Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Monday, September 16th 2013

Another great day in Arcadia Bay, Brooke Scott’s thoughts went, sarcastically echoing the familiar sign at the edge of town. Not.

She stubbornly directed this petulant jab at the world in general as she sat on the quad outside of Blackwell Academy. Her fingers flew across the screen of her tablet, adjusting settings and double-checking everything. It looked like she was good to fly.

Maybe it should have been a great day; the wind was still enough for her to operate her drone, and it was beautiful enough, sitting on the cusp of afternoon and evening, with the sun shining brightly in the September sky.

Her peers who took photography classes called this time the golden hour. It felt a bit more like fool’s gold to Brooke. A pretty nothing, worthy of little more than a moment’s consideration. It was just another damned Monday, no matter what color you painted it. What did it matter to her what sort of hue was cast over the shot, or how the things and people below were placed in the frame? It was enough to see it all clear through the powerful lens of her drone’s camera, as a bird might. No embellishments needed.

Not for the first time, it occurred to Brooke how ironic it was that her attitude toward the arts leaned toward the completely iconoclastic, considering how famed Blackwell was for its arts program. She repped the oft-forgotten science program, sometimes proudly and sometimes grudgingly depending on her mood, and didn’t honestly feel like she owed the artsy kids much regard when they never repaid her in the same.

They could suck it. It wasn’t like the school belonged to them or anything. Well, except perhaps literally, in Prescott’s case. But screw the trust fund kiddies either way. Blackwell would look good on the CV of any college prospect, no matter their desired major.

At the end of the day, Brooke’s choice of school was a matter of convenience, not preference. She often found herself wishing she was in Seattle or San Francisco, making the connections she needed to break into her field once she graduated. But Brooke had grown up in Arcadia Bay, and her fortunes were tied to it, for good or for ill.

Matters of the future may not have been the only complicating factor in her mood that day. If her sour attitude had anything at all to do with the continued obliviousness of one Warren fucking Graham, she certainly wasn’t admitting it. She preferred to blame the ball of paper she’d gotten beaned in the head with in the hall earlier, or Courtney Wagner giving her the stink eye when she’d corrected her work in pre-calc. Sue her for trying to help!

There was one remedy for it all, and it was the sound of her drone’s motors whirring as it rose upward to float above the quad. Her eyes followed it as it went, filled as always half with pride and half with envy. For all her disregard for the arts, the one fanciful notion she’d ever held onto was the freedom of motion that came with being able to traverse the sky like a bird. Maybe if she could fly on her own, she could get out of this dump a little sooner. No need to worry about the continued indifferent hostility of her classmates. She could forget all about her seemingly impossible quest to get the one boy she actually sort of liked to notice she existed.

Maybe the words of the leaving town sign crossed her mind for a reason after all.

Brooke banished all these weighty ideas with a quiet ‘bleh’, tongue stuck out and everything, and started to steer her drone around. She made sure to leave at least ten feet of clearance above everyone’s heads, quickly doing a survey of who was out on the quad this afternoon. It was no shocker that the stoner crew were camped out in their usual spot. Brooke was surprised they hadn’t grown roots there at this point in imitation of their beloved reefer.

A short distance away, there was a trio of girls. She passed a wary eye over Victoria Chase and her friends, who didn’t pay the drone the least bit of mind, happily chatting about something which required their full attention. Chase had the face of an angel, but the words of a devil; Brooke didn’t want to know what inhumanities they were discussing down there. She moved speedily along.

As the drone proceeded, it eventually came across somebody sitting quietly by their lonesome at a bench under a tree, a messy blonde bun bowed low under some unseen weight. Upon hearing the buzzing of the drone however, the figure — Kate Marsh, Brooke recognized after a second — turned her head up and blinked at it. Feeling a little self-conscious, Brooke quickly kept it moving, steering off to the far side of the quad to contemplate the Tobanga instead.

She only kept the totem pole in focus for a few seconds before starting to withdraw. That damned thing always gave her the creeps, as if it was watching her.

Instead, Brooke sent her drone higher and higher until almost the whole campus was in view. It was, she had to admit, a nice view, with the neatly ordered buildings all plainly laid out. She let out a quiet, wistful sigh, one which almost turned to a choke when she heard footsteps approach and then a voice.

“Hi,” it came, tentative, as if expecting Brooke to lash out in response. “Would you mind if I sat with you for a bit?”

The soft tones, hesitantly delivered, belonged to Kate. She looked less pale when not seen through the camera lens, with the sunlight giving her a healthier mien, but no less wan and withdrawn. Brooke was left struggling for a response. Normally she resented such unprompted social contact, but even if she didn’t know or particularly like Kate, that still felt a bit like kicking a puppy.

