Who: Briar Brooke
Where: Wicked's Rest State Park
When: Friday evening, 2/09
Warnings: A little existential
What:
New beginnings look like little valleys in unknown forests outside of an unknown town in the middle of winter. Briar is going to try, anyway.
“There you go.”
Briar patted gently at the mud at the base of the checker-mallow’s stem. It coated their fingers and palms but they didn’t pay it any mind. It wasn’t quite right. The sediment was just a little different, the temperature was a little cooler than it had been over the past decade, the surrounding plant life didn’t know them, and there was a breeze that smelled like a different kind of pine than what they knew back home. The little plant shivered.
Briar shivered, and their chest felt too tight they almost couldn’t breathe. “Don’t be like that. Your ancestors would have loved this place.”
Perhaps, but Briar couldn’t be certain of that. There was no way to be certain of an impossible hypothetical. The little flower’s ancestors were long gone. Its friends and family stood wilting in a field all the way across the country. They were the chosen one, uprooted and carted into an airplane, deposited in a new field in a new state with new mud and new pine and new everything. No other Oregon checkerbloom had ever taken root in this soil.
Briar sat cross-legged in front of the flower and traced a finger slowly over one of its last remaining petals, still clinging on despite the mountain frost. The shivering slowed, and stilled, and they both breathed a sigh. The tightness in Briar’s chest eased just the smallest amount. It didn’t matter whether or not this was possible, or whether or not anyone had tried. They were there, and they had to do their best.
They glanced around at the little valley they had chosen. The morning marine layer was still making its way over the seven peaks of mountains Briar couldn’t name yet, the fog slowly giving way to a breeze that tossed the tall grass around them. One of the mountains towered to their left. It almost looked like Mount Stuart, if they squinted. The ground was wet enough that the mud dripped off their hands when they pressed them into it. They couldn’t hear anyone, but the occasional whir of an airplane passing high above could be heard.
There was a lot to be learned about their new home. There was a lot Briar would have to apologize for, a lot of compromises to be made, a lot of discussions to be had as they moved forward. Their hands weaved through the tall grass and they made a promise to share, to never overwhelm. They would have to explore properly once the checker-mallow didn’t look quite so pale. Maybe there would be another Leshy poking out from behind the pines.
Maybe the two of them wouldn’t be alone. They let it be quiet for another moment, two moments, and found their hope once more.
“It’s going to be okay.” There was a soft certainty in their voice, something Briar would cling to until the moment they couldn’t anymore. “Just…don’t be invasive, okay?”
The little flower shook, a laugh, and Briar smiled bright for the first time since they’d uprooted their everything and moved across the country.
Even if Sherlock had been back for a while now, John still found it quite difficult to enter the flat at 221B Baker Street. Of course, he had promised himself to pay Mrs. Hudson a visit more often (especially after she had lectured him about manners and whatnot), but even then, there was something that kept John from going there as much as he would like to. Sherlock is, and was always going to be his best friend, but that sting of betrayal John had felt after Sherlock returned from the dead had left a small wound on his soul. It didn’t mattered how much he tried, John had a difficult time forgiving Sherlock for thinking he was dead - especially since so many other people actually knew the truth.
Either way, John avoided Baker Street. He didn’t go there more than necessary. To be perfectly honest to himself, John highly doubted that Sherlock understood how much pain he had brought to him - for 2 years, John had been living an extremely lonely life. Just like when he had returned from the war. Except this time, there were actually people there who cared about his well-being, it was just that John had been extremely tired of people pitying him. Every time Greg Lestrade or Mike Stamford had called him and asked him if he wanted to visit a pub or something, John had turned down the offer - it was just so obvious they pitied him and thought he would need the company. John had been able to take care of himself before, and he could just might as well do that again. Yes, he was being extremely selfish and didn’t even think for a moment that other people than him was coping with Sherlock’s death. You could say that John was being full of himself, and nobody pitied him as much as he himself did.
