Chapter Text
❝ Nina had been too young to fight in the Ravkan civil war, and she’d been desperate to be part of the rebuilding of the Second Army. It was her gift for languages – Shu, Kaelish, Suli, Fjerdan, even some Zemeni – that finally overcame Zoya’s reservations. ❞
― Six of Crows, Leigh Bardugo
Marlene’s mother always said she was like a wildfire: blazing and powerful, embodying the spirit of the flames that danced on the logs of the fire. She’d said that to her when she the lit candles flame danced on her pinkie at the age of six and said it again at the age of seven when Marlene had made a brutal winter just a bit more bearable with her threatening glares at the fire to “Stay warm!”.
Over the years she’d said it with a laugh of fondness and everything in between, she’d even said it with a disappointed frown as she shook her head.
The last Marlene heard the words slip out was when she was eleven. They were said like a goodbye.
“You are a wildfire, Marlene.” A kiss was pressed to her forehead with hands gripping her shoulders gently, one moving to cup one side of her face, “Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.”
She’d walked away from her mother with glances back before she was pushed into a carriage and told to sit tight, told that her life would be better now and that “Everything would finally feel right.”
Yet there was a wrongness to the way her soft worn white shirts (passed down from brother to sister, to sister and then to her) and sweeping red were traded away. In their place were blue Keftas, which looked all the same stacked in her wardrobe, each with their own imperfect fires stitched along the fabric. Red, gold and orange ran up the sides, yet they produced no warmth for her at all.
The Little Palace was a hardened and cold place when she’d first arrived. Everything was too tall, looming in a way that didn’t sit right with her, a girl who was just another Inferni in a sea of blue Keftas. There was no wildfire in the vast training sessions, only the combined heat of a thousand wildfires. After all, there is nothing special about being Grisha when you are surrounded by those, some who are far younger than you, who can do more than light a candle.
But she grew and learned, fought training dummies, and practised hand movements again and again until her wrists hurt, with bruises and burns being collected along the way. The picture of a perfect Inferni with flint on hand and a whirlwind of power swirling in her hands at every demonstration.
She was miserable for a long time.
For a while, she didn’t let herself think of anything but home. Home, which was thousands of miles away and brought with the thought of it a stabbing sense of homesickness.
At the start, she refused to socialise. Perhaps it was her own way of rebellion, but the idea soon caved when she was bested in her first combat session. No powers, just strength. Her opponent, Lily Evans, was deemed the victor. From there, what started as a vengeance for first place blossomed into a friendship that would keep for years, and with that came the obvious friendship of Mary Mcdonald and herself. Thick as thieves and as powerful as an army, the three of them were forces to be reckoned with.
Yet two years later, she was back where she had started with anguish in her veins and a fire that couldn’t be extinguished.
She worked hard- harder than most. She practised smiles that felt genuine and laughed as if she meant it. She got so good at the act that at times, she’d even convinced herself it was- she tricked herself into believing there was no hole in her heart in the shape of two runaway girls. But even if the truth dawned on her, she was never far away from a training session where she could simply forget it all. There, she could trade the overwhelming thoughts for a fire that burned hotter than the sun.
For a while, it was the same routine: think, overthink and train. But at fourteen, she was pulled out of classes along with many others. They said to the group they’d gathered, all bubbling with youth and innocence, that they were short on Grisha soldiers.
None of the time understood the implications. Nobody thought to stop and wonder where the soldiers had gone- whether some had died or been captured or perhaps strung up on the pyre in the snowy wasteland of Fjerda.
They were full of bright spirits and fresh flaming passion. Nobody rejected the offer.
Now, she was a spy for the crown (or at least one in the making).
When she was young and still believed it, she nodded along with her teachers. This was her duty, the greatest honour. She was a child of Ravka (they ignored her Shu mother) who was loyal and as obedient as they came. Loyal, obedient, strong.
So they placed her in yet another training session- forced Shu out of her mouth and trained her to whisper Kaelish in her sleep whilst replicating the perfect style of speech the Zemini had, they told her that her Kerch must be strong and her Fjerdan unbreakable with enough Suli to strike out a philosophical remark from her mouth at the snap of her teacher's fingers. When she spoke it was like some sort of guessing game to guess where she was from- a gamble which many lost. Who was she? Where was she from?
Never from the small villages near Kribirsk- her accent was a melting pot and Ravkan had dissolved there long ago. Who was Marlene McKinnon?