“Uh, hi,” she eventually answered, her voice thick. “Sure. Lawn’s free.”

Kate set herself down a short distance away, legs closely folded, her white cardigan rumpling a bit where it rested against the ground and unsettled the blades of grass. “Thanks,” she offered, her shy smile retreating as soon as it came. Her eyes turned skyward to the drone again, following its course through the air. “I’ve never really seen a drone before. They’re kind of amazing, aren’t they?”

“A bit,” Brooke allowed hesitantly, preparing herself for the usual incomprehension for the hobby displayed by her peers. Either that or Kate was going to ask to use it for something. Brooke knew how a typical conversation with her classmates went.

Resting her chin in her hand, Kate continued to watch it go, as if envious. “I’m surprised by how it can maneuver in the air like that. It’s strangely elegant… sort of like a dance.”

Like a dance, she said. How poetic. Seeming to forget her lack of affinity for the arts at the first brush of an indirect compliment, Brooke pushed her glasses slightly up the bridge of her nose and began to steer the drone around again. So what if she was showing off?

“That’s why it has four different motors. They can change rotational direction quickly and slow or speed down, letting it tilt and shift in any direction you please. They actually used to be pretty clumsy a few years ago, but they’ve been improving quickly.”

Kate considered that, watching the drone for a moment longer before turning her questioning gaze to Brooke. “Have you been interested in them for very long?”

“As long as they’ve been on the market,” Brooke confirmed proudly. “Though this is my first one. I made sure I knew literally everything about them before getting it; it was the only way to convince my mom.”

“I guess she was worried about the expense?” Kate asked.

Brooke shook her head. “Not the cost so much. She just figured it would be a frivolous waste of my time. And that it might get broken easily.” Her lips quirked in a little grin. “I made a PowerPoint presentation. That won her over.”

Kate chuckled at that. “I don’t think even a PowerPoint presentation would have won my parents over if I wanted something like that. Anything that they took for a distraction from my studies would be a super hard sell.”

Brooke didn’t know Kate’s GPA, but she did know that the two of them had some of the best grades in the school. She chuckled ruefully in return. “Well, there’s at least one thing we have in common.”

Kate’s smile withdrew again as she cast a gaze across the quad. “I’m sorry for bothering you, by the way. I know I’m not exactly your favorite person here. You just seemed safe, and I wanted to get away from—…”

Brooke followed her gaze and found that Victoria and her pet harpies were on the wing, and had migrated toward Kate’s previous bench of residence. Chase herself had her hands set on her hips, and was glaring over at Brooke and Kate with the air of someone whose plans had been interrupted. Oh boy. Here they came now.

“It’s not much of an evasive maneuver when we can see you fifty feet away, Marsh,” Victoria started the salvo with an acid tone. “All we were doing was coming to say hi.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I disappointed you, Victoria,” Kate said evenly.

“Just disappointed in your choice of company,” Victoria rejoined, eyeing Brooke like the crap one scrapes off of one’s shoe. “Ditching us for someone that low on the social totem pole? Honestly, it’s kind of insulting.”

“So lame,” Taylor Christensen added helpfully.

“And Scott in particular,” opined Courtney, wrinkling her nose at Brooke, all full of post pre-calc wrath.

Great, thought Brooke, grimacing. This was so typical; allow the slightest gap in her social armor, and the drama would come flowing in like wind through a drafty window. She put her guard up and bit back with the sort of casual disregard only afforded to those with no desire to be popular. “Personally, I think it’s hard to get much lower than you three. Without being a protozoan, at least.”

‘Oooh,’ Taylor and Courtney sarcastically chorused, while Victoria turned her full displeasure onto Brooke.

“Save the twenty-point vocab words for Scrabble, Scott. As if we care what a non-entity like you thinks of us. Marsh running to you for cover is probably the highlight of your day, isn’t it? It’s not like anyone else gives you the time of day. You were probably sitting here practically begging to be noticed by someone. Someone like… oh, what’s his name…” Victoria tapped her cheek with a cruel smile, knowing full well what name she wanted, but prolonging the torture anyway. “Warren Graham?”

Brooke grit her teeth. How the fuck did Chase know about that?

“Just leave her alone, Victoria,” Kate chided, her tone a perfect example of ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ yielded in an even, gentle voice. “Brooke hasn’t done anything to you.”

Brooke was a little flustered by the save, but at least a little grateful when Victoria’s evil eye passed over to Kate again. “Whatever. Have fun with your newest loser friend, Marsh. You, her and Maxine can have a little dweeb pow-wow. As for us, we have better things to do. Ciao!”

