Chapter Text
Polly sighed as she put her hair into a ponytail and turned the faucet on hot, letting the sink full of a dinner’s day-old dishes steam and fill. A squeeze of dish soap soon followed the water, a bubbling brew of washed away oatmeal and, since she’d pulled a late shift at the pharmacy that day, some form of yellow goo the five-minute meal box had deigned to call “indian”.
The evening sun streamed in through the window above the sink, letting in the cool autumn air and turning the hand-wrinkling job from tedium into something relatively pleasant.
Polly hummed as she worked, the theme song from a movie back in her childhood, as her sponge pulled soapy water up from the sink, making a squeaking noise as it rubbed across a yellow flower print bowl, and let the now dirtier water spill back in.
Her eyes were half-closed, enjoying the feeling of a faint wind on her face and the still lingering petrichor of a ten minute shower earlier that afternoon.
The pharmacy was relaxed that day as well - not only was Friday the least busy day of the week, a good portion of their regulars for the day had called in asking to get their medicines on Saturday instead. The only person she could recall even showing up was a mid-thirties man collecting meds for his mother.
After her shortened shift had ended, she’d taken a stroll through the park to drop off her uniform at her apartment before cutting back across to her second, far more enjoyable job.
The two distant parents that had reached out to her originally just wanted someone with a medical certification to do a weekly check on an ailing parent. They were probably just looking for someone with CPR training, so when Polly had told them over the phone she was an RN they had jumped on the opportunity. Maybe her degree was good for something after all.
Over the course of the next three months, however, she learned more about the family; namely, the kid who lived in the house just a little too big for two.
His name was Basil, a cute name to match a shy, introverted personality. He liked gardening, she learned, and they got along well. After the first month he began to open up to the casual talk of everyday life and the nostalgic movies that she’d watched the previous night to accompany what was probably too much popcorn to be healthy, and he responded with how school was going, and the types of plants he intended to grow, and the adventures his friends planned for the weekends.
When she noticed that he wasn’t doing particularly well in school, she offered to stay for an extra hour or so that day to help him. This slowly extended to staying late for most of her visits, occasionally having dinner there, because it was at that point around six, and eventually cooking because she felt guilty eating their food. The homemade dinners served under low-light and the occasional card games the three played after reminded her of home.
That was exactly what had happened today in fact; Basil’s grandmother headed efforts into a puttanesca using tomatoes from their garden, followed by a half hour of gin rummy. It was nice, and she was thinking of-
Polly’s head jerked up as she heard an insistent knock from her front door. “One second!” she yelled, tossing the sponge into the sink and drying her hands quickly on a cloth hanging off an oven handle, uncaring of the soap that got onto it. She half-walked half-jogged across her apartment, curious. She didn’t really have anyone that came over on a consistent basis, so… who was at the door?
As she opened the door, Polly saw two children standing hesitantly on her front step. They were
soaking
wet, shivering in the evening air. Even more, they looked like they had picked a fight with a tree - sticks and leaves were stuck in one’s hair, and the faces and clothes of both of the two boys were smudged with dirt. With a start, she realized that one of the boys was Basil, face streaked with dirt. His friend had an arm slung over Basil’s shoulders, leaning on him heavily, and Basil looked disoriented and distressed in a way Polly had never seen on him before. “P-Polly, I’m so s-sorry… I-I didn’t know w-where to-.”
Polly had a lot of questions on her mind, but she shunted them all away in face of the crisis. “In. We need to get you two warm.”
--✥--
In the end Polly had just grabbed every towel she had, leaving her bathroom closet essentially bare. She had the pair sitting on a radiator with shoes and socks doffed. Hypothermia could very well be caused by prolonged exposure to cold water, so she gave them the choice of replacing their shirts with one of her jackets or being buried in a pile of towels.
Basil’s friend, who she had learned was the Sunny she had occasionally heard about, hadn’t responded, so she gave him an armful of towels and told him to grab more if he needed them. Basil now sat in an old gray patterned sweater, shirt accompanying the socks and shoes on a separate radiator to dry. Polly was currently sitting in a dining room chair she had dragged over, using a comb to attempt the arduous process of pulling the debris out his hair.
In her own medical opinion, they were going to be fine… which opened the door to more questions.
“So... Basil.” she said, eyes narrowed in concentration at a tug caught in a particularly resilient knot. “I saw you less than an hour ago, and I know you had plans for the rest of the evening. How’d you end up in a river?”
“It was a p-pond, at our old hideout… I got into an argument, and-and I, she… I fell in...” Basil looked at the ground. “I can’t swim, so I think Sunny jumped in after me… but we both got all turned around and the water got really cold all of a sudden… then I was on the shore and it was just us. I had to drag Sunny out.”
Something about the story bugged Polly. Maybe it was the way he had told the story, or his hesitance, or maybe the eponymous ‘she’ that had apparently vanished. Was he being bullied? Basil tended not to talk about his school life, apart from his friends. That would explain the anxious behavior… God, this was a legitimate threat to the kid’s life. Polly resolved to talk with his grandmother and contact the school system about this. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Do you know who else was there, Basil?”
He paused for a second a pained look on his face, then looked down again. “...no.”
She exhaled through her nose. “That’s fine, honey. You said Aubrey was there too? Maybe she knows.”