A wildfire? Hardly.
Inferni, a member of the second army, resident of the Little Palace and a spy for the crown, apparently.
She was fifteen when she was handed her first mission, introduced to a set of Grisha whose powers matched hers and soared above it too. She’d taken one good look at those around her and decided she’d shoulder through. Every month they sent her mother money- every month they kept her mother afloat. Every month Marlen wished she was back in Kribirsk and dreamt of the tiny room she shared with her older sister all those years ago.
When she set sail to the Wandering Isles, Marlene let herself laugh with her team.
After a treacherous crossing through the Fold (which, as their commander told them- was ‘smooth sailing’), the group had been rattled. They were teens, of course, and the Fold was the stuff of nightmares. So they huddled about and talked, and smiles blazed through them as quiet conversations in pairs blazed into a raucous sound of laughter for weeks on the ship.
Her team, if anything, were strangely paired but oddly suited to each other.
Emmeline Vance was funny and full of kindness. A Durast who made small dangling sets of earrings, charms, necklaces and bracelets for fun. She considered herself an artist with her medium being all things metal. She toed the line between unhinged and deadly in style with a bracelet of metal she could fashion into a weapon at any given moment.
Benjy Fenwick, a Tidemaker whose laughter rang through camp as he let small rain clouds chase after their commander. The boy giggled and laughed and let his head go back as melodies escaped his throat with puddles of water dancing around him in time with each laugh. With a languid flick of a wrist, though, he could easily decimate a small house if wanted- topple it with water and freeze it into ice.
Rita Skeeter, some fussy Heartrender who Marlene still hadn’t decided if she despised or was fond of. Either way, the girl was a menace. With a wicked sense of hearing for heartbeats, she was something else to be reckoned with. At times, Marlene would find herself getting along with her. Then she would open her mouth and spout some nonsense and the cycle would continue.
The Prewett brothers- twins. One an Alkemi, Gideon, and the other a Squaller, Fabian. The two took pleasure in the small pranks they placed on the team, and whilst often looking like the most harmless of the squad due to both their easy-going and slightly discerning nature, they were a force to be reckoned with. One made poison whilst the other pushed it to their enemies. They worked in tandem but were deadly nonetheless whether separately or together.
Everything was nicely rounded off the group was their commander in question: Alastor Moody.
Moody, the grumpy and resigned leader, was also an Inferni. Burns rippled across his body (or what was left of it) with a Fabrikator-made leg in place of his severed left leg with a patch across one of his eyes, his face generally decorated with a frown. He was her biggest critic- her largest source of fuel to do better because she’d be damned if she was belittled by some Grisha leader past the age of retirement at this point.
He’d been the one to pull her into those language lessons and force her to recite their languages like it was her mother tongue. He saw some slither of potential in her and cultured it to grow. He was frustrating, insulting and downright rude. And yet she respected him in a twisted way, even if she didn’t want to.
It was how their journey started out, and Marlene found that even with all the faults she could spot in the group; what with Emmeline’s artistic nature prone to her spacing out, Benjy’s languid reaction times, Rita’s incessant need to be in the clue of things far above her rank or the Prewett brother’s unstoppable force when it came to pranking or even the harsh glares she’d get from Moody… even with all of that, Marlene found herself unbothered. She didn’t hate her team.
Maybe in some distant universe, they’d hate each other or maybe they’d still be back training like other Grisha their age. But this was their reality, they were spies and soldiers now. They’d have to deal with it, and they’d learn to deal with each other.
“You know,” Emmeline said, dropping her large rucksack on the forest floor with a huff. She watched as Moody hobbled off into the distance on what he claimed was a ‘Recon’ mission. “I think he’s lost it. Moody, I mean. I think all of us thinking he was mad back in the Little Palace finally got to him.”
“He made our camp in the woods, Em…” Benjy shrugged, “It’s not… that bad .”
“Tell that to the creepy little bugs around here,” shivered Rita in disgust. She propped herself on a clean-looking log and sat, pulling out a sharpened nail filer and idly looking over her claw-like red nails. After a while, she glanced down at the mud on her boots and grimaced. “When we get back, I’m swapping these out for a better pair. I can’t believe he wouldn’t even let me take another.”
“Too much to carry,” reasoned Benjy, who Marlene found out quickly was the mediator of them all.
“Did he ever say how long it would take?” Emmeline asked, “I mean- we are to try and find Grisha, I suppose? Or… to gather information?”