With that and a proud toss of her head, Victoria marched off, her cronies following suit. Brooke relaxed a bit, and saw Kate doing the same, that weight from earlier reappearing once Kate was no longer trying to seem brave. “I really don’t understand what she wants from me,” the girl confessed, her voice small.

Brooke sniffed indignantly and finally brought her drone down to land. It jostled faintly as it came to rest unevenly on the grass, as off-kilter as Brooke herself felt. “People like Chase just want to build themselves up by putting other people down. No doubt she’s got some insecurities of her own.”

Sighing softly, Kate lifted her head to look appreciatively at Brooke. “I thought it was pretty brave of you to stand up to them like that. I believe in turning the other cheek myself, but… even if I didn’t, I think I’d still be too chicken to do the same.”

Brooke rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “No, honestly I think it’s kind of cool the way you responded to them. All calm and unflappable, even if you were upset deep down. That takes some steel in your spine.”

Though Kate smiled at that, Brooke’s mind caught on something the other had said before Victoria and her crew walked up. She tilted her head slightly as she asked Kate, “What did you mean before, when you said you weren’t my favorite person around here?”

Kate blinked, then adjusted her posture a little, more guarded and uncertain again as her eyes went somewhere far away. “Um— back during the first month of the semester, when I started my abstinence club. I heard some of the things you said. I understand, of course, but I just figured it meant you wouldn’t want to spend time around me.”

It took Brooke a second to actually remember what Kate was talking about, but once she did, an almost painful grimace spread across her face. Kate actually overheard that? Yes, Brooke had spoken in less than complimentary terms about what she thought of the abstinence club and the lack of a need for ‘fundie crap’ at Blackwell, just a few short weeks ago. It wasn’t even something she was particularly heated about, but it seemed that her perennial need to vent her spleen about the most convenient target in front of her had unexpected repercussions this time around.

Brooke had just sort of assumed the club to be a judgement on the sinners of Blackwell, but as she took in Kate’s faraway look now, and remembered her kind words a minute ago, she realized that she’d been stupid. Fucking shocker.

”Uh… I’m sorry about that,” Brooke said, fingers nervously drumming on her tablet. “I didn’t know you heard— I mean, I shouldn’t have said it either way. My mouth runs ahead of my mind sometimes, and I guess I end up pissing people off a lot because of that. You seem— nice. You don’t deserve that kind of thing.”

Kate sighed quietly, then tried to smile again, tight at the edges. Still, there was something open in her eyes, if hesitant. “It’s alright, Brooke. I accept your apology.”

Brooke tried to return the gesture. Awkward. Must move things speedily along, and away from the topic of her own bull-headed idiocy. “How’s that been going, by the way?”

“No one else has joined,” Kate admitted with a small shrug. “I think Principal Wells is going to ask me to disband it at some point since I’m the only member and there haven’t been any meetings.”

That made Brooke feel a twinge of sympathy. “Oof, that’s rough. Nobody’s joined my club either, so I know the feeling.”

“For robotics?”

“Nnno, it’s the uh— the Geek Grrls Book Club,” Brooke answered, feeling embarrassed about the name for possibly the first time. “It’s all about science fiction. I figured there might be at least some girls here who were interested in the classic authors like I was, but I haven’t had any bites yet.”

“Oh right,” Kate exclaimed with a raise of her eyebrows. “I remember seeing the flyer. Between trying to get my club up and running, and the Meals on Wheels stuff, I didn’t really give much thought to joining any other clubs. But as long as my own attempt seems to be winding down — maybe I could help save yours?”

Brooke was a little suspicious. They’d just established how much of a jerk she’d acted to Kate, but here Kate was, basically offering to ditch her own doomed club idea to buoy Brooke’s? Something didn’t add up. “You like science fiction?”

Kate’s expression was a little sly. “Does that surprise you? I like all sorts of classical literature actually, but my dad got me into classic sci-fi when I was little. Dragonriders of Pern was always one of my favorites. Ray Bradbury and Ursula K. LeGuin were geniuses. And I’ve probably read a hundred Star Trek tie-in novels.”

Yes, it did surprise Brooke. It took her a second to pick her jaw up off the ground before she could respond. “Uh— well, I mean, if you don’t mind then— y-yeah, I’d be happy to have you along.”

This seemed to please Kate, who shifted to stand up. “I won’t keep you, then. I’ll go sign up. Feel free to drop by my room anytime to let me know about books and meeting times for the club, okay?”

A still stunned Brooke nodded. “Sure thing. Seeya, Kate.”

Once the other girl walked away, Brooke picked up her drone, shaking her head in wonderment. That was certainly no typical conversation. As she made ready to head out, her gaze passed across the Tobanga again, and she recoiled a little. “Oh, Jesus.”

