Chapter Text
People call Anya a lot of things that are not her name. Monster. Lunar. Unnatural. She doesn’t know what the words mean, but she is smart enough to know they were meant to hurt. It was obvious with the way they spit them at her like poison on their tongues, faces contorting in disgust or fear or sometimes both. The people in the other place spoke to her like that too. Though, they often used different words or the five-digit code that seemed to be synonymous with her name. LSOP2032. She hated it, but that only seemed to solidify their resolve. Only one person ever really called her by her name, but he always visited so rarely.
It had not taken her very long at all to take up the habit of hiding to avoid the abuse. It was easy in the big cities, ducking through alleyways or behind empty market stalls, but the small town she had found herself in this evening did not offer much in the way of good hiding places. There were a few alleyways, but they were wide, and people did not seem deterred from using them as shortcuts the way people did in the cities. A few garbage cans and various ships parked outside small buildings seemed to provide the most cover she was going to get here, but at this point, it was becoming less of a priority as her stomach continued to growl, twisting painfully in protest of its own emptiness. It hurt more than the contempt, more than the bruises. No matter what, she had to find food. Today.
And she does.
Following the smell of grease and grill smoke, Anya makes her way around to the back of a small brick building sporting a sign she has not yet learned to read. The alleyway is large compared to some of the others around here, and especially compared to those in the cities. It makes her feel less secure, more vulnerable, but before she can decide to turn back and try her luck elsewhere, something tempting catches her eye. A single white ship is parked behind the building. Painted on its side are more words Anya cannot make sense of but that is not the part she’s particularly concerned about. Instead, her gaze fixes on the open back doors and the crates of fresh vegetables they reveal. Her mouth waters instantly and she’s almost tempted to run towards it, but she holds herself back, surveying the rest of the scene.
The only other feature behind the building was a large waste bin that almost ruins the smells of the kitchen with the noxious odors of rotting food, and a metal door sealed shut. She waits a moment and then a moment more, but there are no signs of people. No movement, no voices, nothing. This is her chance. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, Anya lets her feet move her forward, first at a hesitant walk and then sprinting the last few steps. It’s almost a struggle to clamber inside, but Anya remains determined and soon hauls herself up into the back of the ship, peering greedily at each basket of food before she drops to her knees beside the nearest one. Both hands plunge into the crate, pulling out two ripe, red fruits and when she shovels one into her mouth, she’s pleased to discover the familiar taste of tomato.
“Au revoir!” calls Emilie over the bustle of the kitchen as Wolf reaches over Scarlet to push open the door. Scarlet gives her friend one last wave goodbye in response before they both slip into the alleyway, letting the door swing closed behind them.
Though Rieux Tavern had been one of Wolf’s regular haunts during his first two weeks in Rieux, he was almost glad to escape it and the onslaught of senses that was the tavern’s busy kitchens now. Maybe the farm had spoiled him over the last five years with its clean air and quiet tranquility, but the tavern always seemed so loud now, the heady mixture of cooking food, spilled booze, and body odor overwhelming. Though, the back alley wasn’t too much better.
He wraps one arm around Scarlet’s waist as they make their way back to the ship, pulling her into his side. A quiet chuckle escapes her, but it’s quickly silenced when Wolf suddenly pulls them both short of their destination, a finger coming to his lips in a silent warning before she can verbally question his sudden change of pace. Inhaling the warm, stale summer air, Wolf cannot help but notice a new scent underlying those lingering from the kitchens and the sweet, rotting smell of the garbage. A few seconds of stillness reign before suddenly, his ears pick up on a quiet shuffling from the back of the ship.
Unwinding his arm from around Scarlet, he holds up one palm to tell her to stay and slowly moves towards the truck. Every muscle contracts in anticipation, fingers instinctively curling and uncurling, always ready for a fight despite their years of peace. He cannot be sure what he expects to find in the back of their ship, but whatever he expects – from wild animal to faceless enemy – it is not this. Crouched among the few remaining crates of vegetables is a child, a half-eaten tomato clutched in one small hand as the juice dribbles down her chin.
She cannot be more than four or five years old with messy, matted red curls cascading down her back and over her shoulders, and a dirt-stained outfit made of flimsy white fabric that almost looks like someone had turned a hospital gown into some sort of uniform. One look made it obvious this was her first meal in quite some time. Not only did the child appear a little too thin, but Wolf could easily recognize the desperate fervor with which she bites another large chunk out of the tomato, not seeming to notice him standing there in the process. Her gaze was entirely fixed on her meager, stolen meal.
Instantly, his body relaxes, the corners of his mouth lifting into a gentle, somewhat amused smile that stays careful not to show off the sharp points of his fangs.
“Good choice.”
The girl startles, jumping to her feet in one solid movement. The remains of the fruit fall from her sticky fingers. As she shuffles further into the back of the ship, fearful, amber-colored eyes meet his own, her expression hardening a moment later. A slight orange glow begins to shine in her irises but if this surprises Wolf, it is nothing compared to the shock of seeing the sparks at her fingers, fire bursting to life in her palms.
