwi @endlesshero1122 and anyone who sees this post!
Middle school me (on top) vs me now. More than 30 years with the same basic aesthetic. 😅 Just more makeup these days, and contacts instead of glasses. Also, though you can’t see it in this pic, it’s yoga pants instead of jeans now.
I felt the static creeping in at the edges of my vision even as I heard the voices around me telling me to push. Michelle. Jake. A thousand ageless, sexless voices belonging to the generations of ghosts manifesting around me. Push. Find a breath somewhere in the suffocating fog, gather together the seeds of strength scattered across a barren landscape and plant them in my core, let my tears be rain to nourish the soil, and push against the determined life tearing me apart in her effort to be free. Then I feel her slip free, and her piercing shriek is like music. She is alive. Unto the world, I delivered the fruit of my womb, and she is free of my body. And when the fog envelops me, I don’t fight it anymore. I’ve earned my rest.
I can feel myself sinking. I can also feel myself buoyed out of freefall by countless arms that ease me gently to the ground.
...Alodia...my daughter…
Vaanu? Father? Is that you?
“Hey. heyheyheyheyhey…” Jake’s fierce whisper close to my face, the repeated syllable sending puffs of warm air over my skin. “Stay with me, Princess.”
Aren’t I here? Aren’t I here with him? Where am I? Where am I going? Sudden awareness of a chill at the back of my neck brings the world sharply into focus. Jake at my head, hunched over me. Estela cradling my feet on her lap. And Michelle beside me, a towel in her hands rubbing down the small, warm body on my chest.
“You’re doing so well, Alodia,” she tells me. “The hardest part is over, but you’re not quite done yet. Placenta should deliver in a few minutes. ...Are you okay if I leave you for a minute to check on Diego?”
“...Diego…? Is he…?”
“He’s injured his shoulder. I’ll take care of him until help arrives. Iris, monitor Alodia and the baby. Keep checking their vitals and sound the alarm if there’s any change.” I am aware of her placing my arms around the body on my chest. “...You hang onto your baby, Alodia.”
...My baby...my daughter…
...My daughter…
Oh, no...please, no...please, leave me alone… Drawing breath feels like trying to suck up ice-cream through a straw. I open my mouth, forcing out a word in a weak exhale.
“...Jake…”
“I’m here. I’m right here. I’m right here with you.”
His face is dim and fuzzy above me. But behind him, my father’s ghostly form is bright.
“Alodia. My sweet child…”
No! Jake, don’t leave me! Don’t let me go!
You’re not going anywhere, Princess! I won’t let you!
I’m sinking...
Caleb
I didn’t bother explaining to Ysa what was going on in that house. When we met up with her cousins and brothers, I only assured them that Dragonness and her people were taking care of it, and told them we were getting out of here. They didn’t protest. I don’t know if it’s because they agreed with me, or because they just saw there was no arguing with me, or because they were finally satisfied, or they were just cold and worn out and wanted to be back in the warm van. Unfortunately, when we reach the van, there’s one more obstacle to get past.
“Hi, Dragonness!” RJ calls cheerfully to the masked superhuman leaning casually against the van door. Her hands are folded low in front of her, one ankle crossed over the other. In anyone else, the pose would be non-threatening. But Dragonness isn’t anyone else. I’m pretty confident she doesn’t want to hurt me, but she can definitely keep me from leaving with minimal effort.
“...Thought you were back at the squat,” I say carefully. “...Those people need help.”
“The situation is under control.”
“Is everyone okay who we want to be okay?”
“...I don’t know yet. What I do know is that if you hadn’t have shown up when you did, the situation could have been a lot worse.”
“Didn’t seem like you were that far behind me.”
“In a situation like that, every second counts. ...You know who those people are to me.”
“Yeah. Kind of. I’m pretty sure I picked up the basics.” I pause for a second, trying to get a measure of her intentions. “...Listen, Dragonness...the kids are tired and cold. I’d like to find someplace to put ‘em up for the night, maybe get ‘em something to eat.”
“Let me level with you, Caleb. The authorities are going to be all over this whole thing, and I don’t see a way to keep your name out of it. Me and mine might lie, but I’m willing to bet your...former associates aren’t going to be so accommodating.”
“...So say you lost track of me.”
“I intend to. ...But I don’t want it to be true.”
“Pretty much a given now. Considering you could hold me here with your little finger, it’s really up to you to either let me go or turn me in.”
“...Or I take a third option.”
“What kind of third option?”
She takes a step away from the van. “...You trusted me before, Caleb. I am hoping you will trust me again. I don’t know what will happen in the morning. But I do know somewhere you and the kids can be safe for the night.”
Alodia
Consciousness comes in waves. Between the moments of lucidity there is darkness and silence, but it isn’t sleep. It’s like being shut up in a windowless room. I feel afraid in a distant sort of way. But I am also tired down to the marrow of my bones. Anxiety spikes in consciousness and bleeds out with the tide, leaving exhaustion in its wake. There’s a voice, calm and confident, and commanding my attention.
“My name is Ryan. I’m an EMT, and I’m here to help. Can you tell me your name?”
I hear myself answer, “Alodia…”
“Do you know where you are?”
“...There was a house...it was empty...we hid…”
The warmth on my chest had sunk beneath the threshold of my perception, but its sudden absence is jarring. I hear a tiny whimper and icy fear grips me.
River…
“It’s okay, Princess. She’s here. They’re just keeping her warm.” A painfully bright flash makes my eyes water. I try to close my eyes, but they’re being held open. I push at the hand on my forehead.
“You’re doing really well, Alodia. Can you tell me how you got hurt?”
I fell...I slipped in the dark and I fell down a hill…
I’ve slipped under water. The rushing sound fills my ears and drowns out the voices. I’m in the darkness again. Bone tired and riding a gentle current. Then, flashes of sound and color. Flickering red light. Pressure on my hand.
“...born 42 minutes ago, full term…”
Pain, just a nagging sensation in the background a moment ago, rapidly floods my senses, and I choke on a cry.
“I gotcha, Princess. Just stay with me. I’m right here.”
“Placenta delivered twenty-three minutes ago, apparently complete...laceration on the lower back showing signs of infection…”
I try to roll away from the pain, into the dark and silent waters. But I’m not alone there anymore.
“Alodia,” my father says softly.
No. I can’t go with him. I have to stay with Jake.
“...Fever is 104°...Let’s get a saline drip going. TKO.”
“It’s okay, Alodia.” My father is no longer the ghost I knew on the island. His face is human, the way it was when I saw him in a vision months ago, before I even knew I was pregnant. The fear that grips me at the sight of his face is colder and more visceral than anything I think I have felt before.
No...please. Please don’t take me. Don’t take me back…
“I will not take you back. I don’t have that power. But nor do I have the power to save you. Not on my own. But I may be able to help, if you allow me.” His hands seem to enfold mine. “Trust me, daughter. Please. You must trust me.”
Trust him. As if I have a choice in the matter. I’m terrified and exhausted. Too exhausted to fight. I want to go home. I want to be gathered up and sheltered in a loving embrace. I remember the warmth of Ramona Soto’s arms around me when I was a child, tainted by the distance that formed between us when she turned her back on her son. Sometimes Aunt Molly was tender, too. But she isn’t who my heart aches for now. There’s a word forming in my mind as I look up at the strange face of the long-dead man hovering over me in the darkness. It’s a word that was never mine. But I want to surrender to it. I want to wrap myself up in the word and all the tender love that comes with it.
...Dad...Daddy...I’m scared...
Michelle
Our traveling party has been significantly reduced from when we arrived at the abandoned house, but we still have two rented vehicles that need to be taken back to Northbridge. Sean and I take one, while Estela and Rebecca take the other. We should probably be going home to get some sleep. I think that’s where Estela is going once she drops Rebecca off at the hospital. Back to Quinn, back to her brother and the other Catalysts, back to get everyone up to speed and wait for any more news. No doubt they’ll all be at the hospital at some point in the morning. But I can’t go home just yet. Even if I technically can’t help in any way, I have to be at the hospital with my friends. I don’t even need to ask if Sean feels the same. When I ask him if we should go straight to the hospital, I know the answer even before he nods grimly.
We’re silent as he drives, though he does periodically reach over without taking his eyes off the road to put his hand over mine on the armrest between us. I don’t mind. I’m stewing in the knowledge that Jake--and the rest of us--could easily lose Alodia in the next few days. I find it hard to object to my husband reminding me that he’s alive beside me.
I don’t really notice that he’s slowed down until he pulls over and stops on the shoulder of the road.
“Sean? What’s wrong?” I glance at the dashboard, trying to discern if there’s a mechanical problem. Sean hesitates for a moment before spreading his fingers and pressing his palms into the steering wheel.
“Look...feel free to tell me to piss off and keep driving, but...I would really like to kiss you right now.”
Worried and exhausted as I am, I can’t hold back a smile. “I wouldn’t mind a kiss right about now.”
We lean in and he takes my face in his hands as our mouths meet. I am a little surprised at how gentle he is being. I remember the way he kissed me for days after the showdown between Dragonness and Prescott, the fierce need in the way he pressed his mouth to mine. This is different. This is...more like the way he kissed me on our wedding day, just a few weeks ago. Tender. Loving. A kiss that makes me feel like we’re the only two people in the world.
“You’re kissing me like you love me,” I murmur.
“I do. I adore you. I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now.”
“What makes you say that?”
He touches his forehead to mine. “...What I saw you do back there in that house…”
“Aww. Did seeing me delivering a baby make you sentimental?”
“Yeah. But it wasn’t just that. Alodia was sick. Diego was hurt. Alodia was having a baby. You were the only doctor there. But you were calm. You got help where you needed it. You made calm out of chaos.”
