Chapter Text
What would you say if you knew Taylor would end up here?
A pang of sorrow rang through Danny Hebert, a reprieve from the yawning darkness that sometimes dominated him.
Memories of Annette played through his mind: the first time he’d noticed her in college, with her sitting two seats in front of him, speaking heated words to their lecturer; to the first beer they had shared after a protest, the affair had be rowdy but none had been hurt or harmed; taking her to meet his parents for the first time — though at that point they had only been friends; and the first time she’d kissed him, irritated that he hadn’t thought to make the first move.
The start of their life together.
They were memories he held onto as lifelines, even though they had begun to become blurry around the edges. He remembered how passionate Annette had been, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall what the topic had been; he remembered that there had been a protest, but what they had fought for was now lost to him; he remembered that his father had walked away liking Annette, but couldn’t remember the steps that had led things there.
And it all gets worse because I’m so far away from where we spent all of our lives.
But all of this was for Taylor.
Danny’s truck was old and after the drive from Brockton Bay to Forks it shuddered loudly, with a new rattle that had joined the trip at some point and had gotten worse in the interim. Every bit of movement disturbed aches and pains accumulated through sitting and driving for long hours — he had used the trip to teach Taylor the basics to lessen his load, but she was a bit too confident and Danny hadn’t wanted her driving while he was asleep.
One eye moved to his daughter, laying against the rattling glass, watching the lush greenery that rolled past. The radio was on but it was low against the sounds of the car, not that Taylor paid it any mind.
An incident had happened, one that had led to Taylor staying in the hospital for a few days after…Danny’s stomach turned as he imagined it. She was being bullied and Danny knew enough of the world to know his daughter wasn’t going to get any help — there were too many problems in Winslow and a bullied girl meant nothing in comparison.
So he’d made a choice. But was it the correct one? He’d already failed her after Annette’s death and he didn’t want to add another to the lot.
“Almost there,” Danny said, doing his best to add cheer in his voice. She turned to him, producing a smile she clearly didn’t feel. He had to keep himself from sighing, turning his focus fully onto the road.
Dark clouds loomed over Forks. It had rained twice in the span of thirty minutes and looking at the skies Danny expected another light shower. The weather here was so different from Brockton Bay, where the climate had been warmer and even when it was supposed to be cold; Forks was different, cold, wet and lush. Danny worried that they did not own enough jackets, or worse, that they weren’t built for the climate.
A broken signpost became visible in the distance, its colour long gone and the wood worn from long rains. Danny had to squint but he saw it, a dirt road that led into a thin path surrounded by trees at every side. The truck slowed and turned, running down a sleek road with tire tracks carved into the dirt, long grass growing up and scraping the undercarriage of the car.
The tall trees sucked up the already low light, the sound of birds audible in the distance, joining the wet slap below, the rattle and groan from the car, and the indistinct music filtering up from the radio. Danny blinked, feeling a heavy fatigue that settled around his eyes paired with a bitter resentment of this place.
Annette hadn’t liked it here — finding the small town stifling; and Danny, through the bond shared between husband and wife, had felt similarly even though he’d only visited thrice. Even before she and he had met, she had told herself that she would leave, and then her mother hadn’t liked Danny and that had made it easier for Annette to stay in Brockton Bay completely. The two had spoken on occasion, letters and pictures sent between them; but after Annette’s death, Rose hadn’t deigned to contact Danny, though she sent Taylor the errant cheque for an allowance.
Danny let out a breath, mechanically relaxing his fingers which had curled around the steering wheel.
The darkness broke, opening up into a large lot surrounded on all sides by trees. A house stood at the centre of it all, tall and painted blue — though that colour was so faded that it looked near white; there was a shed at one end, leaning slightly left, with giant doors barred by chains and a heavy padlock.
“Our new home,” Danny said, his tone low.
Taylor sat up. “There’s someone on the lawn,” she said, a hint of worry in her voice, though it was so muted he doubted he heard it right.
There’s so much I don’t know about you, he thought, his mind flickering with all the little signs he should have seen and yet looked past. Taylor had changed and he had thought it was a confluence of various factors: Annette’s absence still fresh; having to attend high school; and all the things that came with being a teenager.
Danny’s heart jumped as he saw the police car — it was a hazard of living in the Bay; though the aggression had not often been turned on him, they had been turned on those close to him and that led to distrust.
The car shuddered and sputtered as it stopped and Danny had to take a moment to gather himself, watching the car and its inhabitants. There were two people there, one of them a girl who slouched in the passenger seat — very much like Taylor; and a shorter man, broader than Danny and his face carrying the weight of a bushy moustache. The man was uniformed, which didn’t make things any better.
“Stay in the car,” Danny said and Taylor nodded, a distrust in her eyes that he had seen many a time in the mirror — good girl, he thought, though it was without pride. How bad was the state of the world when they had to be suspicious of the people who were, in theory, supposed to protect them?