Things had changed though. In 2 years, a lot of things had changed with John, and even if he was extremely happy to realise that Sherlock was alive and well, he had promised himself that he wouldn’t be as dependent on him as before. Since his best friend’s miraculous return, John had only seen him a few times. For some reason, whenever John had tried to phone or send Sherlock a text message, he rarely got an answer. And when he did, Sherlock didn’t made a lot of sense - a lot less than usual, that is. He tried to not think about it though - John tried to focus on his own life, and at the moment, he was trying to be as happy as he possibly could by seeing this new woman who had been his company during Sherlock’s absence. Considering John hadn’t seen Sherlock very much lately, he also hadn’t really had the time or opportunity to tell him about her. But then again, John figured Sherlock would only see her as one of the many women John dated for a while, and then just broke up with him. Maybe he was right - maybe his days with Mary would come to an end soon. But until then, John was determined to be happy.
At least he was relatively happy until the day he received another phone call from a worried Mrs. Hudson. It didn’t take many seconds for her to tell John that Sherlock was missing. John had tried to calm her down by ensuring her that Sherlock was most likely just out on a case, or were trying to expand his homeless network, but it didn’t work. Mrs. Hudson enlightened John about the fact that Sherlock had been missing for at least 3 days. “Call Greg Lestrade - he’s a detective inspector and could find him faster than me." John had told her. This was, of course, not true. John was positive that if he just wanted to, he could track down Sherlock faster than any police officer in London. All those years of going on cases with Sherlock, John had managed to pick up a thing or two from the genius of a man. But after some nagging and complaints, Mrs. Hudson managed to convince John into going out and looking for Sherlock.
It was 20 minutes past noon, and John was sitting in a cab that drove him around London’s streets while he was looking out for his friend, but that obviously didn’t help, and soon enough it was going to be way too expensive to use the cab to go anywhere. So he decided to be dropped off by Victoria Station. With his phone flipped out, he quickly dialled down Sherlock’s number, hit “call” and brought it to his ear - listening carefully while he made his way down one of the nearby streets.
No answer - what a surprise. But no matter, within just 30 minutes, John had managed to look around and ask a few members of Sherlock’s homeless network to get a track of where Sherlock might be. The clues and tips lead him to a back alley near Hyde Park. John wasn’t all that familiar with the surroundings, even if the park was quite popular for normal everyday people, but this back alley gave him an uneasy feeling. After giving it a quick look, he noticed a door into one of the buildings in which he was sure to find Sherlock. By the sight of it, John was already starting to realise why he would find his friend here. He hoped he was wrong, but what he was hoping wasn’t going to help Sherlock. With a quick look over his shoulder, John tried the handle and noticed that it was locked, but by judging the state it was in, it was no match for John to bust open. After a few hard pushes, John did manage to bust the door open and it lead him into a very dull and dark room with no furniture and no living thing in sight. He closed the door behind him, leaving him in almost complete silence. John listened carefully as he took a few steps into the room - each step making an echoing noise. Then he stood still for a moment as he brought up his pocket flashlight and turned it on to be able to see better.
The room was indeed very empty, and for a moment John was certain he was looking at the wrong place, but then he could hear a very, very silent groaning sound - coming from another room nearby. He looked around again and realised that the there were a few doors leading to other parts of the building. John figured that this must be a some kind of a storage room. And an abandoned one, that is. John moved further inside to follow the groaning sound that seemed to be getting somewhat louder the closer he got to to one of the doors. He reached out a hand and tried to handle - it swung open and lead him into another equally dark room, but this one wasn’t empty. From what John could see in the light of the flashlight, a couple of bodies were laying on the ground in the corners, and some were sitting up against the walls, but oh. That smell. In the same moment he had opened the door an incredibly nasty and powerful scent swept over him, and he had to let go of the handle to cover his nose and mouth. John let out a disgusted sound as he called out for his friend. “Ugh. Sherlock..? You in here somewhere?” He took a few steps and looked around the new room. He quickly realised that he was standing in the middle of a drug den, and he was hoping he wasn’t going to find Sherlock in here, but he had to look. After all, he was a Doctor and Sherlock’s friend - John had a responsibility, and even if he had a hard time forgiving Sherlock for everything he did in the past, he couldn’t just leaving him here. If he actually was here. He called out for him again. “Sherlock?”