“...That’s my job, Sean. I’m a doctor. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared.”
“I know all that. Doesn’t make it less impressive. ...You’re a great doctor, Michelle. And hell, I’ll just say it: you’re my hero.”
I can’t help myself. I grin as I kiss him again. “You know, the only reason I’m not laughing at your corniness is because I know you mean it. Which just makes you more adorable.”
He keeps my face in his hands as he nuzzles my forehead with his. “...Do...do you think they’ll be okay?”
I swallow a bitter taste at the back of my throat. “...Diego should be fine, I think. The baby seems healthy. ...Alodia...it’s a little more uncertain.” I take his hands in mine, pulling back to meet his eyes in the light from the dashboard. “It will depend on how much the infection has spread, if it’s damaged any internal organs...whether there are any post-partum complications…”
He nods, squeezing my hands. “...I...guess we should get to the hospital. Be there for them.”
“Yeah…”
He releases my hands and turns his attention back to the car. He puts the gear shift back into drive and pulls away from the curb. We’re silent as he navigates the dark road ahead, and I don’t distract him by reaching over to stroke his arm or shoulder. But it doesn’t feel like we’re distant at all. Being beside him now, I feel as close to him as if I were in his arms without enough space between us for a hair to pass through.
Alodia
I don’t know how much time passes in the fog of light and noise and pain that I find myself dragged through. I am aware of things in bits and pieces. I don’t remember arriving at the hospital, but I find myself there, under harsh fluorescent lights, my nose assaulted by the sharp antiseptic odor. At some point, I realize River isn’t there, and I hear myself call out to her.
“It’s okay, Alodia,” Jake murmurs, his breath warm on my ear. “They’re just checking her over. They’ll bring her back to us soon.”
I’m cold. The air feels too close to my skin. I think I might be naked. I want to move to cover myself, but I am not sure where the surface is that’s supporting me, or whether I’m even upright or lying down. I do feel Jake’s arms around me, and I cling to him for dear life, even as I feel him gently manipulating my limbs.
“That’s it, Princess. Good girl. I gotcha. I’m right here.”
I open my eyes and find myself on a gurney, the filthy gray sweatshirt I had been wearing replaced by a thin hospital gown. Jake is still beside me, but now he’s wearing a mismatched set of scrubs. Pain flares in my spine, white-hot and intense enough to make my stomach turn. I hear myself make a noise like a wounded animal. I feel the pressure of Jake’s grip on my hand, and his cool fingers raking gently through my hair, soothing an intense itch that I hadn’t realized was there.
“Look at me, Alodia. Look at me.” His voice is gentle, but it brooks no argument. I force myself to meet his eyes. “That’s my girl. You’re doing great. Listen...this next part isn’t gonna be pleasant. You got a really nasty wound they gotta take care of, and you also had some tearing during delivery that they say is gonna need a couple stitches. They’re gonna numb you up so you won’t feel the worst of it, but that part ain’t gonna be a cakewalk, either.”
His words don’t help the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel my eyes burning. I’m scared. I’m so scared, and I’m so tired of being scared. It all must show on my face, because Jake’s mouth twists into a grimace as he brings my hand up to hold against the rough, days-old beard that darkens his cheek.
“I know, sweetheart. I know. But you can do this. I know you can. You’re the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known.”
I can’t see my father just now, but I know he’s here. He’s hovering over me and Jake, equal parts a comforting, paternal presence and a frightening spectre I’m terrified has come to take me to whatever afterlife is waiting for me. I grip Jake’s hand.
“Don’t let me go.” My throat is so dry that it seems to chafe with the effort of speaking. The effort of drawing breath is rewarded with needling pain at scattered points on my torso. But Jake tightens his grip and bends to kiss my temple.
“I gotcha, Princess. I ain’t leaving.” The air around me shifts abruptly, and Jake’s grip on my hand tightens with anxiety. Something terrible is about to happen.
Sleep now, my daughter. It will be better if you sleep.
“Look at me, Alodia,” Jake says again. Again, I am compelled to obey, and I look into the depths of his clear blue eyes. “That’s it. Just keep your eyes on me. Don’t look anywhere else. Just look at me.”
But as the pain washes through me in a heady wave, I can’t help but break my gaze. I hear myself moan and Jake seems to press closer to me, even as the rest of the world is falling away again.
“I’m here. I’m here. I’m right here. Just stay with me…”
Grayson
My family has a luxury mountain cabin a little ways upstate. Dad hasn’t been there since Mom died, but once I was old enough to drive, I took over the upkeep and used it for my own private getaway. In college, I always had friends over to the cabin for spring break, and for summer parties. Tahira and Poppy were both frequent guests back then. I haven’t been back since before the gala that changed everything, but I keep it well maintained enough that when Tahira contacts me to ask if Caleb and his runaway children can stay there for a night, I don’t have any qualms about saying yes. Since everything is remotely connected, I am able to unlock the door and turn on the lights and the heat from my apartment. The local town doesn’t have a late-night grocery store, but I do put in an order for delivery from a nearby Chinese restaurant with instructions to leave it in the kitchen.
I don’t hear anything for a couple of hours, and in the meantime, I can’t sleep. I’m sitting up at my kitchen table with a mug of decaf when I hear the tapping at my balcony door. Tahira, in full Dragonness garb, waits for me on the balcony, squeezed into the shadow in the corner to avoid the beam of the outdoor lights. In a big city and a big apartment complex like this, one never knows who might be up late and watching, curious about who Dragonness is visiting at this hour. I flip off the outdoor light before I unlock the door and let her in.
I barely have the door open wide enough for her to slip through before she pounces on me, kissing furiously with her fingers raking through my hair. I push back, wrapping an arm around her waist as I stumble around to blindly push the door closed. I’ll worry about the latch in a minute. Right now, I am aware that my girlfriend is hovering an inch or so off the carpet as she presses her hips against me, one hand tugging at the belt of my bathrobe. My hands are at her back, groping for the mechanized clasp of her supersuit, but I resist tapping it just yet.
“Tahira… your wound. ...Is it safe to…?”
She hesitates, pulling back just a little. “I...think so…” But her feet sink into the carpet again as she presses her forehead to mine and reluctantly adds, “But maybe I should wait until a doctor clears me. I mean, it’s gotten a lot better...but I don’t know. I’ve never been stabbed before.”
I pull back enough to remove the mask from her eyes and brush the dark wisps of hair off her forehead. I lean in and kiss the spot between her eyebrows, then each eyelid in turn, the tip of her nose, and her mouth.
“...I missed you,” I murmur.
“I missed you, too. In case you couldn’t tell.”
I lace my fingers together at the small of her back. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?”
“How about a shower and a change of clothes?”
“I’m set up for that, too. Actually did a load of some of your stuff just yesterday.”
She snorts lightly. “I’ve got enough clothes here for a load? Might as well be living here.”
“...Might as well be,” I murmur. “...But that’s a discussion probably best saved for later. Did Caleb and the kids get settled in okay?”
“Yeah. Hopefully they’re still there in the morning. I don’t know what we’ll do if they aren’t. Don’t know what we’ll do if they are, either.”
“We’ll come up with something. I promise. You’re the Hero of Northbridge, and I’m the son of the city’s most powerful billionaire captain of industry. Between us, there have to be some strings we can pull to keep the kids together and Caleb out of prison.”
“You’re basically the head of Prescott Industries now,” she points out. “And you’ve got a lot more goodwill than your father. ...I’m honestly less worried about how we’re going to keep the kids together than I am about the whole Caleb situation. I don’t just want him out of prison, I want him on the right side of the law. And that’s going to take a lot of compromise.”
“We’ll figure it out. For now, you need to rest.”
She sighs, wrapping her arms around me and letting her head fall onto my shoulder. “...Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. ...For what?”
“For not asking why I care what happens to Caleb.”
I kiss her hair, letting my cheek rest against her head. “I don’t have to ask why, Tahira. Even if I don’t know. I trust your instincts. If you think he’s worth caring about, I believe it.”
“...I hope my instincts aren’t wrong about him. Because I have a feeling I can’t shake that we’re going to need him on our side in the future.”
Diego
My arrival at the hospital is a whirlwind of doctors and nurses asking questions, taking pulse, temperature, and blood pressure, and sticking me here and there to collect blood samples, place an IV for fluids, and pump painkillers into the space between my shoulder joint and my arm bone before they attempt to put the two back together.
Having my dislocated shoulder put back in its socket is not the most pleasant experience, but it’s also not as bad as I would have anticipated, especially once the painkillers set in. I feel a little heady, but there’s no violent wrenching motion to force it back into place like they show in the movies. It’s a lot more slow and gentle. Having Varyyn there to hold my good hand goes a long way, too. I really haven’t thanked Dax enough for his Christmas present.
I don’t exactly feel the bone slip back into place the moment it happens, but I do feel the pain start to ebb away almost immediately, and exhale with relief. The doctor smiles down at me.
“Think that did it. How do you feel?”
“Waaay the heck better,” I reply languidly.
“That’s what we like to hear. I’m just going to get a sling on you, and send a nurse to take you to your bed. We’re gonna keep you overnight, just for observation, but I’m optimistic you’ll be discharged tomorrow.” He pauses a moment, glancing at Varyyn. “I know you two live out-of-state. Do you have friends in the area who could put you up for a night or two after discharge? I don’t want you to have to rush your travel plans to get home.”
“We have a number of friends in the area,” Varyyn confirms. “And we certainly won’t be going home before Alodia and her baby are discharged as well.”
“Alodia is our friend who came in with us,” I explain when it’s clear the name doesn’t ring a bell with the doctor. “Or probably a little before us. Alodia Chandler. She had a newborn baby. A little girl. ...She was hurt. A cut on her back that got infected.”