Another breath, steeling himself, and Danny stepped out, reflecting the man who did the same. Danny’s steps were slow and careful, hands at his side and he did his best to smile; the ground was wet and he had to pick his way through, finding firmer ground that wasn’t too muddy.
“Officer,” he said as they met.
“Oh, no,” the man started, his expression twisting into a light discomfort. “You don’t have to call me that, especially if you’re gonna be living here. I’m Charlie to everyone around these parts. Sheriff if you wanna be formal, but you don’t need to.”
“It’s good to meet you, Sheriff,” Danny said, extending a hand. Charlie paused for a moment before he shrugged and took the hand — his grip was firm, and the hand calloused, painting a picture of a different life than Danny’s own. “I’m Danny Hebert.”
Charlie nodded. “Heard stories about you,” he said, smiling. “You’re the one that took our Annette into the big city.”
Danny did his best to school his expression. What stories had Rose told them about him? Did the entire town already hate him?
“Annette made her own choice,” he said, keeping his tone even, though it trembled around the edges as he felt the intense pang of hurt.
All this time and her loss still finds a way to feel new.
Charlie chuckled. “Don’t I know it,” he said. “Annette’s always been strong willed. Scared me when we were at school, but everyone in town knew she’d achieve whatever she wanted. She had that knack.”
Danny couldn’t help himself but his reservations melted ever so slightly. “You knew her?”
“I take it that means she didn’t mention me?” Charlie said. Danny froze but the man laughed. “There’d be no reason to. We weren’t friends, but everyone knows everyone in this town — one way or another. Which means that everyone knows you’re here and you brought Taylor — which has the town excited.”
“I don’t know how to parse that,” Danny admitted. “Small towns have a way of being…” he stopped, rethinking what he had been about to say.
“Close-minded?”
“Insular,” Danny amended.
Charlie nodded. “That happens. Everyone’s friendly, though, we have to be if we want hikers to keep coming in. But you’re not a visitor, you’re here to stay and that means something. Everyone will accept you — they took to the Cullens pretty well and, well…they can be strange at the best of times.”
“Cullens?”
“A family that moved to Forks a while back,” said Charlie. “Their kids attend the high school. The father, Dr Cullen, he’s a good man — changed the town since he arrived, real knack for medicine and he’s not afraid to drive two hours to visit an out of the way house if someone needs help.” Charlie tsked and shook his head. “Sorry, this is probably a little much. Here you are, just arrived and I’m talking your head off with this town’s gossip.”
Danny eagerly took the room. “And, if I might ask,” he said, “to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Your lawyer, Jeremy Marshall, had business in Port Angeles and he’ll be staying there for a good few days. He asked that I give you some important documents — the lease and that sort of thing — and I give you the keys to this place.”
Danny frowned. “And you did it?” he said.
Charlie shrugged. “It’s the neighbourly thing to do,” he said. He extended the envelope he had tucked under his armpit. Danny took it, feeling the weight of the papers and something hard inside — probably some important keys; he pulled out one to see the letter of the town’s solicitors, something that reminded him that he would have to expect more calls as his house was being sold. “Your daughter?”
Danny looked up then back at Taylor who was still in the truck. He nodded. “Taylor,” he said.
“Bella,” Charlie said, wearing a smile that reached his eyes, making them almost twinkle. “Just moved back. This is her first day back, don’t you know? I’m really excited about it. Terrified too. Haven’t had to raise her and now she’s back and she’s a young woman.”
“Oh?” Danny said, caught off guard by how much this man — a stranger — had already shared. “You’re a single father?”
“Complicated,” Charlie said and his moustache wriggled, a sudden sadness taking over his expression. It wasn’t death, Danny was sure about that — he had seen that expression many a time in the mirror; but the pain was deep, nonetheless. “Do you think…if we got them together, that’d be okay? At least give them a running start when it comes to making friends — these sorts of things are important.”
Danny thought of Taylor and how she had hidden how hard things were at school until the worst had happened. He had tried to talk to her during their trip and that had yielded nothing. She wasn’t willing to ask for help, but then Danny and Annette had been likewise and Taylor got the worst of the both of them.
He shook his head. “I think we should let them make their way,” he said. “Teenagers want as little to do with their parents as possible.”
Charlie nodded. “Saw a bit of that,” he said. The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I really shouldn’t keep you, Danny. There’s probably a lot you have to do. We’ll see each other in town.”
“We will,” Danny said and with that Charlie left.
“What was that about?” Taylor asked, giving a half-wave as Charlie waved at her. The daughter, Bella, shrunk a little — likely embarrassment. “You guys were talking for a while.”
“He was being neighbourly,” said Danny. “Now, let’s get in, check this place out and maybe get some sleep.”
Taylor nodded, her expression impassive.
I really hope this works out, kiddo.