Beth and Jay were well schooled in nightmares, flashbacks, sleep paralysis, and panic attacks; they had routines by now. Jay’s captors drowned him in darkness. Free, they slept next to the light switch, several flashlights, and a window that let the morning light flood in. Their captors bound Jay to a metal pipe, locking Jay’s spine in a ramrod-straight stress position that they reverted to in flashbacks, afraid to bruise imaginary bonds. Beth massaged Jay’s back until they could finally curl up and relax and realize they were home.
That night it wasn’t the light or the pain or the white-hot, panting fear. It was the subject of the nightmare that send Jay over the edge.
“They…they had you,” they sobbed, Jay’s breath coming in fits and starts as their chest heaved under the weight of eyeless terror. “The Faceless Men, they took you too.”
Beth closed her eyes and rested her forehead on Jay’s, willing her steady heartbeat to lend strength to theirs.
Jay simply clutched their hands to their chest, their fingers splayed and straight as splints.
“They’d already…they’d already hurt me too much and I couldn’t…I couldn’t save you.”
“It’s okay, Jay-bird.” Beth pushed a strand of blond hair off Jay’s forehead. “That didn’t happen. It’s not real.”
“I KNOW!” Jay said, rocking slightly on the bed. “That’s the worst part of it. How can something so fictional, something that I know, know, know is false…how can it break me? Did they break me so thoroughly that I won’t ever be whole again?”
Beth didn’t know what to say to that, but she knew what to do.
By the time she got everything ready, Jay was already dressed: black shirt, khaki pants, canvas jacket, everything perfectly calculated to let him disappear in a crowd.
“Let’s go somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Why don’t you take a look?” Beth gestured to the only other piece of furniture in the room, a solid chestnut desk with two sleek computer monitors perched on top. Jay fumbled toward the desk’s rolling chair as she handed him an address. Their hands hovered over the keys, both hesitant and reverent: Jay had built the workstation from the ground up, ordering parts from all over the globe and spending sleepless nights meticulously hardwiring machery by hand.
They took a deep breath.
***
Time is a funny thing.
It took shorter than Beth expected and longer than Jay ever hoped for Jay to hack into the museum's security system.
Beth watched from the cracked bedroom door as Jay pushed the chair back every few minutes, cursing loudly and rotating his right thumb with a grimace. They stretched out their fingers, but their fingers still curled inward along a spider web of nearly invisible cracks. Those fingers shook now, not from hesitance, but from muscle weakness. Every so often, Jay’s left forefinger suddenly depressed, mussing up his lines of pristine code. They couldn’t stand the pace, the pain, the unbearable knowledge that a few months or a year ago this would have been easy for them.
When those thoughts got too loud, Beth interrupted with drinks: herbal tea for her and a grape Crush for Jay.
Finally, they could see it. Jay memorized the security protocols, the pedestrian traffic flows, the entrances and exits where they could escape unseen, the possible approaches where the Faceless Men could come after them, or worse, Beth.
Beth put a hand on Jay’s shoulder. It was time to go.
***
Time is a funny thing.
Jay knew it took hours to drive to the museum. They assumed that their brain must have catalogued the stoplights and pavement patterns and road noise somewhere, but as they gazed out the window, they just seemed to phase out of existence.
Everything went black.
Jay heard the monotonous stomp of the Faceless Mens’ feet, tried to drown out the low drone of their voices as they demanded the same information over and over again, failed to escape the relentless pain of their blows, tasted the iron tang of blood.
Then they were there and Beth opened the passenger door.
***
Jay watched the ground as Beth led them toward the atrium. They were sure that if they paid close enough attention they would be prepared, they would be able to see if any of the feet around them detached from the crowd to attack or persue. Jay watched Keds and sensible business flats and garishly red snakeskin high heels over marble floors until Beth tapped their shoulder and Jay looked up.
In front of them was the most beautiful vase they had ever seen.
It was graphite gray, Jay’s favorite color, and old, but somehow more vulnerable than ancient-looking. Jay reached out, wanting to touch it through the glass, but then drew back.
It was broken! Completely shattered! Sometime in its life, this beautiful vase had been smashed into piece after piece. It’s flaws weren’t hidden; they were highlighted. Whoever had lovingly molded the vase back together marked all of its broken seams with bright lines of gold that sparkled against the original gray.