The doctor’s eyes flicker with a brief spark of recognition, and he nods. “Ahh. Of course. I remember her coming in.”
“Do you know where she is?” I ask anxiously. “Do you know if she’s okay?”
“I haven’t heard anything since she came in. But she and the baby would have been taken up to the mother and baby unit.”
“Would I be able to see her?”
“Right now, you would be better off getting some rest.”
“That’ll be easier if I know what’s going on with my friend,” I point out. The doctor nods, reaching out to pat my good shoulder.
“Tell you what. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll see what I can find out. It’s quite likely she’s not ready for visitors herself yet, but would it help if I could get you an update?”
“Yeah, it would. Thanks.”
The doctor’s assurance is enough to keep me satisfied for a little while. I don’t badger the orderly who comes to take me to my room. It’s early morning by now, and the sunlight is streaming through the window. The orderly draws the curtains as I settle into bed. Varyyn sits down in a chair beside me and takes my good hand. When the orderly leaves, I roll my head to look at him.
“You’ll be more comfortable in the bed, you know.”
“...Is that permitted?”
I shrug. “Don’t know. At the moment, I don’t really care. If it’s not, we’ll stop when they tell us we have to stop. And I really want you to hold me right now.”
“I’m not very much inclined to argue. I want to hold you.”
He slips off his shoes and lies down beside me, holding me gently. I let my head rest on his shoulder. I feel safe in his arms. For a while, I can almost pretend that he and I are back in our bed in California. But I think the truth of where we really are and what’s really happening is pretty inescapable, because the dreams that take over once I’ve drifted off are anything but safe and peaceful. I wake up with every muscle in my body cramping around my thumping heart and the fading image of angry wasps droning around me. My own sharp gasp is already a vague memory as Varyyn’s soft lips brush my forehead and cheek.
“Shhh. You’re safe, my darling. I’m here.”
The sun is still up, but the light isn’t streaming through the window anymore. “How...how long was I…?”
“Only a few hours, my love.”
“Hours…? But...Allie. What did…?”
“The staff could not say much. But Sean and Michelle spoke to Jake. River is well and healthy. She is in a room with her parents.”
I want to smile at the thought. But the fact that Varyyn started with River’s condition is enough to tell me that her mother isn’t as well and healthy as she is. “Varyyn…”
Varyyn knows what I want him to tell me. He sighs, kissing my forehead. “Alodia’s wound has been treated. The tearing she sustained during delivery has been stitched. The infection is being treated with antibiotics. But...it is simply too early to tell if she will be alright.”
I gulp against the choking sensation in the back of my throat, biting my lip in an effort not to let out the anguished howl I can feel clawing its way up from my chest. I can’t stop the tears from dripping down my cheeks, but I am not going to wail like a banshee in the middle of a hospital.
“I should have gone for help,” I whisper when I can speak again. “I shouldn’t have waited. I should have gone when I knew she was sick…”
“That would have meant leaving her alone with enemies in pursuit when she could not defend herself. You did the best you could in an impossible situation.”
“She might die, Varyyn. River might never know her mother. Jake might lose his wife again…”
Varyyn kisses my cheek. “Diego, everyone knows how much you love her. No one doubts that you did everything in your power to protect her as best you could.”
I roll away from him as best as my injured shoulder will allow. I feel him withdraw just a little, feel his hesitation, and guilt pricks at me. He’s right. In my heart I know he’s right. But that knowledge isn’t enough to cut through the fear that encases me.
“...It won’t matter if she dies,” I say after a protracted silence. “...If she dies, it won’t matter how much I love her or if I did everything I could. She’ll still be dead.”
“Perhaps not. Not right away.” He hesitantly strokes my hair, and when I don’t pull away, he continues. “...But don’t bury her before she is gone. Hold onto hope as long as we have it.”
Alodia
I know that I am a ghost. But I don’t care. I’m home on La Huerta. The place where I was born. And for a moment, that is all I need. But then I see my friends. Jake, Sean, Craig, and Estela. All four are battered and bruised. Estela’s expression is stoically grim, but I know her well enough to see fear in her dark eyes. Sean and Craig are doing a worse job of hiding their anxiety, though they still seem to be holding it together. I guess they think they have to for Jake. Jake’s face is breaking my heart. He’s not crying just now, but his eyes are swollen and rimmed in red, and his face is splotched red with tears. He looks down as he walks, hunched and shaking like a terrified little boy.
Across from them are Diego, Varyyn, Michelle, and Raj. Diego breathes shallowly as he regards the other foursome.
“Where is Allie?” he asks, his voice low and trembling.
Sean answers the question, even though Diego is looking at Jake. Jake raises his eyes to meet Diego’s hard gaze, and there is guilt there. I don’t hear Sean explaining. But I know what he’s saying. They don’t know where I am. I fell from the chopper and they haven’t found me yet. Diego’s fear and grief burn into anger and he flies at Jake.
“You were supposed to take care of her! You let her die!”
Jake doesn’t fight back. He barely flinches to protect himself. Varyyn grabs his lover to hold him back.
“Diego! Diego, stop! She isn’t dead!”
I am, though. I want to tell Varyyn that I am. ...But I’m not. I’m standing at the Threshold, staring numbly down at the eleven graves. I look down at my hands. Wrinkled and papery, speckled with liver spots. But both of them flesh. I’m not the Endless. The Endless is in front of me.
“This is where we’re always going to end up,” she says mournfully. “This is the fate I cannot protect you from. It may be tomorrow, or it may be ninety years from now. But you will always live to see the last one die.”
“...They were protecting me.” I raise my eyes to meet her face. “...That’s what I’ve been seeing in my dreams. I watched them die to protect me.”
“You will always live to see the last one die.” She reaches out to cup my cheek in her good hand. “...Unless you die first…”
I can still feel her bony fingers against my cheek, but I am no longer at the Threshold. I recognize this place. I have danced on this stage for years. This is the stage at the performing arts center where my dance school’s showcases, workshops, and recitals have been held since I was a four-year-old ballerina, feeling like a princess in my shimmering purple tutu with a plastic tiara bobby-pinned to my head. It is familiar, but somehow wrong. Distorted. I shouldn’t be here, waiting in the wings like this. I haven’t been a student in years. I don’t know my choreography. I am in sweatpants, without dance shoes or stage makeup, and my hair is a tangled mess. And I am pregnant. I am sure of it. What other explanation could there be for the potbelly pushing against the waistband of my sweatpants, and the movement behind my navel? But even that feels wrong. Vague memories tell me that I am nearly ready to give birth, but my belly feels too small. The child’s movements are sharp and erratic.
But ready or not, I am pushed onto the stage. Harsh white lights turn the audience into a faceless dark sea that swims beyond the polished lip of the apron. Music floats up from beneath my feet. The Doll Dance. This is the Doll Dance. I have to push.
I don’t have time to question. My Catalysts are rushing in to surround me, all cradling shapeless bundles as they move through something that vaguely resembles the Doll Dance. I lie down on my back and open my legs.
“The doll is almost here!” Michelle sings from between my knees. Diego giggles, flitting between Jake and me, tapping us in turn.
“Daddy Ballerina, Mommy Ballerina!” He laughs wildly, and taps his own head. “Skinny Ballerina!”
Jake laughs with him, and taps my nose. “Princess Ballerina!” Then he and Diego laugh together, the sound morphing into a shrieking cackle as I feel a sudden emptiness in my belly.
“Baby Ballerina!” Michelle crows.
“Where is she?!” I hear myself cry. “Where is River?”
I can’t find her. I am on my feet, rushing around the stage, searching for the baby that was just torn bloodlessly out of me. The Catalysts plié right and left, shading their eyes as they search the darkness of the house.
“Where is River?” They sing in one voice. “Where is River?”
I can’t find her. I can’t find my baby.
“Oh me, oh my! Oh me, oh my!” The Catalysts jump from first position to second, scrubbing at their eyes.
I leap off the stage, into the house. I know where my baby is. The doors at the back of the house are open, and I can see the swaddled bundle in a cone of light at the end of the aisle. I scoop her up, and I feel my heart sink. The cloying face of a plastic baby doll peers up at me with unblinking eyes of blue glass, chubby plastic cheeks tinged red, lips permanently parted in a toothless, saccharine smile...
I’m going to be sick. No sooner have I realized this than there is a bowl under my jaw, and an unfamiliar pair of arms wrapped around my chest from behind, holding me upright. I want to fight their grip, but painful spasms wrenching through my midsection distract me from any potential escape attempts. A sour-tasting wave of liquid fire bubbles up my throat and sloshes out from between my lips.
“You’re okay, Princess. Just let it all up.”
“J-Jake…?” I croak weakly, barely able to raise my eyes to his face before another acid wave splashes into the bowl.
“Shhhhh. I’m right here. Everything’s okay.”
Everything is clearly not okay. But I don’t have the strength to worry about more than emptying my stomach right now. When that’s done, I sink limply back onto the pillow, shivering as Jake dabs at my forehead with a sponge.
“Here…” I open my eyes as I feel something poking at my lips and find a straw. “Have a little water.”
I obediently close my lips around the straw and take a few cautious sips as I take stock of myself. I hurt. That much I realize right away. My back and between my legs are the worst of it, but most of me aches like I had every muscle in my body clenched at the same time. I know where I am, even before I realize that the unfamiliar arms that held me up belong to a nurse. A few gaps aside, I know what happened before I arrived at the hospital. But there is an image in my mind of a plastic doll swaddled in my arms.
“R-River...Jake, where…?”
“She’s here, Princess.” I hear his voice catch, and I manage to look up at him to see a shaky smile on his lips. “...She’s perfect…”
“C-can I see her?”