A large, brown eagle was perched on top of the totem pole, staring straight at her. Brooke had never actually seen an eagle before, and guessed that most people around here hadn’t either. She passed an incredulous glance around, but saw that nobody else noticed or cared about this freak occurrence, and were just going along their merry way. By the time she looked again, the raptor was gone.

”I think I’m losing it for real,” she muttered as she walked away, leaving the golden light behind to contemplate what came next.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, September 17th 2013

For the second time in as many days, Brooke was surprised by someone’s voice calling out to her. This time it was in the hallway after chemistry, while Brooke was switching out textbooks at her locker.

“Hey, Brooke, do you have a sec?”

“Warren!” she exclaimed, feeling like her ponytail must have stuck up straight for a second. She scrambled not to drop her notebook as she turned to greet him, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. She was trying to seem casual as she bent a knee to prop her shoe back against the locker, but probably, she thought, still looked a bit like a crazy person. “Uh, sorry— I must have had too much caffeine today. What’s up?”

The brunet boy wore his usual easy smile and a t-shirt with an overly complicated algorithmic formula printed on it. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his posture slightly slouched under the backpack he wore over one shoulder. More importantly than any aspect of his looks, which were nothing too arresting, he was actually paying attention to Brooke. Be still, oh beating heart!

“I was wondering if you were still planning to do that Doctor Who catch-up thing this week? I know you mentioned it a while ago, but we still haven’t really picked a time or day.”

Oh, Brooke almost forgot. She and Warren had floated this idea a couple of weeks before, a quick marathon to recap the latest season of the show before the fiftieth anniversary special in November. She was glad he remembered even when she hadn’t, since this posed that rarest of opportunities: a chance to have some alone time together and, hopefully, get her intentions through that thick skull of his.

“Absolutely,” she said with a grin. “Actually, I’m not busy this week at all. I figure we could do Friday night, if that works with you?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he answered, all full of chipper energy. “I don’t have anything going on Saturday morning, so we can bust out the snacks and party hard for real. Oh— would you mind if I invited Max? She’s not really a super-fan like we are, but she sounded interested.”

Oh.

Maxine. Fucking. Caulfield. Possibly the only girl at Blackwell as socially isolated as Brooke. She was more the quiet and retiring hipster type, lost in her own little world, not antisocial by nature but nevertheless the sort of person who seemingly lived life on autopilot. Pretty, in a waifish, helpless sort of way. Brooke wouldn’t mind her half as much if Warren wasn’t absolutely besotted with her in the most embarrassing way possible.

Brooke wanted to scream and shake Warren by his shoulders, and make it clear that this was supposed to be a one-on-one occasion, but seemingly he’d already mentioned it to Max. And so, feeling too socially awkward to protest, Brooke felt the fight go out of her as she hesitantly nodded.

“… Yeah, sure, that’s fine. If you don’t think she’ll be asking too many questions about what’s going on.”

“Nah, she’s cool.” Ugh. She wished that adorable smile of his would just go away.

As the awkward moment dragged on, the gears in Brooke’s head turned. Well, if he was going to make things that way, then turnabout was fair play.

“Actually,” she said with sly device, “I do know somebody else who might want to come, too.”

A few periods later, it was Brooke’s turn to do the ambushing. After a perfunctory search, she came across one Kate Marsh, her head half stuck into her locker as she rearranged some items inside. Brooke mentally debated playing a joke, but wary of giving Kate a heart attack on the spot like some sort of scared jackrabbit, she just gently cleared her throat instead.

Kate looked up, blinking before offering Brooke a smile. She was in one of her trademark cardigans, her hair once again done up in a loose bun. Brooke found herself envying how pretty Kate was, even without any evident effort; Brooke took considerable cleaning up before she considered herself presentable. ‘Pretty’ was right out.

Still, Kate was looking at Brooke like she was a godsend, which Brooke was not ready to analyze right now. Kate must have really been having a boring day.

“Hi Brooke,” the other girl greeted. “I signed up for your club this morning. I’m guessing that’s what you were going to ask about?”

Brooke stuffed her hands in the pocket of her hoodie and shook her head. “Good to know, but no, actually. I was wondering if you’re busy Friday night?”

Kate raised her eyebrows. “Well, the only thing to do around here on Friday nights is the usual Vortex party, but I don’t go to those. So sure, I’m free. Why do you ask?”

“So, I don’t know if you watch it, but the Doctor Who fiftieth anniversary is coming up in November. So me and Warren were making a little marathon out of the most recent season, just to catch up before the big anniversary special comes out. We were going to do the first half this week and have snacks. Would you be interested?”

