#maetuckoneshot

[retvenkos]

sugar

Tuck Everlasting - A Mae and Jesse Tuck Story.

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 11

Summary: “Jesse, do you have the sugar?” Mae started on making a second pie; one Miles, Rose, and their tiny Thomas could take home with them at the end of the day, after finishing up in town and having dinner with the rest of them.

The small cottage in the wood was full of light and sound, laughter emerging from the open window, the smell of a baking pie wafting outwards along with it. Joy was no stranger to the Tucks, in those days, and the smells and sights were not uncommon. For the past four years, the most pure form of joy had descended upon the family. In that time, Jesse had found his calling in life, Miles had married, Angus had strengthened relationships with his family and the nearby town, and Mae had become a doting grandmother.

All was perfect and beyond compare.

“Jesse, do you have the sugar?” Mae started on making a second pie; one Miles, Rose, and their tiny Thomas could take home with them at the end of the day, after finishing up in town and having dinner with the rest of them.

Jesse didn’t respond, and Mae could hear hushed, childish laughter behind her. 

“Jesse?”

More laughter. Mae turned around to see Jesse holding a two year old Thomas, the little boy licking sugar off of his tiny hands. When they saw Mae staring, both of their eyes went wide. Thomas made an endearing sound of shock and lowered his hands.

“You are a terrible influence, Jesse Tuck.”

“But you love me, Ma.” Jesse said, a smile growing on his face. Mae couldn’t help but grin at her cheeky son and Thomas looked at them both with big, brown eyes.

“Put the sugar in the pan—” Mae crossed the small kitchen, grabbing Thomas from Jesse’s hands “—I will take care of this one.”

Thomas, forever affectionate, hugged Mae as she held him in her arms. “Sorry,” he mumbled into her dress, his words still babble-like, but his comprehension and vocabulary growing with everyday.

Mae shook her head, love for the boy warming her heart. “It’s okay, Thomas. You just wanted some sugar, huh?” The little boy nodded and Mae pushed his dark hair off of his brow, trying in vain to fix his messy, curly locks. “I’m gonna put you down, now, my little duckling. It’s almost time for the first pie to be done.”

Thomas clapped his chubby hands and mumbled an “okay” as Mae set him down on the kitchen floor. Keeping an eye on her grandchild, she went over to where Jesse was mixing the filling, peeking over his shoulder to make sure he had the proper measurements.

“Maybe just a pinch more sugar, Jesse.”

“You always say that,” Jesse teased, looking at his mother, “and then it’s too sweet for Miles.”

“You’d know better than I would,” Mae relented, one hand going to pat Thomas’ head, who had just grabbed onto the back of her skirts, trying to see what the grown ups were talking about. Mae looked down at Thomas, smiling sweetly, “You’re father thinks my pies are too sweet. But you seem to like extra sugar!”

“Uncle Jesse thinks Miles is crazy.” Jesse put down the spoon he was using to mix the pie filling and crouched down to Thomas’ height, tickling him in the ribs. The two boys laughed and Mae rolled her eyes, taking the filling and spooning it into the crust she had already prepared.

“You’re more like your brother than you think, Jesse.”

“So, one day I’ll be old and hate pie, too?”

“Well,” Mae sighed, “one day you’ll grow up and have kids of your own. Then you’ll leave the extra sugar to them.”

Jesse looked at baby Thomas, who was playing with Jesse’s shoelaces and tugging on his pant leg. Thomas smiled and Jesse bopped him on the nose. “Nah”—he shook his head, his smile suddenly wistful—“I don’t think so. But I’ll be the best uncle that ever lived.”

He scooped up Thomas in his arms and lifted him high into the air, both of them laughing, their sounds of joy echoing through the house and escaping out the window, calling to the rest of the wood.

[retvenkos]

oblivion

Tuck Everlasting - Angus x Mae, angst

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 17

Summary: Angus’ breathing was going ragged, and he reached for something to latch onto - something that could ground him in this reality, this unforgiving and long life he was to live.

The rocking chair moved back and forth on it’s own, the gentle wind from the opened window pushing into action, holding and comforting someone who was not there. Angus Tuck, its owner, kneeled on the floor, his bent bent and head bowed. He did not seem to notice the chill, or hear the tinkling of the wind chimes that sat by the door. He looked down at the floor, closed off to the world around him, as he examined what lay in front of him.

Clothing made for a baby girl, no larger than the size of his forearm, lay scattered on the floor around him; little socks, minuscule mittens, dresses of soft cotton, and hats of itchy wool. The clothing sat in front of him, newly made and never worn, too small for anyone who remained.