“Of course. Doctor says you might even be able to feed her later if you were up to it.”
Jake looks somewhere to his side, and I crane my neck to follow his gaze. I can just about make out the bassinet at the end of the room, and the nurse bending over to carefully collect the yellow-swaddled contents. For a moment, my stomach lurches again. I’m not entirely convinced that the nurse is not about to hand me a plastic doll. But then the bundle squirms and whimpers. The nurse passes the bundle to Jake, who gently places our daughter beside me on the bed, keeping his hands on her for support.
The chubby face that peeks out from a cocoon of yellow blanket and a pink crocheted hat is no plastic doll’s face. She’s been cleaned since she was born, but her little face is still rosy over a warm complexion. Above a pudgy little chin, tiny pink lips are drawn into a pout that shows off their perfect cupid’s bow. Her round little nose wrinkles as if she smells something foul and her eyes are puffy around the edges. But then her eyes open, blue as sapphires, and her gaze cuts through the feverish haze the clouds my head. I carefully place a shaking hand on her chest, stroking her lightly through the blanket.
“Hello, River Skye McKenzie,” I murmur. I feel the corners of my mouth lifting into a feeble smile. “Aren’t you the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…”
“She’s an angel,” Jake agrees. “Here, take a look at this.” He gently pulls off her little crocheted cap, revealing a fine layer of downy chestnut hair. I bite my lip, feeling tears pooling in my eyes.
“...How did we live so long without her?”
“The same way we lived without each other: incompletely.”
I raise my eyes to his face. Something cold has begun to thread through my veins. “...Jake...is she real?”
Jake’s expression falters just for a moment. “Of course she’s real, Princess.”
“I...I think I was dreaming. ...I found my baby, but she was just a doll…”
Jake’s face softens as he brings up a hand to stroke my hair. “It was just a dream.”
“...I’m afraid of my dreams. I’m afraid to go to sleep again. I’m afraid that when I wake up, she will be gone…”
“I won’t let her disappear.”
“...What if you’re gone, too?”
He presses his lips to my forehead, holding them there for a long moment. Long enough for me to realize how much his breath is shaking. When he pulls back to smile at me, his eyes sparkle.
“Then I’ll fight until I’m at your side again. Isn’t that what we do, Princess? They pull us apart, and we fight like hell until we’re back together?”
Even heady with fever as I still am, I hear the catch of desperation in his voice, the pleading note under his fierce words. He is as scared as I am. He is scared that he is watching me fade. He is scared that he’s watching me die.
...I will live to see the last one die. Unless I die first.
Aleister
How to describe the moment when I see my wife descending Castor’s boarding stairs. I hear myself speak her name, but it comes out as a gasp as I start toward her. The moment her foot hits the tarmac, she breaks into a run, arms outstretched. We meet in a small collision, arms closing around one another in vise-like grips. I feel my throat tighten as I rest my cheek on the top of her head, savoring the familiar texture of her narrow braids on my skin, and the sweet scent of her honeysuckle lotion. It has not been two days since last I saw her, but it feels like a lifetime. From the strength of her grip, I can tell she feels the same.
“...You didn’t bring Reggie…?” she asks after a moment.
“He’s at home with Estela and Quinn. I am fairly certain that looking after him is all that is keeping Estela from getting herself arrested for disorderly conduct by marching down to the police station to threaten those cunts who attacked Alodia and Diego at the abandoned house.”
I feel Grace pause for a moment. “...That’s strong language for you, honey.”
“...Can we agree that I am justified under the circumstances?”
“Absolutely. ...How are they?”
“Diego has a dislocated shoulder, but he should heal. Thus far, it also seems that the baby is well and healthy. Alodia is being treated, but it is simply too soon to know how she will respond.”
“...I think she will be fine,” Grace says decidedly. “She knows how much she’s needed. She won’t let a little infection beat her.”
“I sincerely hope you are right.” I keep an arm over her shoulders as I begin to steer us toward the car. “...I don’t suppose you learned anything of interest from your mother? Anything about where Father was planning to take them, or what he intended to do with them? Even if...when...Alodia recovers, this is far from over.”
“...I did learn a few things,” she confirms, though she waits until we are in the car to continue. “She has reason to believe Rourke has a base in the Greek Islands. Specifically Ithaca.”
I can’t help rolling my eyes. “Of course it would be Ithaca,” I mutter.
“But that’s not all. Aleister, I think Yvonne is alive.”
Jake
The minutes and hours melt into each other while my wife is sick. The world tunnels and fills with static at the edges. All I can focus on is her. My princess. My princess and the little angel in the bassinet at the foot of her bed. I almost never don’t have one of them in my arms. Except when Rebecca or Michelle or my mother force me to get some sleep on the couch. I don’t generally fight them on it. One of the advantages to Alodia being in a maternity suite is that the couch is in the same room, a feature that surely exists for anxious partners waiting out a long labor.
I don’t know exactly when my mother and father arrived with Alodia’s aunt and uncle, Diego’s parents, and Raj. I know it was sometime after Alodia gave River her first feeding. It was mostly successful. Lots of pillows and my hands helped to keep River safe and supported, even with her mother feeling as weak as she is. I helped the nurse bathe her in a process that seemed like a compromise between a sponge bath in bed and a full shower, with Alodia seated on the shower seat while I helped wipe her down and rub dry shampoo into her hair. By the time that was done, the fever seemed to have sapped her strength again because I almost had to carry her back to bed. By the time her bandage had been changed, she’d slipped back into a fitful sleep. She hadn’t awakened yet when the anxious faces of our families appeared in the doorway.
I don’t really like all our folks being here. I don’t like the way Alodia’s aunt and uncle are hovering over her bed like loving parents, kissing her hands and stroking her hair. I like it even less when Diego’s parents do it--especially because I know from Raj that they’ve been decidedly cool to their own son since meeting his husband. I don’t even like the way my own parents are hovering right now, trying to help me with River. I don’t want help with River. Not yet. I don’t really want anyone but me and Alodia touching her right now. Somehow, letting someone else change her diaper or rock her to sleep makes me feel like I’m letting Alodia’s nightmares come true. Like somehow letting someone else touch her will turn her into the doll Alodia dreamed she was.
...I know it’s irrational. Especially because I don’t feel the same fear when one of the Catalysts offers their help. Knowing that it’s irrational doesn’t stop me from feeling the fear. A part of me feels guilty for it. But the fear holds on.
At some point after drifting into a doze on the couch, I hear familiar voices over my head. I’m not sure if I’m mostly awake or if I’m deep asleep and dreaming when I hear them, but I know the voices, and their words are clear.
“If the worst happens,” Diego says softly, “...will he have it in him to look after her?”
“Of course he will,” Rebecca replies. “He’ll need her more than ever.”
“...I watched my best friend grow up knowing she wasn’t wanted by the people who were raising her. People who took her in because they didn’t want to lose the last piece of her mother that they had. ...I don’t want to watch the same thing happen to her daughter.”
“Diego. Trust me. If the worst happens, River will be what keeps him alive.”
By the time I come fully awake, Diego and Rebecca are gone, replaced by Molly and Rob. Both Alodia and River are asleep. Molly sits at Alodia’s bedside stroking her arm, while Rob stares stoically out the window with his arms folded. Both of them melt into the scenery as I approach my wife and take hold of her hand. No matter how many people are around us, when I hold her hand, it’s just me and her. I sink into the chair, gripping her hand in both of mine and kissing her fingers.
“Stay with me, Princess,” I whisper. My chest is tight. I feel like it’s been tight for ages. I feel like I’ll never breathe free again, but I know I will if only she gets better. “You’re doing great, Alodia. Just hold on. Just keep fighting. Please...I...I can’t lose you again…”
“No one is going to lose Alodia,” Rob mutters. The reminder of his presence sends irritation threading through me, but I let it go.
“She’s a fighter,” Molly agrees. “She always has been.”
“She’s going to bury us all,” Rob adds with conviction. Now I properly grimace. It’s all I can do not to deck him. Instead, I press my lips hard to my wife’s fingertips, screwing my eyes shut as I exhale to a count of ten.
“Do me a favor,” I growl without looking at him. “Never say that in front of me, or her, or any of our friends.”
“...I...what? ...Why?”
“...If you’d been on the island, you’d understand. You just gotta trust me on this one.” I give Alodia’s hand another kiss and stand up, moving to gaze down at my daughter, sleeping peacefully in her bassinet. I reach down to stroke the back of her tiny hand, soft and delicate as a rose petal.
I’ll never leave you, Angel. It’s a silent promise, but I mean it with all my heart. No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you.
Slowly, though, the cloud of fear and uncertainty hanging over my family begins to dissipate as modern medicine starts to do its job. Alodia’s fever starts to dwindle. And three days after the birth of our child, it breaks.
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Growing up, my neighbors had a collie who absolutely adored my father. There was a gate between our two fenced in yards, and when the weather was nice, and both families had someone at home, we often left the gate open so the dog could wander freely between our yards. Our cats were not always thrilled to see a dog so close to the house, but it was cute to see this collie hovering around my dad while he barbecued on a summer evening.
Actually, the Cinderella story is very old and has hundreds, even thousands of variations across various cultures and time periods.
The story of Rhodopis is considered to be one of the earliest variants of Cinderella and comes from Ancient Greece. The tale of Ye Xian, aka the Chinese Cinderella, dates from around 860 AD.
There is a Japanese Cinderella story that dates from the 13th century. There’s a Vietnamese variant, an Iranian variant, and a whole bunch that pop up in One Thousand and One Nights. Like seriously, it’s all over the place. I wouldn’t be surprised if there actually was an Indian variant of Cinderella but I just haven’t heard of it.