Her expression caught between excitement and uncertainty, Kate tilted her head slightly and gave a rather adorable nibble of her bottom lip as she thought about it. “I’ve followed the show on occasion, but I don’t think I caught the last season. That could be fun. Though… are you sure I wouldn’t be interrupting anything, between you and Warren?”

If only, Kate, if only, Brooke thought sardonically. Moreover, was everyone aware of her feelings except for Warren himself? How very pathetic. Nevertheless, this reminded her of the impetus for her asking Kate to start with.

“Nah, it’s not like that. Max Caulfield is going to be there.”

Kate’s eyes brightened. “Max? Okay, if you say it’s alright, then I’m sure the four of us will have loads of fun.”

Christ, Brooke reflected, why was everyone so in love with Max? It might just drive her up the damned wall at this rate. She reined back on that and tried to act like a normal person instead. “Sweet. We’ll meet in my room right after classes on Friday. It’ll run for about five hours, unless we take a break in the middle.”

“Sounds good,” Kate said, shutting her locker. “I’ve got to get going, but I hope I’ll talk to you again soon.”

Brooke waved Kate off as she went, then let out a quiet sigh. She felt a lot better now, though whether it was because of the eternal sunshine that was Kate, or because she’d successfully avenged herself on Warren, she could not say. She counted herself lucky that she’d have a few more days to prepare herself for the next stage of this battle.

Later, Brooke fussed with the wiring of her sound system in her room, choosing to get a head start on working out any kinks ahead of the big get-together on Friday. Technology was incredible, but the downside of any device was the potential for things to go wrong. Brooke had long since learned that maintenance was preferable to repair.

She didn’t stop wrangling with it when her phone rang, but she did drop the wires as soon as she saw the contact name on the screen. Mom? Perplexed, Brooke picked it up and answered, falling back onto her back on her bed as she did.

“Hey,” she started, trying to sound casual, despite the fact that her mom basically never called. Had there been a death in the family or something?

“Hi honey,” came her mother’s voice, sounding tired but not worried. Well, there went one possibility. “It’s not a bad time, is it? Your classes are over for the day, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Brooke confirmed simply. She’d confirmed as such for her mother several times already on past occasions, but didn’t figure it would be productive to point that out.

Despite the strangeness of the situation, her mother still managed to sound perfectly casual as she said, “Great. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was still okay.”

Why wouldn’t it be, Brooke wondered? Brooke’s schooling situation suited both her and her single mother perfectly fine; Brooke had a chance to be independent and stay out of her mother’s hair, and her mother was able to pursue an absolute bitch of a work schedule which kept her out of town most of the time. Quite why she did so escaped Brooke, to be honest; they had money, not the Prescott or Chase sort, but enough to live comfortably, especially with Brooke mostly being self-sufficient and away from home. Her scholarship was secure. It wasn’t like Mom needed to work herself to the bone to support them.

It meant contact between them was relatively shallow and infrequent, aside from holidays, but Brooke was used to it. At peace with it, even, at least until moments like this came along and exposed the fissures underneath.

“Sure,” Brooke rumbled uncertainly into the phone. “I’ve just been focusing on my school work. There’s really nothing too crazy going on.”

“That’s good at least. Are you in any clubs this year? Or still doing that Dungeons and Dragons thing?”

In point of fact, Brooke had never actually done any sort of Dungeons and Dragons thing at Blackwell. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Steph Gingrich, queen and chief DM of Blackwell’s dungeon delvers, had always sort of found Brooke annoying and immature (which Brooke totally did not have a chip in her shoulder about), and wasn’t eager to have her at her table. With Steph having graduated this past spring, the chance had passed anyway.

“No dungeons for me,” Brooke said, her voice flat, “and not much club activity either, to be honest. I think I finally got someone interested in my book club, though.”

“Well, that’s something! Tell me more about this new friend of yours.”

“Are my friends newsworthy now?” Brooke asked, wary. Were she and Kate even really friends yet?

“Sweetie, you barely talk about your friends,” her mother admonished gently. “Any news at all is newsworthy.”

Brooke wished she could say that was another example of her mom being out of touch, but unfortunately it was true. Not so unfortunate that she wanted to change it, mind you. See again: solitary creature. Her chagrin was palpable when she replied.

“Mmh. Well, there’s not a whole lot to tell. I just met this girl, for all intents and purposes. She’s all straight A’s, honor student, very polite. You’d approve.”

“And a science fiction fan apparently, which seems to be the real headliner. I hope the two of you have fun with your club.”

“Thanks,” Brooke answered, a little off-kilter. This was more interest in Brooke’s life than her mom had shown for the last year. What was really going on?