Santana had only been in her new house for a week, and she was still in the early stages of getting everything unpacked and in its place. It was her first time living on her own. She’d never lived alone in her twenty-seven years of life. She’d gone from her parents house to college with a roommate to marrying her college sweetheart. She’d thought she and Rachel were going to go the distance, but walking in on her riding reverse cowgirl on Jesse in her dressing room had killed those dreams instantly. She’d moved back in with her parents until she could sell the house she and Rachel had lived in together in Virginia. Living at home had gotten really old really fast. So she’d decided to buy a townhouse in Denton, Maryland because she wanted something quiet and far enough from big cities that she lived in a small town, but close enough to travel there if she needed.
She’d insisted on doing everything in her house herself though she was already regretting it. It wasn’t that she wasn’t handy. She’d taken a few classes when she and Rachel had gotten their house together, but this was different when you were alone and the house wasn’t an older built one. There was a smaller, hometown hardware store near where she lived, which was pretty much her only option since the closest big hardware stores was twenty-two miles away. She walked inside, a list in her hand, and started to look around.
Finn just got his first real job at the hardware store and had been working there just over a few months, because of Burt, he’d always done well about things that were meant to be handy, which he was grateful for, even if having a stepfather wasn’t ideal in his life. Finn had lived in Denton all his life and always figured that he knew everyone there was to know, until a new customer walked in the store, but not just any customer, this girl did not look like she belonged in their store, nor did she look like she knew what she was doing.
“Can I help you with anything?” he asked, approaching her cautiously as sometime people shot him down quickly at the offer. Finn was much taller than the other girl, no surprise there since he was taller than more anyone, and he looked down at her anticipating a reply that would either send him walking away with his tail between his legs, or give him something to do on a shit that was less than exciting for the day.
Glancing up at the voice, Santana found herself looking into the eager, earnest face of a boy that looked high school age. She looked back at her list and then to him again. “Um...well I have a list of things I need. So I could definitely use some help.” She handed him her list of supplies. It would get her in and out of the store a lot faster. Plus there were an item or two on there that she had no idea what they were.
Finn took the list and gave it a once over before motioning for the woman to follow him a few aisles over, “what kind of project are you doing?” he asked, curiously given the look of the list it didn't seem obvious and he grabbed one of the items before continuing on to another aisle… and after a second his curiosity took over more so, “You're not from around here, are you?”
“No, I’m not from here. I just moved to townhouses here in Denton, and I am trying to mount my television to the wall. I also need to put together a bookshelf, and put some shelves on the walls. I have a new coffee table. Basically, I just have a lot of small projects around the house and like no tools,” Santana explained, hating that she sounded a little like a helpless female.
Finn nodded a little surprised, “Townhouses? Like… white ones?” he asked grabbing another of the listed items for the woman before continuing on. His eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to remember where something was, but quickly recovered, “Moving sucks,” he made small talk, “My mom and I just moved in with my stepdad and his son and I swear it took me a week to get all of our stuff situated since my stepdad is more of a car guy than a household guy.”
Santana nodded. “Yes, I live in a white townhouse…” She tried not to be weirded out that he knew that, but maybe it was just a guess. “There’s like seven communities with white townhouses. So I guess that’s a fair question,” she joked. “Moving does suck. I hate it, and I’m hoping not to have to do it again for a long time, but it’s nice that you helped your mom and stepdad with their house.” She gave him a genuine smile.
“I’m not trying to be a creep,” he said, switching the arms he was using to carry the things he had gathered for her thus far, “I live in one, so it was more of a fair question than a weird one, I swear.” Except he cringed because it had been such a weird question that he probably shouldn’t have asked anyone, let alone a pretty customer that would think he was a creepy dude. “Just another aisle over then I’ll ring you up.”
She could tell he was a little embarrassed, and she decided to cut him some slack. “You live in one too? Which ones? I’m over off of Blue Heron Drive.” She doubted that they were close, and given how awkward he was, she didn’t think he was likely to show up. “Thanks for the help. I was a little lost when I came in.”
“No way,” Finn grinned, “I live there too, see that’s why I was curious!” This made him seem like way less of a freak with the interesting coincidence, or maybe not, but he’d go with that in his head for the sake of not wanting to be a creep. He walked to the register after grabbing the last item on her list and began to ring up the items one by one, “If you need any help with this stuff I could totally lend a hand,” way to be more of a freak, Hudson, something about pretty girls always made him lose whatever cool he thought he had.