Marlene shrugged, “I think the words Moody used were something along the lines of this being a ‘test run’. No trust in us at all I think he’s got this idea that we’ll all die to some berries or something we’ll forage.”
“Well that’s silly,” Benjy huffed, “I’m a good forager. I always have been.”
“Then you can forage me a bed,” grumbled Rita. “My back will be in bits with this forest floor.”
“Nature doesn’t provide goose feather pillows sadly, Skeeter.” sniggered Fabian. “Gid and I have done our fair share of camping out in forests like these before Moody found us.” he fluttered his eyes as his brother, “Brings back memories, eh Gid?”
“It does indeed,” Gideon replied, wiping a fake tear from his eyes before pressing both hands to his heart, “oh to be young again.”
“They’re insane,” Rita stated plainly. “Insane. Moody is not only insane- but the two of them with their blinding fucking hair are insane as well.”
Gideon paused and placed his hands on his hips, “Did I just hear you insult my luscious locks, Skeeter? Sleep with one eye open, you cow. One morning you’ll find those creams you slap on your face will be full of phosphorus .”
“I’d choke you with your blood before you had the chance, you ginger oaf.” snapped back Rita, examining her nails carefully. Humming, she looked at her middle finger and filed it sharper.
“Saints,” muttered Marlene. She sighed, resting her head on her elbow. “I wonder when Moody will be back.”
“You’re like a lost puppy,” murmured Rita, rolling her eyes. “Honestly- it’s no wonder Moody’s favourite is you.”
Marlene snapped out of whatever daydream she’d entered to block out the bickering and light chatter of her teammates and stared at Rita with a large frown set on her face. “Me? The favourite? You’ve gone and lost your mind. Maybe Gid is already poisoning you.”
“We all know it,” Rita shrugged, “You’re both Inferni, maybe that’s why. Can’t be because of your Kaelish. Your pronunciation is awful .”
“Says you,” muttered Fabian. “We’re natives, Skeeter. You sound like a yowling cat.”
“Shut it, Fabian. My threat applies to the two of you bloody brothers.”
“Right then, that’s enough of that.” Benjy cut in, “We’re meant to be getting along, no? Let’s sit tight whilst we wait for Moody. We’re in a safe enough area. Besides, if we’ve all followed through with our threats to kill each other- there won’t be anybody left to scout out Grisha, will there?”
“Good idea,” nodded, Emmeline. “I agree… we should probably finish setting up the tents.” They all looked collectively at the lump at the side of the campfire Marlene had started. “Gid, Fab. You take one and Marlene and I will take the other to set up.”
“What about us?” asked Benjy.
“Collect us some food,” suggested Marlene, “we have a fire going, and I don’t think any of us really want to be eating those rations Moody got us, right?”
There was a murmur of agreement.
“Besides- Rita can finally have an outlet for her anger. Then all her threats will be null to the twins and we won’t have dead bodies on our hands. Rita’s too young to be a killer anyways.” Marlene finished with a grin, relaxing just a bit.
There were squawks of outrage, cries of laughter and a smile.
Marlene McKinnon was beginning to feel ok on their little mission.
｡･-: ☆ :-･｡
Their campsite, as it turns out, was not exactly safe. Not by Marlene’s standards, that is. Being surrounded by trees might have been good in the day when you didn’t want your movements traced, but at night it felt like the branches were closing in on them like the leaves were hovering over her as trunks hid eyes staring right at the back of her head.
Marlene had always been one to fear the dark, and the Little Palace had never chased away the fear.
Their Commander- their ‘true’ commander, called himself the Darkling, the shadow summoner, a descendant of the damned one who’d created the Fold in the first place. “My greatest shame.” as he would often proclaim, before returning to whatever the Darkling did during the day.
Marlene had been frightened of him since she was little. A man of shadows was fear-inspiring. One wrong move and it could all encase you. The light would be sucked away and you’d be left to fear the dark. To get to the Wandering Isle in the first place they’d had to cross the Fold and Marlene hadn’t forgotten that.
It had been her first time crossing the chasm of darkness, and she wondered still when it would relinquish its hold on her nightmares. Scenes from the Fold hid behind her eyes when she blinked and stalked her ears making every single sound morph into the screech of Volcra.
Marlene wasn’t a fool, though. She knew from the looks on the others' faces that it haunted them and she knew for certain from the numerous lines on Moody’s arms that he’d come to be familiar with the nightmares too. As much as she wished she was back in East Ravka, closer to her mother and to her family, she didn’t mind being around them.