Seeming to detect her unease, her mother changed tacks. “I actually had some news I wanted to pass along while I had you. My contract for this job up in Portland is expiring soon…”

“Oh.” Brooke blinked. “Does that mean you’ll be jobless?”

“Fortunately not.” Brooke thought her mom sounded… a bit excited? “In fact, I already signed on with a different company.”

“Well, great,” Brooke started to say, still not quite sure why this was big news.

“It’s actually back in Arcadia Bay this time. I’ve been offered a nice opportunity to work from home, so we’ll be seeing each other more often. Nice, right?”

Brooke found herself thrown off by this sudden shift. More fissures emerged. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. That’s cool. Quite the change.”

“I know. I’ve got to run, honey, still busy over here, but I love you so much. Talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.” Brooke waited a few seconds, and her mom hung up first. She stayed on her bed, staring at the ceiling. When it came to her life, why was it that good news usually just left her feeling upset?

Chapter Text

Friday, September 20th 2013

Brooke could always trust her entertainment system to make her worries go away. She had an LG widescreen, Bose speakers, and all the kit she needed to stream whatever she wanted. These were, to be frank, the first things she sorted out for her room, well before she spared a thought to the color of the drapes or the position of her bed.

This blessing could occasionally be a curse, when some of the mouthbreathers of the dorm floor begged to borrow pieces of the setup for their own ends. Tonight, though, promised to be a special occasion. She was actually inviting people into her inner sanctum of her own volition for a night of nerdy fun.

Well, nerdy fun and quietly waged social combat. Brooke was sure she’d find some way to get through to Warren tonight, though she had to admit it might be difficult to do so while distracted by the night’s activities.

She’d cleaned the place thoroughly earlier, and just now ordered a couple of large pizzas. Some soda, chips and dip were there already. All that was missing were the guests.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear, for a knock soon came on the door which snapped Brooke out of her contemplations. Perhaps angel would have been more appropriate, as the sunny countenance of Kate Marsh was what greeted her on the other side.

“Hi, Brooke. Am I the first one here?”

“You live a couple of doors down,” Brooke joked, “it would be kinda hard for you to be last. C’mon in.”

“Max lives just as close as I do,” remarked Kate, her eyes sweeping over the room as she entered. “Oh wow. You’ve done nicely with this place. Did you bring all these posters from home?”

Brooke afforded the posters a quick glance. There was one for Revenge of the Sith, one for The Day the Earth Stood Still, one for Grant Imahara’s BattleBots team (her personal hero!), and finally one for the robotics camp Brooke had attended in the summer after eighth grade. “Yup. Got to show off my geek credentials to all, like, two people who ever come in here.”

Kate giggled and set down her bag by the door. A few seconds later, the other two guests made themselves known, as Warren and Max’s voices echoed down the hall, prompting Kate and Brooke to stick their heads out and look. Warren was chatting animatedly about something, which Max seemed to be paying half-attention to, nodding politely. When Max spotted Kate, her blue eyes lit up and she waved excitedly, hurrying ahead of a bemused Warren.

“Kate! I didn’t know you were into sci-fi.” Once Max and Kate collided, they hugged, both laughing.

“I have dimensions, Max,” Kate playfully chided. “I like lots of things. Sci-fi just happens to be one of them.”

Warren caught up with a small puff of breath. “Hey Brooke. Hey Kate. Sweet little get together we’ve got here, huh?”

“For sure,” Brooke concurred, dryly. “Come on, get the rest of the hugging out of the way inside, you’re gonna make me look bad.”

Once everyone was in, Brooke shut the door. Warren went to glance over the snacks, while Max provided her usual invaluable commentary.

“Wowsers,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “You sure rock the nerd chic aesthetic, Brooke.”

Despite herself, Brooke grunted out a small laugh at that. “The Age of the Geek approaches, kids. Only mastodon-type dweebs like me will survive the coming freeze.”

As the others settled in, Brooke reached for the remote and switched the entertainment system on, one piece at a time. Finally, she slipped a burned disk into the Blu-Ray player (the season hadn’t been officially released in the States yet, but Kate and Jesus didn’t have to know that) and sat back, claiming a plate of chips and dip for herself. All four were now reclining on cushions and pillows on the floor. From right to left, they were arranged in the order of Kate, Brooke, Warren, and Max.

As the BBC ident played, Warren leaned forward a little to look past Brooke at Kate. “So, uh, Brooke said you’ve watched a bit of Who before?”

Kate smiled and answered, “I really like the classic serials from the Seventies. I’ve only seen bits and pieces of the rest, but I like what I’ve caught of the revived series too.”