There was a whole series of illustrated children’s books around when I was young that were all titled “A [Chinese/Japanese/Indian/etc] Cinderella.” My class did a unit on Cinderella stories from various cultures. Two others that I remember particularly well were “The Rough-Faced Girl” (Native American) and “Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters” (African).
“Sean! Pull over!” Varyyn’s voice comes over the car’s radio communication system without warning, startling me out of an anxious trance. It apparently startles Sean, too, because the car swerves sharply for a second before reorienting on the road.
“Holy mother of god, Varyyn!” he yelps. “Don’t shout at someone who’s trying to keep three tons of speeding metal under control!”
“Is everything okay back there?”
“Alodia made contact!”
I almost drop the Prism Crystal as electric energy shoots through every nerve in my body. I suddenly feel like my stomach, lungs, and heart are playing musical chairs in my torso and getting tangled up in each other in the rush.
“What did she say? Is she okay? Where is she?!” The questions tumble out of me, and I have to force myself to bite my tongue to let Varyyn answer.
“I don’t know exactly where she is, and I’m not sure if she is alright. Sean, I need you to pull over so that I can touch the Crystal. I think I may be able to get a better lock on her now if I can handle the Crystal.”
That’s all it takes to convince everyone to pull over. We stop at the side of the road and I scramble out to hand the Crystal off to Varyyn, willing myself not to pester him as he closes it between his palms and closes his eyes to concentrate. I can’t help pacing, but I don’t pester him. Finally, he opens his eyes.
“...We are heading in the correct direction. I’m not sure how far off we are, but we are on the right track. She and Diego are in...I think it’s an abandoned house.”
“But you don’t know?” I press him. “What did Alodia say when she made contact?”
Varyyn purses his lips for a moment before answering. “Very little that was clear. She is scared, and I don’t think she is well.”
“What makes you think that?” Michelle asks.
“Her thoughts were very unfocused. And certain images that pervaded them invoked...well...fever. Illness. Pain. She seemed to confirm that she was hurt.”
“Shit!” I hiss, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and pulling viciously to keep myself from punching either a car or one of my innocent friends.
“...I-I really should go ahead,” Tahira says.
Michelle shakes her head. “No. Not alone. We don’t know who we might find there apart from Alodia and Diego, and you’re still not completely healed. It’s best if we stick to the plan. We know the Crystal is leading us in the right direction, so we stick together and follow its path.”
“And who the hell made you the dictator here, Maybelline?” I snap. Michelle fixes me with a steady eye.
“I am aware that your wife is usually the leader in our family, but given that she is the one we’re currently trying to rescue, it seems like it falls on me to be the voice of reason. Tahira might need backup. If Alodia is hurt or sick, I need to be there since I’m the only one of us with a medical degree. And if Tahira takes the Crystal ahead, we lose our only compass, and we possibly lose valuable time trying to find our way--especially if Tahira can’t get past whatever guards Fiddler might have put on them. That is time that I could have spent making sure she and your baby were stable. If you or anyone else can refute any of those points, I am happy to listen.”
Of course, no one really can refute those points. Tahira may be a superhuman, but the rest of us have actually fought Arachnid before. If they still have any of the technology they had on the island, being a superhuman might not be enough. Michelle nods, satisfied.
“Right. Good. There is just one thing first.” She pulls out her phone and taps the screen a few times. We hear the purr of the line ringing on the other end.
“What’s up, Michelle?” Zahra asks on the other end, not quite succeeding at nonchalance.
“Quick version is that Alodia made contact with Varyyn and we know we’re heading in the right direction, but we don’t know much else, and Alodia might not be in the best shape. I think I might need Iris’s medical scanner when we get to her. We’re about six hours out from Northbridge now. Can Iris track us? Like with my phone’s GPS or something?”
“Pfft. Child’s play. I’ll have her in the air in two minutes. You heading towards Northbridge or away?”
“Towards for now.”
“Good. Unless you veer wildly off course or turn around completely, I’d estimate Iris will find you in under three hours.”
“... I just hope that’s fast enough.”
Diego
Eyes screwed shut, sweat running down her ashen face in rivers, Allie pushes shaking, hissing breaths out through a narrow, round gap between her lips, gasping as she inhales. Her ragged fingernails dig uncomfortably into the skin on the back of my hand, but her grip isn’t strong enough to hurt. That’s the part that scares me. She’s feverish and weakened by captivity and infection. She can’t have her baby here. Not like this. I wait for the contraction to pass and blot the sweat off her face with what I think is a relatively clean washcloth that I found in the closet.
“...I have to get help.”
Allie whimpers, shaking her head. “...No…”
“Allie, we don’t really have a choice here. You’re hurt, you’re sick, and now you’re in labor. I--” I feel my voice catching and struggle to keep it under control. “I am way out of my depth here.”
“Varyyn is coming.” Her voice comes out in a weak, strangled moan. “Th-this is my first baby. We have time…”
“Last we knew, your baby was breech, and you were possibly going to need a C-section. If something goes wrong…” I bite my lip against the swell of tears rising from my throat. “Allie, I can’t let you die…”
“I’m...not going to die.” She opens her eyes and turns her gaze to meet mine. “...Don’t leave me alone. If F-Fiddler finds me...you won’t know where she takes me...Rourke will have River. ...Varyyn is coming. He’ll come for us.”
“...Allie…”
“Please…” she whimpers. “...I can’t do this alone. I need you. You’re my best friend. You’re my brother. Please don’t leave me alone…”
I grimace, my teeth clenched against the rising surge of terror that threatens to come out in a frantic scream. There’s no way I can leave her when she’s begging me to stay. My hand shakes as I brush the sweat-soaked hair off her forehead.
“Okay. Okay...I’m not leaving. I promise. Just...tell me what you need. What do you need me to do?”
“H-help me time the...contractions. And...I need you to help me...get my pants off…”
“Already? But...won’t you be cold?”
“I have blankets. My pants are soaked. I’ll be colder with them on.”
“Okay, fair.” I push back the blankets, wincing a little at the dark fluid stain on the crotch of her sweatpants. I force myself to smirk at her. “I won’t deny I feel weird about the idea of seeing my sister’s galleta, but I will endure because I love you.”
She rewards me with a weak smile. “And I love you for doing this.” Her smile twists into a grimace as she attempts to lift her hips to give me room to draw down her pants and underwear. “...I’m sorry...for anything else I put you through before this is over. I’ve read...everything I could find about the process...if I...say anything mean…”
I shake my head, almost smiling for real. “I won’t take it to heart. I promise. And just so you know, if it comes to it, I will absolutely deliver your baby.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that…” She abruptly falls back with a gasp, clutching wads of the blankets in her fists. I hastily peel one hand away from the blanket to hold in mine.
“I’m here. I’m right here.”
“...It’s...going to get worse…” she groans through clenched teeth.
“And I’ll be here when it does,” I promise. ...Though when it does get worse, I really hope someone else is here, too.
...Hurry, Varyyn. Please hurry...
Caleb
“Zelda needs to go potty!” RJ’s singsong voice floating up from the back of the van makes me groan.
“Jesus, again? Didn’t she go an hour ago?”
“She’s a dog,” Dylan points out reproachfully. “She doesn’t understand time. Besides, she’s nervous. That makes her have to pee more often.”
I don’t particularly feel like cleaning dog piss out of the upholstery, so I grudgingly pull over to let the kids take care of their dog’s business. Might as well take the opportunity to have a smoke, too. The kids complained about the smell when I tried to light up in the van.
At the side of a long stretch of road running through a forest preserve, we pile out of the van. Dylan takes it on himself to clip Zelda’s leash to her collar, and the kids venture a little ways into the trees while I lean against the van and fix a cigarette between my teeth, lighting up with a quick snap of my fingers. I space out as I puff, just barely paying attention as the kids move through the trees. But then I see Ysa take off at a run.
“Ysa!” Dylan yelps. He quickly passes Zelda’s leash to Alex, taking off after his cousin. I move to follow, shouting over my shoulder for the younger boys to stay put where they are. It doesn’t take too long to catch up to her. She’s stopped at the edge of a side road where a jeep is awkwardly parked on the shoulder. The distance is probably the equivalent of a city block ahead of where the van is parked. But I am breathless by the time we reach her.
“What the heck, Ysa?” Dylan says irritably. “What did you run off like that for?”
As I’m catching my breath, I get a look at Ysa’s face, and my gut gets cold as I realize she looks scared.
“What’s wrong?”
“They need help.”
“...Who needs help?”
“The people who were in this car,” she says shakily. “They’re in trouble.”
My eyes find Dylan’s and we exchange a bewildered glance. Clearly he doesn’t know what the fuck to make of what Ysa just said any more than I do.
“Ysa, what...what do you mean?”
“I mean that the people who were in this car are in trouble and they need help,” she replies with an impatient edge in her voice.
“How...do you know that?”
She shakes her head, scowling. “I don’t know how I know. But I know.”
“Who are the people who need help?”
“I don’t know!” she snaps, frustration clearly mounting. “There are two of them. I think. Caleb, we should help them!”
In my opinion, going on some kind of wild goose chase after some unknown people who are supposedly in some possibly imaginary trouble sounds like the last thing we should be doing. But I feel like I can probably phrase it a little more diplomatically.
“Easy, kiddo. I’m sure the people in this car are fine. They’re probably just hiking, and they’ll be back soon.”
“But it’s going to be dark soon!” Ysa protests. “And cold!”
“All the more reason we should be getting back to the van and moving on. We’re gonna need to stop for the night soon.”
“But we can’t just leave them!”
“Ysabel, we don’t know anything about these people! We don’t know if they are even in trouble at all!”
“They are!”