Polly wasn’t intimately familiar with Basil’s reactions, but she could see the same pain on his face; it was painfully obvious what had happened. “Oh, honey...”
She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed, and in that moment with his shoulders hunched and hands trembling Basil looked so very small. A pang of sympathy and protective instinct ran through her, and Polly absolved to herself then that she was going to set things right here. Basil wasn't the most resilient of people and she hates to see him so hurt, especially when it seemed to be one of his few, dear friends.
“How about this. Once the two of you get warm, and your clothes dry out some, I’ll drive you two over to Sunny’s house and we can get you both sorted. How does that sound?”
Basil, shakily, nodded his head.
--✥--
Polly shifted the rearview mirror to look at the two in the back.
Basil sat huddled into the corner between the door and the bench seat, almost burrowed into the grey upholstery and her too-big sweater. His hands were clasped together in his lap, and his leg bounced nervously, eyes only interrupting their stare directly in front of him to flit to look at his friend then back again.
Sunny, on the driver side behind her, sat in a neutral position with his eyes lidded. She was pretty sure that he hadn’t said a word throughout what was probably the better part of an hour they were at her apartment, but he didn’t have the pupil dilation issues typical with shock which was if not reassuring then at least appeasing. Regardless, it was safer to try and get them home so they could change than any treatment she could muster. They weren’t in immediate danger.
In the middle seat sat the wet clothes.
Sunny’s house wasn’t far. She only knew the general location, but with some hesitant directions from Basil her hand-me-down sedan soon turned onto the correct road, driving down to the last house on the right. She parked in the driveway and pulled her key out of the ignition, taking a second to view the prim, medium sized house.
“Sunny, do you know if your parents are home?” The boy looked listlessly over at his name, but offered no response. Strange. Well, there was no car in the driveway, so at least one of them was out. She grabbed the bundle of wet clothes and tucked them under one arm for safekeeping before opening the car door and hoisting herself out.
Basil seemed almost afraid to leave the car, but got up and followed Polly to the door. Sunny wasn’t far behind, walking slowly and steadily with a thousand-yard stare plastered onto his face. The light of the fading sun winked out as they passed into the shadow cast by the house.
Polly stepped up to knock the door, and behind her she heard Basil say something she only caught half of: “-happened to- -sign?”
“Mmm?”
“Oh, s-sorry Polly… it’s nothing.”
“...huh. You’ve gotten taller.”
“O-oh, uhm… thanks?”
“...”
“Hey Polly, w-what’s the date? Today?”
“Oh… the 3rd I think. Don’t you remember? I thought you were coming over here after I left to listen to Sunny and Mari play- what’s with that look?”
Basil had gone stock still, and his face had grown as pale as a ghost. Sunny, too, showed a faint hint of surprise, looking over at the two of them before his face smoothed back over into a placid calm. Slowly, Basil reached one hand out to the doorknob and twisted, recoiling as the apparently unlocked door let out a creak and slowly swung inwards.
“It’s… just like-”
At this point the boy looked faintly sick, swaying on his feet. He reached out a hand to brace against the side of the house, steadying himself. Polly watched him, unsure of exactly what to say.
The two of them pivoted as one as loud conversation echoed through the once quiet house. Basil looked even sicker than before, breath coming quick and knees wavering. He took a glance over at Sunny, then double-took, glancing back inside the house to the argument increasing in volume.
Looking into the dark living room, Polly could see a faint silhouette at one door on the opposite side of the room, facing away from her. Short, so probably one of Sunny’s friends?
Basil jolted up as if struck by some idea, then stepped into the room in a wonderous daze, bee lining for a doorway on the far side. Polly curiously followed. “... Basil? Do you need to sit down?”
He didn’t respond, instead brushing aside the silhouette that Polly still couldn’t make out the face of. Walking to the doorway, he looked in, his face bathed in a faint light from the other room. Polly, not too far behind him, looked in-
It took maybe a tenth of a second for Polly to recognize what she saw. Staircase. Window, casting dim sunset light through the room. Sharp, mangled wood and metal at the foot of the stairs. Girl, suspended in midair, plummeting down them. Polly could practically see what was about to happen: the girl tumbled down the stairs, momentum too great to stop, punctured at the bottom by the pile of shards and splinters and string. She felt her vision tunnel and a shot of adrenaline run through her. She was not going to let that happen.
She barely had time to breathe, legs pumping underneath her as she flew across the room. Were she any less focused she would have winced as she saw the girl’s head collide with the bannister, her body going limp, but by that point she was already vaulting the pile and the first three steps.
Polly less caught the girl and more body-slammed her, feeling a painful crunch as the girl’s forehead collided with her nose. On the impact the girl bounced off her, lying on the stairs. For a heart wrenching second she felt herself teeter backwards, before hands from behind steadied her. Basil.
“Sunny…?”
Polly looked up the stairs, to see the half-relieved half horrified face of Basil’s friend looking down at them. He slowly backed up, hands in front of him, before whipping around and running into a door at the top, slamming it.
“Sunny!” Basil moved to follow him, and in that moment he was in front of her Polly noticed that he was wearing the same clothes that she had seen him wear back at dinner.
“Polly? Sh-should I call someone?”
A look confirmed that the Basil that she had loaned her sweater to stood in the doorway.
“What…”
“What is going on?”