“I really don’t think Matt Smith is as good as the last guy,” Warren opined, unprompted, “but he’s not bad. I think you’ll probably get a kick out of this first episode.”

“Does the revived series have much to do with the old stuff?” Max asked innocently.

Brooke shot a glare at the back of Warren’s head when he turned to start explaining that particular convoluted web. He said Max knew what was up, dammit! She turned her gaze away in annoyance as the title theme started to play on the screen. From the corner of her eye, Brooke caught a confused look from Kate, which she did her best to dissuade with an awkward smile.

The moment passed as the episode got underway. Brooke paid fairly close attention, as while she’d seen this one before, it did come out about a year earlier. Stupid split seasons.

“Oh gosh,” Kate exclaimed as she watched. “What happened to Amy and Rory? They seemed so happy in the last one that I watched…”

Captain Brooke to the rescue. She turned to Kate to bullet point the pertinent bits of the previous season for her, more or less unaware of the fact that she’d just gotten annoyed at Warren for doing the same thing.

It was Kate’s turn to come to the rescue before long, however, when Max posed another question.

“I’m a bit confused. Why don’t the Daleks just wait for the shield to drop and blow up the asylum?”

“Daleks are cowards,” Kate offered. “They’d rather take care of two problems at once by letting the Doctor and his assistants be in harm’s way instead of them. In their origin episode, we see how the Daleks were pretty much formed out of the drive for self-preservation at the expense of everyone else.”

“There’s an origin episode?” Max mused. “Well, that does kind of seem like a no-brainer.”

“It’s super good,” Kate added with a smile. “We should watch it sometime.”

Brooke looked on with an admiring eye. The girl really knew her stuff — and what’s more, had excellent taste. Before she could say much about it, her phone buzzed — the pizza was there. “‘Scuse me,” she muttered as she got up and headed out of the room.

Once out in the hall, she resolved to speed walk to save precious hot pizza minutes. This plan only lasted a second or two before she spotted Victoria Chase along her way. Grimacing internally, Brooke stuck her chin up just in time to pass Victoria, who glared at her suspiciously while hunched in front one of the slates by the doors. Since she was guarding it jealously, Brooke didn’t attempt to get a look and just marched on.

Only after returning minus a five dollar tip and plus two pizza pies, Brooke took advantage of Victoria’s seeming absence to glance at the slate, which she now realized must be Kate’s.

‘Abode of St. Kate,’ it read in floral print. ‘Confessions and indulgences available within.’

Honestly, Brooke was a little impressed with the Scrabble vocabulary Victoria displayed (the hypocrite), but found this too mean-spirited for her liking. She erased it and hurriedly scribbled out ‘KLAATU BARADA NIKTO’ instead. With a little smirk, she headed back to the party.

She returned just in time to find her three guests having a discussion about Dalek politics toward the very end of the episode (what the hell did Daleks need a parliament for?), though it soon came to a halt when they saw what Brooke brought.

“Pizza!” Max and Warren chorused, while Kate perked up in quiet anticipation. Thus began an undeclared pizza break, during which the show was paused and everybody tucked in.

“So what did we think of that one?” Brooke eventually managed to ask around a mouthful of pepperoni.

“It’s alright,” Warren mumbled.

Max was next. “I liked it. Though admittedly I was still a little confused about the plot of that one. Like, if the Daleks want to stay pure so bad, why do they keep the crazy ones alive instead of just, you know… exterminating them?”

“Daleks prize Dalek life so highly since they believe they’re the perfect beings,” Warren put in, having swallowed his pizza. “They don’t want to dirty their own hands with their blood. Uh, so to speak.”

“And yet that one back in the first season felt just fine blowing himself up when he had human DNA in him,” Brooke interjected. “And there was that whole Dalek civil war in the Eighties.”

“Dalek civil war?” Max echoed. “Man, I have a lot to catch up on.”

“I thought it was really nice,” Kate finally put in. “It was about the importance of love, really. It centers love as the most important quality of human nature – the capacity to care about another being instead of cynically using them. And through that lens it contrasts Amy and Rory with the Daleks. Aside from that, the old Dalek props were a nice touch, considering the anniversary. I’m interested to see where they go with that Oswin thing, too.”

“Wow, that’s in-depth,” Brooke observed, voicing the silent admiration on Warren and Max’s faces.

“Sorry. Am I reading too much into it? I get a bit analytical with television.” Kate shuffled on her shoes, gazing bashfully downward.

“Nah, it’s just right. Keep that up. I like how we’ve got a range of opinions here.” Brooke gave an okay sign with her hand.

“My parting thought is that the actress who played Oswin was super pretty,” Max offered, smiling cheekily.