“Caleb,” Dylan interrupts. “...There are footprints near the car. Maybe we could follow them just for a little ways?” Just to satisfy her, is the part he doesn’t say, but I can still hear. “If the people in the car are on their way back, we’ll probably run into them pretty quickly.”
I groan. What did I get myself into with these kids? For fuck’s sake, I’m actually considering going along with this…
“Okay, fine! But wait here for a minute, okay? I’m gonna get the van and the boys and the dog. I don’t wanna leave the van on the shoulder out in the open.”
Alodia
There are ghosts in this room.
I’m being wrapped in a corset of white-hot barbed wire. My hands and feet are numb with cold, but the blood in my head has been replaced with boiling magma that melts a block of ice deep in the center of my brain and sends alternating trickles of ice and unbearable heat down my spine. I’m sweating and shivering as I cling to Diego, my brain flickering between lucidity, delirium, and something in between. In the space between, I find the ghosts. I am not the first mother to labor on this spot.
I can hear the noises I’m making. Clumsy, gulping sobs interspersed with animal groans, grunts, and howls. The ghosts hear me, too. Many of them are making the same noises in their struggle to bring their children into the world. I am one with them, with every mother in history who opened her legs on this spot to sweat and push new life from her body.
Some babies come easily. The house I labor in is new, and a young mother who is probably still alive somewhere in the world breathes through her labor and delivers her son with such quiet effort that her little daughter feels no fear as she plays at her mother’s head. The child absorbs an atmosphere of excitement as her new baby brother lets out his first cry. But not every mother is so fortunate, and as each contraction swells to excruciating heights, the lucky mothers’ happy tears are washed away in blood as an immigrant woman’s baby girl refuses to draw breath, or an indigenous mother bleeds out over her howling son.
Children born dead. Mothers killed in the process. I meet the dark eyes of a girl who can’t be more than fifteen, the first human to give birth on this spot more than ten-thousand years ago, whose ancestors had made a journey across lands that were later swallowed by the rising sea. She is not a primitive creature. She speaks in sentences. She has a family and a culture. The child she bears was conceived with a boy to whom she had given herself willingly, with the intent of creating new life. But her humanity is tested when the pain sets in, pain that has been a part of child-bearing for so long that no one remembers the days when we were apes and we gave birth with minimal effort. She is scared, and her fear is my fear. My pain is her pain. But my labor is not her labor. Hers was over ten-thousand years ago. Every other woman who has labored on this spot is past her pain, but I’m in the thick of mine. Still, their long-dead labors cling to me like the ropes of seaweed that drape treasures drawn up from a shipwreck.
She won’t die. I won’t let my baby die. I won’t let her be sacrificed to the bloodthirsty deity who has circled mothers on this spot like a vulture for ten-thousand years, choosing whether to separate mother and child in death, or whether to take or spare them both. Whoever this deity is, they can’t have my baby. They won’t have her.
...But as I feel delirium encroaching on my mind again, and pain rises to meet it, I have to admit that I am less confident they won’t have me.
Caleb
We’ve been walking for awhile now. The younger boys are starting to complain, but Ysa is insisting we push on.
“We’re going the right way,” she says confidently.
I know she’s right because the trail we’ve been following hasn’t gone cold yet. Whoever these people are, they haven’t turned back toward their jeep yet. It’s a bad sign. As late as it is, hikers would have turned back by now, or set up camp if that’s what they were planning to do. As far as we’ve come, it’s not likely they’re either hikers or campers. Even if they were hurt and unable to move, we’d have found them by now, or the trail would have dropped off. It’s looking more and more likely that they abandoned their jeep because of some kind of mechanical failure and struck out on foot. Why the hell they didn’t just stay with the jeep and call for help is anyone’s fucking guess. But I’m starting to think Ysa’s right about them being in trouble.
That feeling only grows when the area we’re in starts to look real fucking familiar…
...Oh, shit…
“Okay, that’s enough!” I say firmly, reaching out to grab Ysa’s shoulder and stop her advancing. “Time to get back to the van.”
“No!” Ysa cries. “No, we’re so close!”
“And we wanna be getting a lot farther away!”
“Caleb, what’s wrong?” Dylan asks.
“I know this place. It’s very near to where a very dangerous person lives, and we should get outta here and get back to the van.”
“But what about the people?!” Ysa wails. “We’ve come so far, we can’t just leave them!”
“Ysa, you heard Caleb. It might be dangerous. If he thinks we should go back, then we should go back.”
“No!”
I gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting sweet little Ysabel to pull away from me. And I definitely wasn’t expecting her to take off running again. Where the shit does she get so much energy?
“Dylan, you stay here with the boys and the dog!” I order. “Keep yourselves hidden and wait right here! I’ll bring her back!”
Diego
“Dios te salve, Maria. Llena eres de gracia: El Seńor es contigo…”
I mutter the old, familiar words under my breath. They taste foreign on my tongue. You might think that being raised Catholic, the prayer would come naturally to me. It doesn’t. Prayer in general doesn’t come naturally to me. The God of my mother and father has been a stranger to me for so many years. The gods of my lover and my found family are...well...me, and the members of my found family, and the most powerful of them is the very woman I am trying to pray for. But prayer is all I have to turn to right now.
“Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres…”
At first I thought about praying to Vaanu. Surely if any deity could protect Allie, it would be her father, right? But Vaanu isn’t really a god. Any more than I am, or Allie as the Endless, or any of the Catalysts. Vaanu is an alien with weird alien powers, but he’s not a god to be prayed to.
“Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre, Jesús.”
The words are sticking in my throat. At first I tried to think back to my mother’s book of Saints, see if there was a patron saint of childbirth buried in my subconscious whose name I could invoke to protect Allie. Of course multiple such saints exist. There are patron saints of television and the internet, it would be stupid if there weren’t any saints watching over such a messy, dangerous, and common process that has been going on throughout human history. But what I mostly remember about patron saints of childbirth and mothers is that a number of them are weirdly sans childbearing organs. If I believed in a Mother Goddess, I might have called on her. Instead, I’m softly crying out to the only blessed being from the religion of my childhood that I vaguely imagine might hear me.
“Santa María, Madre de Dios…”
Allie buries her face in my chest, clutching my sleeves as she screams. Her body is slick with sweat, feeling like she might slip out of my arms. I hold her tighter, rocking urgently as I stroke her damp, greasy hair with a shaking hand.
“...Ruega por nosotros pecadores,ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte…”
Caleb
I was right about where we are. Gigi’s abandoned squat is looming in the distance, and Ysabel is barrelling toward it. Fuck, does this kid ever get tired?! Call it adrenaline or a second wind or whatever, but somehow seeing where she’s headed gives me a burst of speed, and I finally overtake her enough to wrap my arms around her and roll us both to the ground. Of course she struggles, but I’m prepared for that this time, and I don’t loosen my grip.
“Let me go!” she shrieks, desperation in her voice. “Caleb, let me go!”
“I will, if you promise to stand still long enough that we can talk about this!” Ysa rapidly stills, apparently thinking this over. I prompt her, “Do we have a deal?”
“...Yeah.”
I cautiously loosen my grip, and when she doesn’t immediately take off again, I give her space to get up. I get into a crouch in front of her and take her by the upper arms, not hard enough to hurt her, but not loose enough that she can break away again without a struggle. I hold her gaze with mine.
“Listen to me, kiddo. You don’t want anything to do with that place, okay? I know the people who hang out there, and they’re really, really dangerous. Especially for a kid like you. It’s time to go back to your brothers and cousins.”
The moon is bright overhead, and I can see Ysa’s dark eyes shimmer with tears, her lips quivering. “But...the people...we have to help them…”
I’m about to protest, but I’m interrupted by the faint, but unmistakable sound of a scream drifting out from inside the house. Fuck. Not like I’m gonna be able to convince her no one’s in trouble in there now. I groan through gritted teeth, briefly tightening my grip on the kid. I shake my head briefly to clear it, then sigh and look back at her face.
“Look...I’ll take care of figuring out what’s going on in there, okay? But while I’m doing that, you need to hide, got it? Hide in the trees, and if anyone comes after you, you scream your lungs out. Understand?”
After the briefest hesitation, she nods. When I release her and stand up, she moves back into the trees. I nod my approval, then steel myself to go back into Gigi’s squat. I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to help whoever’s in there. I’ve at least got some hope that whoever it is, it’s not Gigi or any of her crew, that they really have abandoned the place. But no way Ysa’s gonna go back to the safety of her family or the van if I don’t try. I try to keep to shadows as I creep up to the front door. I press my ear to the door and don’t detect movement immediately behind it, nor are there any flickers in the front-facing windows. I know from experience that the door creaks when opened slowly, but usually if I open it fast, it mostly makes a faint squeak. I make a calculated decision and push it open quickly. Unfortunately, I am rewarded with the sustained, thunderous crash of dozens of unopened cans of food clattering against worn tile. A crude intruder alarm. Way too crude for Gigi, but it definitely destroyed any hope I had of sneaking in and stealthily assessing the situation.
Well...I’m in it now. Might as well see what the screaming is about.
Diego
I’m aware that I’m sobbing as I replace Allie on the mattress and stand with the fireplace poker clutched in my fist. Someone’s in the house. Maybe. I hope against hope that the crash of cans scared them off. But if not…
I plant my feet and raise the poker in front of me like a sword. Allie whimpers and moans behind me. I blink fiercely to clear the tears from my eyes. I need to be able to see. If I have to fight to protect her, I will. But I hope I don’t have to. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe even if the cans didn’t scare them off, it’s not actually someone who wants to harm us. Maybe it’s just someone desperate for shelter like we were. Maybe it’s even Varyyn, come to rescue us, or…
The shadows under the door shift as someone moves in the corridor beyond. The doorknob rattles as whoever it is tries the handle, but the lock holds. The next sound is a pounding knock.