Wolf freezes on the spot, smile fading as he looks from the flames to the hardened expression of the little girl wielding them. Never in all his life has he seen anything like this, but after everything he has witnessed, Wolf can’t bring himself to be too surprised by it. Fingers brush his arm, a sharp intake of breath sounding in his ear, and suddenly he’s aware of Scarlet’s presence settling behind him once again but his gaze never leaves the little girl.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, voice softer this time. His hands lift placatingly. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
The child doesn’t seem to believe it. Her eyes narrow, chapped lips curling into a sneer, but the way she continues to retreat further and further into the ship gives away the terror underneath her tough façade.
“Just let me go!” her voice snaps, rough from what Wolf imagines is lack of use and trembling from what he knows is fear. The fire flares with her words, but the girl seems mindful of her surroundings, keeping it well away from anything flammable. “I’ll have to hurt you if you don’t! I know how! I promise I do! I’ve killed people before! Just because you’re bigger, it doesn’t mean anything!”
The child’s harsh words bring about an immediate tension in Wolf, a low growl catching in his throat before it can sound and scare the child any more than she already is. No one should be able to admit they had done such violent acts, but especially not a child and not with such ease. There is no blocking the images that suddenly flock to the forefront of his mind – memories of a frightened little boy altered forever at the hands of faceless scientists, forced to fight and kill from such an early age that, had it not been for Scarlet, might have changed who he was forever. Memories of so many good people, good kids, whose lives were ruined by those who believed in ingraining cruelty in young, vulnerable minds. The thought of this child, still so small, being forced to endure the same brings anger running hot through his chest. He has to fight to force it down, to stop the spread of it before it reaches his gaze, as he reaches for another tomato from the nearby crate.
“I believe you,” Wolf says calmly, returning his full attention to the girl as his anger steadily cools, “but you don’t have to do that. You can let us help you instead.”
Her expression falls, something like confusion entering her gaze as it locks on the fruit in his hand. The fire dies with her fear, and when he holds the tomato out towards her, little fingers snatch it up greedily. Still, she retreats just as quickly as she approached, even as she sinks her teeth into the juicy red flesh.
Wolf smiles, spine straightening as he glances back over his shoulder.
“Start up the ship?” he asks Scarlet softly. Though the child looks as though she’s managed to go undetected for quite some time, Wolf suspects there’s someone looking for her and every moment they linger here, the risk of her abuser finding her does technically grow. Scarlet nods, moving around to the front of the ship.
“What’s your name?” Wolf asks, green eyes finding the child’s gaze once again.
She looks back at him, hesitates, and then finally answers. “Anya. Nobody calls me that, though.” Her voice is quieter now, softer, more timid.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Anya. My friends call me Wolf.”
He sees a question enter the child’s eyes but before her tongue can form the words, the ship thrums to life and Anya startles once again.
“It’s okay,” he assures her, “but it’ll be safer if you ride in the front with us. We’re going back to our farm now. It’s not far from here. You can come with us if you want to, and we can get you some more food to go with those tomatoes if you’re still hungry.”
As if in way of answer, Anya’s stomach growls. She still looks apprehensive but as he holds his hands out towards her, she slowly approaches. Her hands clutch the tomato as if she’s afraid he’ll change his mind and take it from her. Wolf offers another gentle smile.
“Will you let me help you down?” he asks her. “You can bring your tomato if you want.”
The child fixes him with her stare for another long moment, seeming to seriously contemplate the offer, but in the end, she shakes her head, displacing a few of her curls.
“I can do it myself.”
She comes to the edge, tomato in hand, and looks over. Another moment passes, and then another, and finally she moves to sit, legs dangling over the bumper. One hand sneaks out to claim a second fruit before she turns her gaze back up to Wolf.
“I need help.”
Wolf cannot help the way his smile grows just a little. Giving a gentle nod, he slips his hands under her arms and lifts. For just a second, he has half a mind to put her on the ground, but she’ll need help getting back up again in a few steps anyway so instead, he simply settles her on one hip. His free hand reaches out to push the doors closed as he turns to make his way to the passenger side. Wrenching that door open, he leans in to settle Anya into the middle seat between himself and Scarlet.
“Anya, this is my wife, Scarlet,” he introduces as Scarlet’s hands work to fasten the child’s harness around her. “Scarlet, this is Anya.”
“Nice to meet you, Anya,” Scarlet says as Wolf folds himself into the passenger seat and shuts the door with a final thud.
As the ship moves out of the alleyway and onto the road that will eventually lead them home, Wolf watches as the brick buildings of small town Rieux disappear into the blur of green foliage beyond, and then his gaze turns back to Anya. She sits pressed back against the seat, snacks forgotten in her palms and eyes watering as they take in the blur of the outside world passing by.
“It’s okay, Anya,” he assures, leaning forward to claim her attention. A brief frown shifts into a comforting smile as she looks back at him. “I promise, no one is going to hurt you. Not while you’re with us, okay?”
But she gives no response, her gaze silently shifting back to the window as quickly as it had turned towards him.