It felt nice. Not quite home, but a decent shelter.
“Vance, McKinnon. I want you two scouting the town tomorrow,” announced Moody as they hunkered around a campfire Moody had made, feasting silently on small stream fish Benjy had caught and whatever (hopefully) edible fruits, nuts and other garnishing Fabian had found whilst he and Rita had been foraging earlier in the day.
“And what about the rest of us?” Benjy frowned, “This is our first mission. A test run, even.”
“Too right it is,” nodded Fabian, “Are you seriously going to just send two of us out there, alone? On the way here you said The Wandering Isle has recently been crawling with Grisha Slavers- are you… are you sure you want Ems and Marls going alone?”
Marls.
Marlene didn’t hate it.
“I said, scout. They’re not fighting- they’ll be under cover. Last night, I heard rumbling of Grisha Hunters having a base here. It is in your best interest to be cautious and to keep an ear open. There’ll be a rotation- the two of you will go first and plant yourself there for our duration. Fenwick and Skeeter will accompany you in a day or two. After us, The Darkling wants to send in a senior team.”
He patrolled them, marching up and down like a First Army corporal. “I want Kaelish or Shu spoke at all times. O’Marbh’s hold on his people is always looser towards the edges. Frayed. They’ll be softer here, kinder. ” Emmeline’s shoulders relaxed at the words, “That does not - however- give you the invitation to let your guard down. If they have Grisha in their town, it’ll be hushed. You’ll look like fools if your ears are stuck out. I want subtlety from the two of you. I mean it.”
He got up, looking like he was finished. But then, he turned around, “And I mean it- especially you, McKinnon. Don’t go burning the bloody town down like some Saints-forsaken madwoman .”
Emmeline shot her a look that said something like Marlene, breathe.
And Marlene did, she desperately tried. She tried to clench her fist, and she tried to count in her head, but nothing worked. Her mouth opened before her brain had time to register what she was saying, and before she knew it she was spouting out a flurry of impulsive words at Alastor.
“Was that an insult, Commander?” she snarled, “Am I too much for your old self?”
“Wind your neck in, McKinnon.”
Her tense expression dropped, anger crawling up her like a burning fire. “Wind my neck in? I’ve done nothing wrong, Moody. Nothing bar a bit of mouthing off- and I know that this is far more than a punishment for that. If you think I’m such a hazard- why don’t you take me off this stupid scouting mission? Am I still too much of a puny village girl to be accepted into the ‘Big-Boy Grisha ranks’?”
“That’s enough, McKinnon,” Mood said forcefully. “You’ll go on the damn scouting mission if I tell you to, and that will be the end of it. I want constant vigilance from the two of you- this is no training session, this is real. Don’t be a lunatic and sell your blood to them as tempting as the lucrative offer can be.”
And then, he lumbered off to Saints knows where, turning back seconds later and yelling, “CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” for good measure one more.
Walking into town the next day was hardly a brave feat. If anything, the awkward wall of silence between Emmeline and Marlene and been blown to shreds and Marlene had run full-force into the girl with complaints about their commander.
“He thinks we’re babies or something,” she muttered. “He called me a mad woman. What was he thinking? I’m not irrational- not like that, anyways.”
“I think you both got carried away,” Emmeline shrugged, “but he wasn’t right to say those kinds of things. It’s our first mission, but we’re not stupid. We’ve trained for this and he knows that.”
“Exactly!”
“Well, anyways.” huffed the girl, pulling on the sleeves of her shirt, “I wish we could wear something a little warmer- I think he seriously underestimated how gloomy this place would be.”
Marlene nodded in agreement, grimacing at how muddy her boots had already become. The two were dressed inconspicuously as travellers both in long-sleeved shirts with heavy woollen skirts (red and blue respectively for Marlene and Emmeline). Marlene was the slightly luckier of the two, as she’d wisely draped a long scarf around her which acted more like a shawl now than anything else.
“Here,” she said gruffly, taking the deep maroon and slightly scratchy scarf off, “you look like you need it.”
“But you’ll be cold.”
“I don’t get cold as easily,” Marlene simply replied.
The two walked in silence for a few moments before Emmeline started a conversation.
“These clothes remind me of home,” she said simply, “Even if they’re not exactly the same… It’s still a nice reminder.” She turned to Marlene and asked, “Which one of your parents is Shu?”