“Hello?” An unfamiliar male voice drifts through the door. “Everything okay in there?”
“Wh-who are you?!” I hate how high and shaky my voice sounds. The last thing I want is to sound weak and scared, however well that describes how I feel.
“Uh...well, my name probably doesn’t mean anything to you...but I’m not here to cause trouble. It’s just I know this area, and if you’re not from around here, you probably don’t want to hang around...Listen, it kinda sounds like someone’s hurt in there…”
“M-my friend…” I hear myself admitting. I find that I’ve stepped closer to the door, too, as if drawn by the prospect of a friendly--or at least non-hostile--face on the other side. “Sh-she…she’s…”
“I’ll level with you, I stumbled across your jeep a ways back, followed the trail you left. I got a van...I could help you get her to a hospital. Or...I got a phone if you wanna call for help…”
“The phone,” I answer promptly. “Slide the phone under the door.”
“Hey, hang on. How do I know I’m gonna get it back?”
Irritation needles at me, temporarily distracting me from my fear. “My friend’s not in a condition to get out the window, and I’m not gonna leave her behind.”
He groans. “...Yeah, okay. Fair. Fine. Just a sec.”
I never thought I would cry at the sight of a smartphone, but right now, the shiny rectangle that our visitor wedges under the door is the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in days. I drop the poker and pounce on it, my hands trembling as I thumb the home button. Just one further obstacle to get over.
“...Passcode…?”
Varyyn
I don’t recognize the number of the call coming through on my phone. But I answer, because the situation I am in is not one where a person ignores calls from unknown numbers.
“Hello?”
“...Varyyn?!”
My heart drops into the pit of my belly as a knot of tangled emotion wraps itself around my throat. I feel myself begin to shake.
“...Diego…? ...Diego, my darling, is that you?”
In the driver’s seat beside me, Estela stiffens. Her hand moves toward the switch that would allow our friends in the other car to listen in, but I block it with my hand, and she grips the wheel again. Not yet, I signal with a shake of my head. Not until I have something more to tell them.
“Yes! Yes, it’s me! Wh-where are you? Allie said she reached you, and you were coming for us…”
I bring my free hand back to caress the phone with my fingertips, as if I can reach through it to touch his beautiful face. My breath quivers in my throat.
“We are coming, my own sweetheart. I promise. We’re following the Prism Crystal to reach you. You...you’re together, right? Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he answers with a catch in his voice. “But Allie…”
“She seemed unwell when we spoke…”
I can almost feel him nodding. “We escaped in a jeep. We were heading toward Northbridge, but it broke down. Allie was hurt, and then she got sick, and now she’s in labor, Varyyn, and I don’t know if she’s going to be okay…”
“Wait, you were heading toward Northbridge?!” I sit up straighter, my heart pounding violently against my ribs. “Where did the jeep break down?! Where are you now?!”
“We’re in an abandoned house somewhere. We were on highway fifty-eight, somewhere past mile-marker twenty-four, I think. We had to walk for awhile…”
“Twenty-four…we just passed that, just before you called! ...Estela, what…?” I suddenly realize that Estela has brought the car to a stop. She nods at the windshield. Ahead of us, I can see that our friends have stopped, and Tahira has emerged from the car with the Crystal in her hand. She turns slowly in place and leans over to speak to the others.
“...Varyyn…? Are you still there?”
“I’m here, my love. ...I…”
The radio crackles to life, and Jake’s voice comes through. “Crystal’s pointing into the trees now. Don’t think we’re gonna find a straight road through. Might be best to continue on foot.”
“Diego is on the phone!” I practically yelp in my excitement, and turn my attention back to my partner. “We’re close, my darling! Do you hear me? We’re very close now, my love, so just hold on for a little while longer and we’l--”
A massive noise that I cannot decipher on the other end of the line swallows my words. My veins turn to ice as I hear Diego cry out.
“Diego?!” I am answered only by the sound of scuffling and unintelligible voices just before the line goes dead. And then I hear my own voice, strangled and foreign to my own ears. “No!”
Diego
I’m rooted to the spot, frozen in shock as I take in Stonewall looming in the destroyed doorway. I don’t recognize the brown-haired woman grinning in front of him, nor the shaggy-haired man slumped against the wall just outside. But the woman is staring at me like she knows me and I can’t take my eyes off her face. Then Stonewall, moving with shocking speed for a man made of rocks, lunges at me. The phone slips out of my hand as he grabs my wrist. I’m pulled like a rag doll, and in the dimly lit room, I can just make out the sight of the phone being crushed under his stone foot before my arm bone and the socket of my shoulder are forcibly separated. The pain is white-hot, shooting through my shoulder like a lightning bolt and temporarily blinding me. My own scream is distant in my ears, overpowered by the screech of static as my consciousness threatens to detach from the agony. When the world finally rights itself, I am crumpled on the carpet, sobbing as I clutch my arm. It’s still attached to my body, but it won’t move. I weakly probe my shoulder, but the flashes of pain and unnatural softness I feel there make my gorge rise. I try to focus on the face above me, the grinning, girlish face of the unfamiliar woman.
“So it’s true. I do have Selected staying under my roof. And not just any Selected.” She turns her gaze toward the mattress where Allie is struggling to sit upright, a desperate attempt at a defensive posture. “...The Mystery herself. My killer.”
She turns away from me, drawing something out of her pocket as she crosses to the mattress. A switchblade. I see it gleam as she flicks it open beside her.
“Looking a little worse for wear, Alodia,” the woman purrs. “And what’s that going on with your stomach? Got a little parasite?”
“...Who are you…?” Allie croaks out the question in something that’s equal parts a whimper and a growl. The woman kneels on the edge of the mattress, trailing her fingers along Allie’s leg over the blanket.
“Not surprised you don’t recognize me. Had this pretty face hidden behind a helmet on our last encounter. But maybe you’ll figure it out when I tell you that on the day I died, you were dressed like a pirate straight out of a Disney ride. You and your friends boarded our ship, and thanks to you, I ended up overboard. I wasn’t someone anyone cared about enough to save, so I drowned.”
“...I killed you…” Allie whispers.
“Yeah, you did.”
“...You...you were holding Sean and Craig prisoner. We had to get them back.”
“Yeah, not really interested in excuses. Honestly, I find your reasoning totally understandable. I’m also probably not the only rank-and-file Arachnid you killed without regretting it.” Her hand is trailing further up Allie’s thigh now as she leans forward. “...I don’t want revenge because I think I was right and you were wrong. I want it because you killed me. And that’s just the kind of thing that needs to be answered for. I suppose if I were still dead, I wouldn’t even care. But somehow...I’m not.”
Allie’s only answer is a strangled cry of pain. It’s probably another contraction, but it makes me try to sit up sharply, only to be forced down again by a flare of pain in my shoulder that knocks the breath out of me. The woman grasps the blanket and yanks it back, exposing Allie’s naked lower body. My heart wedges in my throat as she recoils, her expression twisting in pain and terror.
“Stop!” I shriek. The woman ignores me as she grasps my friend’s knees and forces them apart.
“Just as I thought. Little parasite is probably about ready to emerge. The question now is how to play this.” The blade in her hand flashes menacingly as she brings it to hover between Allie’s legs. “I could cut it out right here. Or reach in and yank it out and brain it against the wall.”
“No...please…”
“Leave her alone!” I plead. “Please don’t hurt her!”
“Gigi, stop!” The male voice from earlier apparently belongs to the man who was slumped outside the bedroom door. The room is suddenly brighter, and when I realize his hands are engulfed in flames, it hits me who he is.
The woman--Gigi--turns to raise an eyebrow at Caleb. “Really? You’re going to threaten me with fire in an enclosed space like this? You think you can burn me without burning up this bitch or her crotchfruit?”
“I might be reckless enough to try.”
“No you’re not. I know you well enough, Caleb. You’re a weasly, immature anarchist. But you have a soft spot for kids. You always have. And you don’t want a repeat of the DMV again. You don’t ever want to come that close to burning a kid alive again.”
Caleb clenches his fists, lowering them slightly, but the flames don’t go out.
“...You’re right. I don’t.” He raises his head, smirking. “...So I’ll let someone else worry about taking you out.”
A terrible noise drowns out whatever response Gigi might be making, a deafening cacophony of twisting, groaning metal, splintering wood, and crumbling masonry. I instinctively curl in on myself, screwing my eyes shut as a blast of icy air washes over me. Even as the noise fades, I don’t let my eyes open again until I hear a familiar voice.
“Nice of you two to join the party,” Tahira says blithely. “How did you find me?”
I open my eyes and crane my neck to take in the scene through a slowly settling cloud of dust. Tahira--or Dragonness, I guess I should call her while she’s in costume--has Gigi by the throat and pressed against a wall with one hand, held up so her toes are barely touching the floor. It looks like she decided to rip the entire window out of the wall to get inside, frame and all. Talos and Minuet are in the doorway, with Minuet holding Stonewall captive in a shimmering time field.
“Got an anonymous tip that you might need help,” Minuet explains. “Kinda seemed like a trap, but also too much fun to sit out.”
“We’ll probably want to stake out the perimeter once we’re clear here.” Dragonness turns her masked gaze to me and Allie in turn. “How’re you two holding up?”
“Th-think we’ve been better…” I manage to croak. “...Is...is Varyyn…?”
“He’s not too far behind,” she assures me. “Jake and Michelle are with him. And Sean, Estela, and Rebecca.”
“...Jake…?” Allie whimpers.
“He’s coming. So you two just hang tight for a few minutes. In the meantime, Marci, can you connect me to emergency dispatch? Get the coordinates for this place ready for them, too.”