It was ghost clothing, now, details of a person who never was.

Angus stared at it, tears welling in his eyes, trying to reconcile with the fact that these clothes, made for a child, would never be worn by who they were made for.

How many hours had Mae stayed up late, burning the candle long after the sun had gone down, sewing and knitting; fashioning an entire wardrobe for the baby that was in her daughter in-law’s stomach? How many times had she sat across from Angus, asking him what color would go best? How many days had she taken Rose’s hands in her own, smiled, and asked what she would name the baby (a girl, she was sure of it)?

Anna, had been her response.

Angus had always wanted a daughter. A granddaughter would have changed his world.

Angus’ breathing was going ragged, and he reached for something to latch onto - something that could ground him in this reality, this unforgiving and long life he was to live.

His rough hands brushed against a baby blanket, a small but sturdy piece of work that reminded him of all those years ago, when he had tucked his son’s into bed, ruffling their hair before the fell asleep. Angus picked it up carefully, and when the cloth unraveled to show a single name, embroidered across it, he clutched it to his chest, allowing himself to heave with emotion.

Anna.

She was going to be Miles’ little girl, before Rose had left, taking all their joys with her. He could already see her in his mind’s eye - light hair like her uncle, dark eyes like her father, a soft and kind smile like her mother. She was going to be the sky of a sunny day - clear, with a few fluffy clouds around her, cheerful and full of life.

He started to cry, and his tears fell on the blanket, wetting the fabric.

The blanket was a brilliant yellow - like the sun that used to shine above them, its rays filtering through the trees, dappling the ground and making the earth look like the coat of a fawn - beautiful, serene, and youthful. It was soft and warm, like a sweet embrace at the end of a long day, arms that wrap around you and embrace you for a long time, remind you it was going to be okay. It was made for her - the little girl that was going to bring so much into their everlasting lives.

It was. What was to become of it, now? Where would all of this clothing go? What would he do with these hopes, now shattered and broken?

Angus couldn’t answer. All he could do was hold the baby blanket and cry.

And what of Thomas, that little boy who had been the best of them all? He had his uncle’s taste for adventure, his father’s wonder of the world, and his mother’s belief in the goodness of others. Where was that goodness, now? Where was her belief in the family that had always loved her, always cradled her when came to them, in need of something she could not find elsewhere?

It was on the wind, now. 

Lost to oblivion.

Would any of them see that part their family again?

They wouldn’t feel whole again, if they didn’t.

They would be broken into pieces - scattered like the clothing around him.

Mae found him sobbing, his body shaking with the effort of grieving, and she kneeled down next to him. She said nothing to her husband, the sadness etched into her face more telling than any words she could string together, but held him.

The two cried together, their bodies molding against one another, their tears staining the others clothing, their grief mixing and compounding the moment, solidifying it in the sands of time, creating a point in time where they’re longing for what might have been was everlasting.

[retvenkos]

forgetting

Tuck Everlasting - A Miles and Mae Tuck Story

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 18

Summary: He had forever to forget - forever to repent and wish things had been some other way. But to be without his son already was more than he could bear. How could he go through this life, forgetting details about the family he once had, until they were completely lost to time?

The silence of the early morning was deafening. It was part of why Miles left.

In that farmhouse Miles had once called his own, a little boy named Thomas used to rise with the sun and pad through the house in search of a new book to read, his footsteps and breathing making the house feel alive and full. Miles would be pulled from his slumber by the sounds his little boy had made, and when he opened his eyes, a pregnant Rose would be sleeping next to her, her expression peaceful and calm. Miles would kiss her on the forehead and go down the stairs, catching Thomas as he shuffled through the living room, his eyes sleepy but crinkling in the corners with a smile.

He would call out to Miles, then, his voice like...

His voice...

The silence that surrounded Miles Tuck made his heart ache and his eyes sting.

Thomas. A little boy. Six years old and short of his age. He had a mop of messy, black curls. He had wide, wonder-struck eyes. He smiled and it was like the world stilled around him. He would scowl as the looked at a grandfather clock and Miles would smooth the wrinkles in between his eyebrows with his thumb.

Thomas.

He had been his little boy - his whole world, his mother Miles’ sun and moon and stars above.

His voice...

His...

Miles couldn’t remember his voice.

What had he sounded like, laughing when climbing trees with his Uncle? What words did he stutter at, unable to form all the syllables in his young mouth? If Thomas saw him on the street and called out to his father, would he be able to recognize his voice? Would he know his boy, if he were right there, reaching out with a voice Miles could not remember?