“It’s called Kintsugi or Kintsukuori,” Beth said. “It’s an ancient Japanese tradition. The artisans don’t just repair broken pottery; they put gold in the lacquer between the cracks to put that item’s unique history on display.”
She smiled. “I like it because it means nothing in the entire world is stronger than that pot. Someone broke it into pieces and it’s still more beautiful than ever.”
Crowds of tourists moved around Jay and Beth as they watched the display. Jay didn’t turn to look at Beth. They didn’t laugh, cry, or smile. But after a time, they moved closer and threaded the trembling fingers of one hand through hers. In midmorning light, the scars there looked gold.
***
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tw: Past abuse, nightmares, panic attacks, crying, whipping mention, fear of wings being ripped off, magical powers, rough housing,
Comfort
Marlie woke up screaming. She fluttered her wings attempting to catch her breath. The lack of pain in her wings caused some relief, her nightmare replaying again and again.
Whumper laughed, their voice mocking and proud. “How weak are you? A member of the fae too weak to defend herself against the simple human. So disgraceful, you do know what happens when you disappoint me?” A whip slashed Marlie across the back, letting the girl crumple to the ground before kicking her in the chest. “No food this week. I guess you don’t care enough.”
“Marlie? Sweetie, come back to me. You’re home and safe. Away from humans. You are away from them.” Caretaker tried to console the faery in her care, sickened by the sight of her younger sister cowering in the corner, begging to keep her wings. “Marlie, can you hear me?” The faery shook her head, curling in on herself even further. Caretaker frowned worriedly, her cross shaped pupils watching as Marlie continued to beg words becoming less and less coherent.
Dawn frowned, using her magic to bring her sister down from her panic. “Dawn?” Marlie’s quiet voice filled the older faery with relief. Said faery nodded, holding out her arms. Her sister’s eyes welled up again as she quickly embraced her big sister, small whimpers escaped her. A hand settled on her rust colored hair as Dawn stroked her head. “Y-you can hold me. I- you’re safe, not a human.” Marlie mumbled, curling in on herself. As a gentle hand brushed her back she relaxed, feeling her eyelids droop again as she drifted off to sleep.
The morning sun shined on the sisters lightly, causing the small and pale one to stir and cuddle closer to her dark-skinned sister. Marlie slowly opened her eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness. She leaned closer to Dawn, sighing deeply before her bedroom door swung open, revealing a teammate.
“Marlie! Good to see you awake! Get Dawn up and we can have breakfast together.” They smiled, and Marlie flinched back. She nodded mutely, shaking her sister awake and pointing to Teammate 1.
Dawn noticed Marlie’s haunted look, standing with the short faery before smiling at Teammate 1. “What is it? Everything alright?” A nodded, explaining they just wanted to eat breakfast with the two of them.
Marlie stiffened, taking a deep and shaky breath as she held Dawn’s arm tightly. Leader smiled at A and Dawn, surprised when Marlie sat down. “Marlie! Are you feeling better?” Leader was gentle for a combat faery, their tall and muscular frame still made Marlie weary. Unlike Dawn, a healing faery who had soft features that contradicted her strong mind and outgoing nature. Marlie nodded, staring at the bowl of various berries and nuts.
The gears in Marlie’s brown eyes shifted as she hesitantly looked around the table. A and B were messing around with each other while Leader talked to Dawn in a hushed tone. Quietly, Marlie picked up her spoon, taking a bite of fresh fruit. It tasted amazing, comforting her nerves as she continued her breakfast. Leader was proud of the successful rescue attempt. Marlie could tell they needed her to start inventing again, the anxiousness in her friends and Dawn’s repeated healing patience.
A and B were both poking at each other, slowly getting more physical. Marlie stopped eating, she knew they were holding back. “Y-you can hurt me. Just not each other please!” Marlie stood between them, her body being thrown to the side before the rough housing stopped and Dawn was at her side, eyes full of concern.
“Marlie, no. You don’t need to be hurt. A and B just need to be careful when they mess around. Do you want to get some more food or go to your room?” Dawn helped her off the ground, guiding her to the side and to the living room. “I know I’m only a few hours older than you, but it is my job to take care of you.”
Marlie nodded, leaning into her sister’s side. “Can I eat a few more bites before I go into my room?” Dawn nodded, walking the short faery to the kitchen where she ate.