Michelle
The sounds Varyyn heard as the call from Diego was cut off finally convinced us to let Tahira suit up and fly ahead. Luckily, by that point, Iris had reached us, and it was simple enough for her to connect with Marci in order to keep the rest of us on the right path.
We arrive at the abandoned house to find a fresh gaping hole in one wall. Surprisingly, we also find Minuet outside, holding two figures face down on the grass in front of her in a shimmering time field. Light pours through the hole in the wall--and unmistakeable cries of pain.
“...Alodia!” Jake picks up speed, sprinting toward the door, Varyyn close on his heels. Iris has already flitted in through the hole.
“Emergency services are on the way,” Minuet tells me. “Dragonness has gone after Caleb and Talos is inside with Alodia and Diego!”
“Caleb was…?” I shake my head. “No, never mind. Are you all right out here?”
“Wouldn’t object to you sending the bronze idiot to give me a hand. Can’t hold these assholes indefinitely.”
“Understood. Thank you.”
“Oh, and watch for the canned goods in the front hallway!”
Sean, Estela, Rebecca, and I make it to the front door and pick our way over the scattered cans before following the light and noise to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Jake and Varyyn are already there, cradling their respective spouses in their arms. They both look to be in bad shape. Unfortunately, I am only one doctor, and at a glance, it’s pretty clear that Alodia needs my help first. I strongly suspect Diego would agree with me, too. Jake looks fearfully at me as I approach.
“She feels like she’s on fire…”
I kneel beside her, giving her a quick once-over glance. The degrading bandage on her lower back doesn’t escape my notice, nor does the faint, foul odor wafting off it. It looks like sweat has been wearing away at the medical tape. But that’s not my primary concern at the moment. I quickly tie my hair back, securing it at the nape of my neck, and open my bag. I need hand sanitizer, and a fresh pair of vinyl gloves.
“Iris, what’s the medical report?”
“Alodia’s temperature is one-hundred two degrees Fahrenheit. Pulse is one-hundred thirty. Rapid respiration, BP is 90/60. Staphylococcus aureus infection is detected. She is also in advanced labor. Cervix is dilated nine centimeters. Fetal heart rate is 149. Frank breech position is detected. No signs of fetal distress.”
I can feel my own heart pounding frantically against my ribs as I pull on my gloves, but I manage to keep the tremor out of my voice as I respond. “Thank you, Iris.”
“What does that all mean?” Jake asks anxiously.
“The baby is doing fine,” I reply with practiced calm. “Alodia has an infection that will need to be dealt with, but the priority now is going to be getting the baby out. Iris, what’s the report on Diego?”
She rattles off his vitals, and her assessment of his condition: mild hypothermia, mild dehydration, anterior dislocation of the shoulder.
“Rebecca, do you know how to stabilize a dislocated shoulder?”
“Yeah, I’ll get on that.”
“Thanks. There are cold packs in my bag. Should help with the pain for now. We’ll hold off oral rehydration as long as his symptoms stay mild in case he needs sedation for reduction. Alodia? Can you look at me, sweetie?” It clearly takes effort, but Alodia lifts her head off Jake’s shoulder and meets my gaze. I smile. “Good girl. I’m gonna help you through this, okay? But I’ll level with you that I’m a little outside of my wheelhouse. So I’m just going to make sure I’ve got someone over my shoulder to guide me. Sean, I need you to get my phone out of my pocket, and I’ll tell you the number to call.”
Sean does as I tell him, setting the phone on speaker beside me once it’s ringing. It’s barely two rings before I hear a voice on the other end.
“Northbridge General, Labor and Delivery.”
“This is Dr. Michelle Nguyen. I need to speak to the nearest OBGYN, midwife, or L&D nurse. Tell them I’m in an abandoned house with a mother in labor and the baby is presenting breech. I’ve got EMS en route, but it’s not likely they’ll make it before she delivers and I could use a little advice.”
“Understood, doctor. Someone will be with you in just a sec.”
Jake
I don’t understand most of what’s said between Michelle and whoever she got a hold of at the hospital. Maybe I’d understand a little better if I paid more attention, but I can’t think about that right now. All I can think about is Alodia. All I’ve wanted for...how many days or maybe weeks now is to have her back in my arms safe and sound. Now she’s back in my arms, but she’s not safe. Her skin is searing hot against mine and she’s drenching in sweat, even though she’s shaking like she’s been out naked in a snowstorm. I try to steady her against me as she whimpers in pain, her teeth rattling in her mouth.
“She’s shaking like a leaf, Maybelline. Should we get her warm or something?”
“We’re gonna keep her cozy as we can,” Michelle agrees. “But shaking during labor is pretty common. She’s doing a lot of hard work here.”
“What can I do? How can I help?”
“She’s the one to ask there,” Michelle replies, gently but pointedly. I feel a little stupid, but my embarrassment is fleeting. I look down at my wife’s flushed face, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek.
“What do you need, Princess? What can I do? I’ll do anything.”
She brings a hand up to wrap her fingers around mine. “...Don’t leave me…” Her voice is weak, but the message is clear. I kiss her hot, sweat-salted forehead, and bring mine to rest against it.
“I’m right here. I ain’t leaving you for a second. I swear. ...Don’t you leave me, either, okay?”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and their implication hangs heavy in the air around my head. I’ve been imagining my daughter’s birth for months, letting so many scenarios play out in my head like movie scenes. I knew it would hurt Alodia. I thought she’d have the option of pain relief, but I knew I’d be holding her hand through some rough moments. I didn’t always imagine the perfect happy ending, either, with River healthy and perfect in our arms. I let myself imagine complications. C-sections, River having trouble breathing. I even let myself face the possibility of a stillbirth or some other tragedy. Maybe it’s just my military background, but I felt like I had to at least acknowledge the worst-case scenarios. But now that the moment is here, I realize that I never did face the worst of the worst possibilities. I never accepted the possibility that Alodia would die in childbirth.
I look over at Michelle, knowing she heard what I said. She meets my eyes. Her gaze is steady, but there’s concern that can’t be totally disguised.
“...You said the baby was doing fine...” I murmur. My emphasis is subtle. I can’t ask the question out loud. I don’t want to ask it where Alodia can hear me. I don’t want to ask it at all.
“Alodia’s vitals are concerning,” Michelle confirms. “Most likely due to the infection. But that can’t be dealt with until the baby is born. We have to focus on what we can do here and now. Alodia, it’s almost time, so we’re gonna get you into a good position. We’re going to try getting you upright since the baby’s coming breech. Sean, grab my phone, please. Rebecca, please grab that folding chair by the desk. Nurse Michealson, are you still there?”
“Still here, doctor,” the man’s voice on the other end assures her. “Let me know when you’ve got the mother in position.”
I feel Michelle is a photographer, posing us for the world’s weirdest family portrait as she directs us to get Alodia in position. I’m instructed to sit on the chair with my knees apart and let Alodia straddle my lap so I can support her from behind and help her keep her legs open. Sean and Estela kneel on either side, supporting her feet and ankles and giving her something to push against. I wrap one arm around her chest, taking her hand with the other.
“I’m right here, Princess,” I murmur into her ear. “I gotcha.”
“Jake…” She whimpers, her free hand shaking as she reaches back to caress my cheek with sweat-damp fingertips. “...She won’t die. River won’t die…”
“You’re right. She won’t. She’s gonna be just fine.”
“...I’m scared…”
“I know. But you got this. You’re not alone. We’re right here. You can do this.”
“Okay, Alodia, this is it.” Michelle grips Alodia’s knees, smiling encouragingly. “You’re almost through this. Remember you’ve got millions of years of instinct behind you, so don’t be afraid to trust it.”
Alodia nods, and I feel a wave of calm washing over both of us. There’s no more choice in the matter. Nature has taken over, swept up my wife and child, and there’s nothing for Alodia, River, or me to do but let the currents carry us to shore. I brush my wife’s ear with my lips.
“I love you more than anything, Alodia Rose Chandler,” I whisper.
“Deep breath, Alodia,” Michelle instructs, her eyes never leaving Alodia’s face. “And...push.”
I close my eyes as Alodia goes rigid in my arms, her hands squeezing me for dear life. I grip back, speaking whatever encouraging words I can come up with into her ear. It’s not like I have to think hard to come up with them. I’m barely thinking at all as I tell her that she’s the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever known, that I love her with my whole soul, that I’m right here with her, that I’m never going to leave her. I can’t take her pain away, and I can’t labor for her, but I’m riding the currents of it right beside her, responding to keep her feeling secure and protected. She pushes. She rests. Push. Rest. She stiffens with a weak cry, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“It hurts…”
“I know, Princess. It sucks, but I’m told having a baby tends to kinda smart.”
“Bottom’s getting ready to deliver, Alodia,” Michelle says. “It’s going to sting for a moment or two, but then the worst will be over. Need you to pull back a little, just small, gentle pushes.”
Alodia gathers her strength, and I try to add mine to hers. I dare to glance down, and catch a glimpse of tiny feet and legs. Then, a moment later, she’s here. My daughter is here, shrieking her little lungs out like she’s come out ready to fight the whole world.
Something halfway between a laugh and a sob tumbles out of me as I look down at the furious creature flailing and howling on the blanket at Michelle’s knees while she clamps and cuts the umbilical cord. She’s like something out of a horror movie, wrinkled and wet with blood and god knows what else, but she’s so goddamn beautiful. I kiss my wife’s cheek over and over, rocking her as gently as I can manage with all the emotion coursing through my veins.
“You did it, Princess. She’s here and she’s perfect…Princess…?” Her grip on my hand has begun to slacken. And just like that, elation turns to terror as my wife goes limp in my arms. “Alodia!”
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