“I-”
“Sorry, that sounds rude.” mumbled the girl, “I just- I heard you on the boat. You said to Benjy you were half Shu.” Marlene blinked, not realising Emmeline had been listening. Benjy had complained to her about how good her Shu accent was, begging her to teach him. She’d snorted in reply, simply admitting she had a parent from Shu-Han.
“My mother,” Marlene replied simply. “What about you?”
“Both,” shrugged Emmeline, “I lived there for a while. My father was a Durast like me. He, er- died.” Marlene’s eyes widened, her mouth forming an ‘O’ shape. “It’s fine,” surged Emmeline, “I… we didn’t come to Ravka because of him. You know how some people in Shu-Han can be…”
Marlene frowned, “You mean the scientists?”
Emmeline laughed awkwardly, swerving a young Kaelish girl who squealed, a boy running after her moments later. “My dad gave himself up to them when I was little. It was either him or me… We found out a month later he’d died. We never knew why, but we knew it must’ve been bad. They didn’t let us see the body. And then… then they asked after me.”
“So you ran?”
“We ran,” she confirmed. Perking up slightly, she added. “My mum’s fine, though. She works as a maid in the Palace- I get to see her every week.”
Distantly, she remembers seeing Emmeline looped arm in arm with an older woman before their voyage. Come to think of it, she remembers seeing Emmeline with her purple Kefta talking to what must have been her mother on numerous occasions. They never really talked- not properly- but Marlene knew her and had seen her around the Little Palace enough to give her a wave when they saw each other.
“That must be nice,” nodded Marlene. “My family… they’re back in Kribirsk. I don’t really get to see them much- I haven’t seen them, actually, since I got to the palace. We’re not exactly well-off as some are.”
“Oh,” Emmeline said. “Well- if you ever get a random craving for Shu food, I’m sure there’s an extra plate for you if my mum has anything to say about it.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“It’s not good to dwell on homesickness, not when you can have a bit of a relief.” Emmeline smiled as she said, "That’s what my dad used to say.”
“You sound like my grandmother,” muttered Marlene darkly, “Every other thing that came out of her mother was a proverb or something wise sounding.”
“Your grandmother and my father would have been the best of friends then,” snorted Emmeline and Marlene smiled back in return.
Walking with Emmeline felt good, it reminded Marlene of something she hadn’t properly had in a while.
It wasn’t that Marlene was a grump- not necessarily. She had friends back in the Little Palace from all walks of life. But she’d had two close friends she’d held close, dearly close, before they’d been ripped apart from her. Lily Evans, killer Heartrender, and Mary Macdonald, a wickedly good Squaller. The three of them had been close with the other, but all that had fallen quickly apart when Mary had gone on a mission just like the one Marlene was on and hadn’t been seen since. She’d been bright-eyed and eager and then there was none of that.
Suddenly, she was gone. And very quickly after that, everything fell apart.
Marlene had always known, deep down, that Lily adored Mary differently than she adored Marlene. With Mary, she was a pilgrim seeking refuge, staring at the saint-like Squaller like she was her salvation like she was her flag, her shield, her country and her reason for being. It was not adoration, it was love.
Marlene knew the two of them felt the same but had never really voiced it. There was an unspoken acknowledgement of their love that never seemed to get in the way of their friendship.
But Mary had left, and Marlene had been left to try to pick up the pieces of a mourning girl. But she wasn’t like Lily, she wasn’t a Heartrender or a Healer or even a Tailor. She was an Inferni. She could not heal, only burn. There was no way she’d burn Lily’s broken heart though, so the two of them had been left by themselves, both as unsure as the other as to what to do next.
Then, barely two months later, Lily was gone. Abandoning her post in what Marlene bitterly remembers being an act of love- trying to find her dear Mary and being desperate enough to try to do so by crossing the Fold not by Skiff but by what other means she’d found.
When Marlene had crossed the Fold for the first time to end up here, she’d foolishly let herself look around and wonder if Lily or Mary’s body was amongst the darkness, blending in with the pitch-black outside of a small Fabrikator-made lantern releasing a weak blue light.
Marlene had wondered a lot about them before she’d stopped. She’d done her thinking before the worry had been replaced with Shu, Fjerdan, Kaelish and whatever other languages had been shoved down her throat for her to memorise.
It wasn’t like her laughter was a bad thing.
She’d missed it. She’d missed feeling a spark with somebody, feeling like there was something more than just a weak link of friendship- like maybe they’d be close.