Hot, salty tears fell on his cheeks and slid down his jaw. The whites of his eyes were turning an angry red from being pushed to their limit. His sobs came out harsh and uneven, his throat rubbed raw and bleeding.

How could he have allowed himself to forget something so precious and full of life? To forget so soon... He had forever to forget - forever to repent and wish things had been some other way. But to be without his son already was more than he could bear. How could he go through this life, forgetting details about the family he once had, until they were completely lost to time?

His Rose... His Thomas... His Anna...

Their voices...

He cried to fill the silence.

Mae found him and put her arms around him, rubbing his back in calming circles, brushing the tears from his face with her thumb, whispering to fill the silence that taunted him. She couldn’t understand his words while they were broken and incomplete, but she understood his sobs the way any mother would.

“I’m here, Miles. It’ll be okay.”

[retvenkos]

rain

Tuck Everlasting - A Mae Tuck Story.

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 19

Summary: Mae couldn’t accept this was to be her life, and the storm raged on around her, indicative of her turbulent thoughts, churning in an endless and unforgiving ocean. 

Outside, the rain fell and the wind howled. Mae heard it hitting the room with an intensity that made the wood groan above her. All around her, the sounds of a tempest raged, louder than any other storm they had seen for an entire year. Nature was loud when it was at it’s most powerful; it’s how it asserted it’s dominance over the rest of the earths creatures.

Mae sat in a dining room chair, unfazed by the pouring rain and the rumbling thunder. The entire world could drown, and she would remain. The wind could buffet her where it pleased; none of it’s whiplash could hurt her, anymore.

Mae wondered where things had gone wrong.

Not too long ago, her house was full of life. The chatter of her boys, the laughter of her grandson, the stern voice of her husband - all of it was full and loud.

Had it been here, now, it would have been loud enough to drown out this ceaseless storm.

Hadn’t those years been the best of her life? Surrounded and completely enveloped by her family - like a warm, thick quilt that was thrown around her shoulders. There had been little to argue about... little to worry over. The Tucks had found their place in the world; Treegap, New Hampshire was their destiny - they could feel it in the deep recesses of their mind, those hallowed places where something otherworldly reached out to grab them by the hand and guide them through life.

Here they had found shelter and work. Love and life. Purpose and freedom. 

Then they had lost it all, bit by bit, piece by piece. They only had a few choices, anymore. The spring has seen to that.

The spring... who would have guessed it could change so much? Who would have thought that a single drink could set theirs lives on a completely different course - one that stretched into infinity?

Thunder clapped and the house flashed with light.

It was almost impossible to fathom that this was the way her life was to turn out. She had dreamed of growing old, one day, of having silver hair that reached to her belt and a voice that sounded like sandpaper. She had dreamed of seeing Jesse grow into a capable man with a youthful smile but old eyes. She had dreamed of Miles and Rose having a large family - four children, at least - little ones that could turn him soft for good, smoothing his rough edges until they no longer existed.

Rose had cut them apart, leaving Miles all jagged edged and turning her picture perfect family into a scattered shard of glass, a mosaic waiting to be made by someone with gentle enough hands.

Mae couldn’t accept this was to be her life, and the storm raged on around her, indicative of her turbulent thoughts, churning in an endless and unforgiving ocean.

She held steadfast to the belief that one day the skies would clear, her thoughts would slow, and things would become clear again. One day, this heartache and ruin would be in the past, a bygone storm that the sun dried any trace of. She had to believe because it was all she had left.

Until then, the storm poured down with the fervor of a hurricane, it’s droplets staining the windows like tears, it’s winds whistling like cries, it’s anger and pain all too familiar to the Tucks.

[retvenkos]

will be

Tuck Everlasting - Mae Tuck x Angus Tuck, fluff

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 13

Summary: Her husband hummed a familiar tune, and Mae allowed herself to enjoy the quiet moment between them, this simple pleasure that the two of them shared. The night was full, and the two of them lived.

Living was an action, not a state of being.

With every passing day, Mae Tuck understood that more and more. How many years had it been since they found they could not die? It was before Thomas... before Miles had gotten married... Before the whole town seemed to set sick and they were fine...

Maybe it was when Jesse had fallen off the roof that winter...

Perhaps they had known, quietly and without saying so, when Angus has that accident while riding a year after having moved to Treegap.

7 years. 

That seemed right.

A lot had happened, in those seven years. Happiness had come to them in spades, their lives made brighter by Treegap and that secret stream. It gave the family hope that perhaps their fate was not as bad as they feared. If the rest of forever was like these last 7 years, they could live with very few qualms.

But Mae could feel the winds of change in her bones.