“You’re like a real boyscout aren’t you?” Santana asked, slightly charmed by his eagerness to help. She could totally tell that this kid like helped old ladies across the street and got cats out of trees and shit, stuff people only did in fifties sitcoms. “I will keep that in mind if I ever see you around.”
“Uh, sure?” he replied, not sure what that meant since he was definitely too old to be a boy scout, or at least he was pretty sure he was too old for it. He focused on ringing up her items and then read off the item total so she could pay, “You will… see me around… because it’s a thing that happens around here, seeing people, and stuff,” he rambled, muttering the last part of the sentence knowing that he was not scoring cool points, not at all.
Santana wondered if that was really true, that she’d continuously run into the people she met here in this town. She guessed it made sense. That would be why she moved here. “Right, the whole small town part of living here…” She gave him a little smile. “So I guess I’ll see you around then...” She peered at his name tag. “...Finn.”
Finn nodded, handing the woman he reciept, “Plus working here means I know everyone even better,” he tilted his head a little, and smiled, figuring that was his invitation of sorts for her to come back if she needed anything else later on. “Have a good day…” he paused, hoping for her name.
“I’m Santana,” she supplied easily, taking her receipt and her bag of supplies. She had a lot of work ahead of her if she wanted to get her place ready in time for Thanksgiving. She was having friends over to her new place.
“Santana,” he repeated with a nod of his head, as it wasn’t a name he expected, but it was a pretty one nonetheless, “I’ll be seeing you around then, Santana,” Finn added in punching in the last of the numbers for the register so he could help the next customer.
Santana gave him one last smile then headed out of the store.
Ryan has to calm himself and take huge breaths when arrives at Eva’s residence. This is the night. He’s waited for this for a long while and he’s ready to really prove to Eva the type of man that he is. “Now or never Ryan.” He tells himself as he was getting out of his car with a bouquet of roses in his hands. He walks slowly to her door and hesitates for a moment before finding the courage to ring the doorbell. Ryan keeps the dashing smile on his face as he waits for the beautiful Eva to answer the door.
Derek has never done this before. He never brought a woman or anyone to his special place. This is new and very important to him but only because he knows how important Josephine is. The drive didn’t take long. They were there in 10 minutes. “We’re going to the top floor of this building.” He tells her and help her out of the car. Derek is smiling in the elevator and when they arrive, he took Josephine by the hand and lead her out. The place has been transformed into a garden, much different than what it was before he put his money into the place. “This is my safe haven. Do you like it?”
Derek tries not to go crazy and drive like a fool to Josephine’s home. Call him crazy but he missed her. Work was still crazy and any time that he gets to spend with Josephine is a win in his eyes. Thanks to the cellar at his home, he brought along a bottle of the finest Champagne he owned. It may be crazy for him to be attached to someone that may or may not want the same things, but he finds that he couldn’t help himself. He liked her and wants to be with her, consequences be damned. Once at the door, Derek rang the doorbell and stands casually by the door with the bottle of Champagne in his hand and a smile that could light up the entire neighborhood. “Hello beautiful.” He greets her.
Tyson checks looks down at his phone, checking to see if he has the right address. He finds the door number to Eva’s apartment, smiles and knocks on her door. It’s funny how at ease he feels this night. Eva is sweet and cool, and he’s looking forward to getting to know the petite woman beyond the 4 walls of Club Ardour. Tonight is going to be good. He can feel it in his heart that it’s going to be. After making sure that he has all that he needs, including the bouquet of roses that he bought for this date, he rings the doorbell and waits patiently for Eva to answer it.
Derek keeps glancing down at his watch as he sips on a glass of rum. After nine minutes, he gulps down the rum and walks to the basement, tapping his foot as he waits for Eva to show up. He’s a little anxious if he is being honest. She’s beautiful and a great conversationalist. Those two reasons alone was a turn on to him. He’s not expecting much from this tour. He’s not that desperate for sex...yet. Hopefully, they’ll get along and if things take a turn for the sexy, then he was not going to stop things either.