“Perhaps we can keep up their tradition,” Marlene said slowly, her voice a bit weary. “It might annoy Moody enough for me to feel better whenever he snaps at me.”
“Just as a fence has to be built with pegs, an able person needs the help of three others. ” Emmeline replied, and Marlene groaned.
“If you made your voice just a bit scratchier, I’d think it was my grandmother speaking to me.” Emmeline laughed at her complaint and proceeded to laugh even harder as Marlene said, “Well- you’d have to shove a spoon of rice into my mouth too and maybe pinch my cheeks. But I don’t think we’ve gotten to that level yet.”
It wasn’t that funny, not really. If anything else, it was deserving of a small smile. But it felt nice to hear laughter and not critiques. It felt good to truly smile.
Laughing, she walked on with Emmeline. Her smile never once left her face.
｡･-: ☆ :-･｡
Their mission carried on fine, and they returned feeling success flowing through their veins.
And just like that, Marlene felt like she’d fit into some other puzzle. Maybe not perfectly, but she was fine enough with the arrangements.
Soon, they were heading out elsewhere. Soon- they were in Kerch, bumbling through the streets of Ketterdam, robbing in broad daylight the indentured and leading those in Lij to their safety- boarding their ship and sailing back to Ravka.
It was tradition, at this point, that every person who crossed the Fold gained a ‘mark’. Some cut a line into their arm like Moody, others tattooed themselves like the Prewett brothers, whilst people like Emmeline simply added a charm to the necklace they wore on their necks.
Marlene had no method until Emmeline sprung upon her a bracelet.
“Only four charms?” Marlene frowned, looking down at the bracelet.
“Do you not like it?” Emmeline asked fretfully.
“No, no- I love it. I’m just… confused. What’s the bracelet for?”
“Well, a Fold tracker.” Emmeline shrugged, “Gid and Fab have their tattoos, Benjy has his ring and Rita has her little notebook she won’t let leave her side… I have my necklace and Moody has his arms .” Emmeline shivered, probably disgusted with the thought. “Now you have this.”
Gold, inscribed with flames on each charm, with small circles of precious rubies.
“This is a glorified friendship bracelet,” Marlene said after a few moments, the edges of her lips turning upwards in a smile. “Is this a friendship bracelet?”
“Well, if it were I would’ve given you one much sooner. Didn’t know you were into that sort of stuff or I’d have crafted one for you when we first went to the Wandering Isles. But… yeah. I guess so. Though I’d like to think we were friends before I gave you this.”
“Yeah,” nodded Marlene, “we were.”
And so the group excelled, and a ‘decent shelter’ as Marlene had dubbed them turned into a tight-knit team she’d once thought nearly impossible to imagine.
Emmeline was still dazed, but she was Marlene’s closest confidant. She was a constant on their missions and the one she was always paired up with for scouting out cities. They scoured the world for Grisha to help the Second Army grow, all while barely paying attention to the fact war was brewing because neither could care. They were close friends, maybe best friends if time allowed them to continue on their way.
Rita Skeeter was still a pain in the arse, a nuisance and annoying. But she was manageable, maybe even kind at times. There were times, late at night in the tent the three girls shared when Emmeline had already nodded off into her dreamscape, that the two would indulge in their nightmares. The Fold didn’t just plague Marlene with nightmares, it plagued Rita with them too. So the two of them would talk at night, feast upon their worries and fears and perhaps cry a bit as well, huddled together in a sea of sorrowful tears. But by the time morning came, Rita was dabbing on creams to her face and insulting them with her plethora of curses.
Marlene adored them in her own messed up way, even when they got into arguments because Rita had pushed her dagger of words too deep and blood had been drawn. Even then, they were fine.
And if they weren’t? Well, they had Benjy. He’d changed a bit, probably the most out of them. He was calm, sure, but his reflexes had improved immensely. He was as kind as usual but had learnt to bark back at some of the particularly scathing insults Rita would fire at him. He always seemed to be able to soften blows or change the subject, pushing and pulling tension away like they were tides themselves.
Marlene had grown to adore them all even if sometimes she’d have to sleep with one eye open to ensure Fabian and Gideon didn’t somehow blow up camp. They were reckless, powerful and funny, but they’d at least learned when enough was enough.
Brick by brick, they’d built a shelter, then a house, then a home.
Marlene was fine with it.
Had the Saints given her more time, maybe she’d have died and killed for them.