Even though she could no longer feel the ache of what was to be a stormy day in the leg she had twisted when she was young, there were still some things she could feel on a deeper level - something she couldn’t explain. Mae had that feeling now; a storm was coming, just starting to brew on the horizon, and there was no telling when it would come.

But for now, she would hold onto these precious, happy days. The world always gave very few, and she would hold as many as she could in her arms and sewn into her skirts. She would be content now, and worry when the storm was overhead. It was preparation, enjoying these happy moments in her tiny cottage in the wood.

“What are you thinking about?” Angus walked over to his wife, looking at her wistful expression as she stared into the fire, hair falling into her face.

“Our lives.” Mae’s eyes cleared as she looked at him, and Angus pushed a lock of hair out her her face. His hand lingered there, right outside the apple of her cheeks, and the two smiled at each other. “They’ve been beautiful.”

“And they will be.” Angus said, earnestly. He offered her his hand, “Let me show you.”

Mae shook her head at her husband’s antics (just like he was the day they met), huffing a breath but standing, anyway, placing her hand in his.

Angus smiled, a youthful twinkle in his eyes, and brought her close, leading her is a slow, comforting dance. Mae rested her head against her husbands chest. His heart beat was strong and steady, right there alongside her. She smiled, and some of her years melted away.

Her husband hummed a familiar tune, and Mae allowed herself to enjoy the quiet moment between them, this simple pleasure that the two of them shared. The night was full, and the two of them lived.

“If the rest of forever was this way, I’d live a wonderful life.”

“Darling Mae, we’ll make it that way.”

[retvenkos]

three

Tuck Everlasting - A Mae x Angus and Baby!Miles Story.

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 9

Summary: “Shhh... Miles.” Mae came to stand over her life’s work, still in its fledgling state, with a twinkle in her eye. “It’s time for bed now, my love.”

At three years old, Miles Tuck was his parents’ whole world.

Miles had been sickly baby; pale and skinny from the moment he was born. The midwife had told a tired Mae that she didn’t believe he would live long, with how early he had come. He had been birthed two months too soon, and she would have to keep him as close to her as she could, if she wished for him to grow at all.

They had prayed, that night, their voices hushed as their candles burned low into the next day.

The candle still burned low and late into the evening, but their small home was now filled with laughter and joy. At three years old, Miles Tuck was a happy child, his face no longer wan and blurry eyed, but flush with blood and bright with wonder.

That night, after the sun had gone down, Miles had begged his mother and father to take him outside. There they stargazed and caught fireflies, their smiles reflecting the light of the moon - gentle and full. After a few hours, Mae held her little boy (still small, but growing stronger) in her arms and told him it was time for bed. Miles protested, but a yawn escaped him, and he giggled embarrassedly before agreeing and walking inside.

The family walked inside and Miles, his dark locks mussed, dragged his baby blanket across the floor, his steps at three years old still a little uncertain. Angus walked closely behind him, ready to catch him if he stumbled, and Mae followed, a content smile on her face.

“Up!” Angus lifted his baby boy gently and set him down on his bed, cradling Miles in his strong arms as though he could break. Helping him into his night wear, Angus listened as Miles babbled on about how the fireflies were stars once, but they loved the trees so much they left the sky to come closer to the ground. Angus nodded at all the right moments, in awe of the simplistic, yet beautiful way in which his son saw the world.

All these thoughts, at such a young age? Angus looked at his small, vulnerable progeny and knew that he would change the world.

“Shhh... Miles.” Mae came to stand over her life’s work, still in its fledgling state, with a twinkle in her eye. “It’s time for bed now, my love.”

Miles looked at his parents with all the wonder of the world in his large, brown eyes. He nodded, then, falling silent with a reverence that made his parents’ hearts twist with love.

Angus gave his son a hug, marveling at how tiny Miles was in his arms. He stood and moved to the end of the bed, watching fondly as Mae tucked her baby in, kissing the top of his head and smoothing his hair. She joined him, and the two watched as sleep quickly overtook their child.

He was so small; hands curled over the edge of a quilt, toes curling in on themselves. He was so small, and yet he was everything to Mae and Angus.

How long had Mae cried, after the midwife had taken her leave and she as left with a child, doomed to leave her? How many times had Angus looked at his boy and thought that it could be the last?

They had him, now, and they would be happy to live with him this way forever.

“Nothing could ever pull me away from our boy.” Angus grabbed his wife’s hand, his eyes never leaving his son. Mae smiled and leaned against him, a warmth spreading through her that could only be described as love. “He’s ours, darling Mae.”

He kissed his wife and she held him close. “He’s home. Nothing can change that.”

Nothing.