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It was quiet, without the rest of their friends. Ashton’s body was achingly weak, broken in a way it hasn’t been for years, and in the absence of a fight, he was forced to let it heal. They slept a lot, the first month, slipping in and out of consciousness. Sometimes when he woke, Milo was there, tinkering with some new invention and watching Ashton out of the corner of their eye. Sometimes, it was Fearne instead, pressing warm, healing hands to their skin, and humming in concern. He caught her once, hiding in the corner of the room as Milo yelled from downstairs about stolen belongings. She winked at him when their eyes met and continued to spin Milo’s favourite carving knife between her fingers.
Fearne’s presence was both comforting and painful to Ashton. She was familiar, in a way that they were surprised to find Milo no longer was- They had both changed in the years since the fall (Mostly for the better, probably), and now Milo was exactly the same as he used to be, and Ashton was the only one who had changed, and that sucked (He dreaded to think of what it would be like to meet the rest of their friends all over again). Krook House was a lot less lonely with Fearne here, with her energy and her wonderful weirdness, and her knack for distracting him from his spiralling thoughts. Not that Ashton planned on ever telling her that, but they figured she probably knew. Fearne could be surprisingly insightful like that.
Sometimes though, Fearne would say something, and Ashton would wait for one of the others to chime in, and when they didn’t- because they couldn’t, because they were gone- it was like losing them all over again. It made their chest hurt, and it was different from the physical pain he was so used to- it just ached and ached, and they thought it might be grief, maybe, but the others weren’t even dead, so that was just stupid.
Ashton’s body healed, bit by bit, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this little pain (It was still there, but he had good days now, sometimes, and the really bad days didn’t seem so frequent anymore), and still they remained in their room. At first it was just habit, but then Ashton slowly stopped seeing the point of getting up. Everything sucked, was the thing, and no one could fix that. Fearne helped a little, but she didn’t have FCG’s easy insight into how Ashton thought, or Laudna’s gift for just calling fucking bullshit on him, and he couldn’t find the words to explain the mess inside his head, so they mostly just told her they were tired. Gods, he was so fucking tired.
She slipped into his room one night. Ashton hadn’t been sleeping, too busy thinking, and he heard her hoof-steps pause outside their door. It slowly creaked open to let in a sliver of light, and he listened to her shaky breath as she came over to the bed. They waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Ashton sighed.
“’S fine,” He mumbled, “You can sleep here.”
She didn’t used to sleep alone, Ashton thought. They wondered vaguely who had been keeping her company over the last couple of months, but then the blanket shifted, and there was a warm, heavy weight at his back. They thought of Orym, and wondered if they weren’t maybe the wrong size for her, but she didn’t seem to mind.
It was a little awkward. Ashton was all too aware of her breath on his neck, and her legs pressed up against their own. Her hand came up to trace the succulents on his arm, and Ashton rolled their eyes.
“Did you need something, Fearne, or were you just bored?”
There was a pause, and a soft sound that might have been a sniffle, or maybe just breathing funny.
“I had a nightmare.” She murmured.
Oh. Ashton turned over, and immediately regretted it with how close their faces were together. In the gentle glow of moonlight, they could clearly see the tear tracks on her cheeks, and the slight quiver of her lips. Aston silently cursed. He wasn’t good at this, at knowing what to say.
“About the others?”
“Mmhmm…” Ashton waited, trying not to fidget, “Ashton, what if they don’t like us anymore? What if we’re too different now?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Frowned. They hadn’t thought they’d changed all that much, but the looks Milo gave him said otherwise. He recalled a particularly bad day, just a few weeks back, when Milo had snapped that Ashton felt like a stranger now. It was a valid concern, that the others might react the same.
“Then fuck ‘em,” They told her, a little more earnestly than they’d meant to, “We’ll just… we’ll figure it out, yeah? The two of us.”
They saw Fearne’s face relax a little, and just the faintest hint of a smile. It made him think back to the last couple of weeks, how they’d just pushed her away because it was all so much, and they felt a pang of guilt as they realised how lonely she’d probably been, stuck in a place she barely knew, while her only friend here shut himself away and locked her out. A sudden resolve hit Ashton- the vaguely desperate thought that they could do this, that they could put things right and finally have some order in this whole fucking mess. Something like hope itched at the back of his mind. They could do better. They would do better.
“We’ll figure it out.” He repeated, and this time he actually meant it.
The worst part about all of this, was that all of Ashton’s old contacts were gone. Well, no. The worst part was that their friends had no idea who they were, and it would be nearly two years before he even got to see them again. But this was easier to get mad about.
He had decided, after very little sleep, and even less thought, that he and Fearne should find some jobs. Milo had grown increasingly more vocal in their grumblings about the two of them ‘earning their keep’, and Fearne had announced last night that she was bored, which meant she probably planned to cause some mischief, and Ashton wanted to actually be able to come back here in the future, so a distraction was definitely in order.
They sat up in bed, while Fearne snored softly beside him (That had apparently become a permanent thing, which was…fine. It was fine) and listed all the contacts that they could remember. Some of them were more reliable than others, and Ashton made notes beside those ones, plotting out who they should speak to first. It was only as the sun began to rise, and Ashton silently cursed at yet another sleepless night, that he remembered that none of those people would know him. They were old contacts, sure, but still long after the incident, and it had taken him years to build up trust and respect with those people. Fuck.
Another glance at Fearne – still asleep- and then Ashton turned back to the list, rubbing their temple to try to alleviate the stupid headache that had been nagging at him for the last few hours. Some might still work, he realised, but he drew a harsh line through the ones connected to Jiana. She had yet to contact them this time around, and he wasn’t about to tempt fate by messing around in her business. When they were done, Ashton looked over the list and cringed. Fuck, were there even any names left?
“Is that a kill list?”
Ashton started slightly and turned to look at Fearne. She had sat up at some point, her long hair a frizzy mess, and was peering over his shoulder with a curious expression.
“Nah,” Ashton passed the list over so that she could see it more clearly, “I was thinking we could pick up some jobs, but my old contacts are fucking useless.”
There was a dangerous glint in Fearne’s eyes.
“That sounds like a challenge.”
Oh boy. Ashton started to smile.
Fearne dumped a pile of jewellery on his lap. It was an impressive haul, Ashton thought, as they glanced over it- probably not worth a lot of money, but Fearne always had an affinity for the more sentimental pieces.
“Did you actually get the things on the list?”
It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened, and definitely not the last, but Ashton’s sore bits were giving them a hard time today, and he really didn’t feel like dragging Fearne back through the market to pick up the supplies they needed. Fearne pouted at him for a moment, before reaching back into her pocket and retrieving the supplies.
“Happy now?” She asked, rolling her eyes.
“Very.” Ashton leaned back on his chair, not quite managing to hide a wince at the burst of pain that splintered through their right arm. Fearne’s eyes narrowed, and she regarded him with a more calculating look.
“I’m fine,” They practically growled at her, cutting off whatever she had been about to say. Fearne retracted the hand that had been hovering near his arm, looking slightly chastened.
“I just wanted to give you some healing.”
“Yeah, I know. Just…”
They rolled their eyes, and, after a moment’s hesitation, begrudgingly held the arm out towards her. She was just trying to help, after all, and it did, if only slightly. Fearne lit up, and a moment later, Ashton felt the warm hum of healing magic work its way up his arm. He offered her a short nod as thanks, and quickly turned away before they could overthink it. Fearne had healed him and the rest of Bells Hells dozens of times. Just because she was practically the only person they could tolerate touching him these days didn’t mean there was anything special there.
“Are we looking for jobs again?” Fearne asked, apparently oblivious to Ashton’s thoughts.
Ashton stifled a groan. They had been at this for a few months now, frequenting places where job opportunities could be found, but while they had managed to pick up some work here and there, it was a lot fucking harder than Ashton had expected. Even if Jiana had miraculously steered clear of him this time around (Ashton strongly suspected Fearne’s influence, but couldn’t prove anything), they weren’t exactly subtle in their appearances. The kinds of people that offered up jobs tended to be after someone a little more covert. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try.
They nodded at Fearne, gently shaking off her hand from where it had settled on his wrist.
“I’ve been watching that dwarf for a bit now- reckon they’ve got something to offer.” He elaborated, nodding subtly in the direction of a redheaded dwarf. They were unfamiliar, but Ashton was well-versed in identifying people in need of bodies. They waved over the bartender, and quickly ordered a fresh drink for the dwarf. It was a process Fearne was more than used to by now, and she waited patiently, fidgeting with one of her newer steals- a rose gold bracelet that Ashton couldn’t wait to acquire at a later point. She hated these kinds of talks, preferring the approach of simply marching up to someone and disarming them with her vivid personality until they gave her what she wanted, but she followed Ashton’s lead when he asked her to.
Another few minutes, and Ashton watched as the dwarf downed their drink and wandered over, giving the pair of them a curious look. They tried not to frown at the way the dwarf’s eyes lingered on Fearne for just a moment too long, the lust in their eyes setting him on edge.
“You’ve certainly succeeded in catching my attention,” The dwarf began, in a faintly pompous tone, “You may call my Kymar. What is it you want, exactly?”
Fearne leaned forwards, her eyes lighting up as she prepared to sweet talk Kymar into giving them some work. Ashton watched Kymar’s eyes drift downwards and settle on her chest with an uneasy feeling in their stomach. He nudged Fearne backwards and shook their head firmly.
“Must be a mistake. I ordered that drink for my friend here.”
Kymar looked miffed.
“I was specifically told that drink came from this table. You-”
“-Have no interest in whatever you’re offering. Good day.” Ashton interrupted.
He tried not to take pleasure in the way Kymar floundered for a moment, looking somewhat reminiscent of a fish on dry land, before they turned on their heel and returned to their own table with a huff. Fearne was their friend, he told himself. Any of the others would have reacted the same to someone leering at one of the girls. Just because Fearne never seemed to care didn’t mean they couldn’t be protective of her.
“What was wrong with them this time?”
Ashton looked over. Fearne was watching him with a peculiar expression on her face. She didn’t seem upset, necessarily, but sometimes it was hard to tell. He shrugged.
“Didn’t like his attitude. Let’s go?”
“Mhmm,” Fearne hopped to her feet, holding a hand out for Ashton to pointedly ignore. They brushed against her side as the pair of them made their way out of the door- a silent apology and an attempt for that bracelet mixed into one. Fearne caught his wrist and Ashton smirked. They could try again tomorrow. For now, he just wanted to go home.