Brooke raised an eyebrow. Was that Caulfield… hinting something at Warren? Warren obviously didn’t notice if so, just laughing it off and nodding in agreement. Good grief, she just all but said that she plays for the other team. Wise up and get with somebody who’s actually interested, Graham!

Huffing and trying to put it out of mind, Brooke glanced over, finding that just over half of the pizza had been demolished. “We good to go on?”

Once everybody signaled the affirmative, the marathon resumed. The leftover pizza diminished piece by piece. The hours passed by, and so did the episodes. The second (“Confusing” again, according to Max, “Meh” according to both Warren and Brooke, “Kind of bland, but not that bad” according to Kate), the third (“Good”, “Okay”, “Pretty good”, and “A really interesting look at the value of mercy and the drawbacks of revenge” respectively), and the fourth (“Pretty good”, “Good but what was that ending”, “Craptastic”, and “I like getting to see more of this family dynamic and I enjoyed the mystery, but yes that ending was pretty bad”, ibid) all went by one after another.

It was a bit past ten as the fifth and final episode of the season’s first half began.

“I think I’m going to need to stop after this one,” Kate confessed with a small yawn. “Sorry, guys…”

“Don’t be,” Brooke said with a small, evil grin developing. “This is the perfect one to end the night on.”

Soon, an enthused Max made a happy connection. “Oh! The Weeping Angels. I’ve seen an episode with these guys. I really liked the way they used time travel mechanics in that one.”

“Do you think you could ever be a time traveler?” Warren posed to the group in general as he watched a cherub-shaped Weeping Angel blow out a match. “Seems like a complicated life.”

“My life’s complicated enough as it is,” Max pronounced, shaking her head.

“It would get confusing fast,” Brooke mused, her head resting back against her crossed arms as she all but melted into her bean bag chair. “You could pull some wild pranks, but I can’t help feeling I’d mess something up in the process.”

“I’m worried it might be too tempting to mess with fate and try to make the world the way you want it,” Kate added, her chin propped thoughtfully on her knuckles. “That doesn’t sound like a healthy way to live.”

The subject passed, and the episode went on. As soon as the Statue of Liberty started marching across Manhattan, Warren scoffed. “Oh, come on.”

Brooke was laughing at his expense, expecting the pedantry. “Not very plaaausible, is it Graham?”

“That part is just so dumb,” he groaned. “It’s three hundred feet tall. How did nobody at all see it?”

“It wouldn’t have made for a very good scene if they had,” Kate pointed out innocently. Brooke snickered wickedly, finding herself satisfied with this answer, while Warren just huffed.

Then, as the episode began to draw to a close, Max and Kate started to realize what they were really watching. “Oh no,” they both chorused as Amy and Rory stood on the roof, dramatic music starting to swell.

Then, out of love for each other, they threw themselves from the rooftop in defiance of their fates. Kate looked like she wanted to cry as she watched them fall, but was trying to hold it together. Bless her heart, she really was invested. Brooke greeted the by now familiar scene with stoic confidence, showing no sign she’d more or less done the same the first time she watched it.

The final tragic punchline played out, leaving the mood of the entire room kind of sniffly, but at the end, Kate was smiling approvingly. “Wow. I really think they stuck the emotional landing there.”

“I know that was only half of a season, but it was pretty good,” Max put in. “A couple of bumps along the way maybe, but the ending really made it.”

“It’s really not my favorite season, but I agree, that’s a good episode,” said Warren.

“The second half is longer, so this will probably be a three week thing,” Brooke piped up, stretching her arms over her head. “I hope that’s cool.”

“I’m so on board,” said Max, beaming. “Watching this show with you guys was really fun, and the snacks weren’t bad either. Thanks a million for hosting, Brooke.”

“You’re a geek legend, Brooke,” added Warren with a grin.

“Thanks so much,” Kate finished it off in a soft voice, smiling warmly at Brooke.

“Ah, well…” Brooke rubbed the back of her head, abashed. “We’re probably going to need a group text to arrange the next ones, anyway. Are there any days that definitely don’t work for you guys?”

After blocking out some days and exchanging cell numbers to get the group text going, Brooke was left alone in her room to clean up, a warm glow persisting despite that.

It only faded a little when she realized, belatedly, that she had been having so much fun, she’d completely forgotten about the social combat dimension. Warren was none the wiser about her suitability as a partner than he was yesterday.

… Meh. When Brooke thought about how happy Kate had looked to be included, that didn’t seem so important after all.

Chapter Text

Thursday, September 26th 2013

The peace in Brooke’s soul didn’t last for very long. It never did, when dissatisfaction reared its ugly head. She could be a bit of a greedy bitch sometimes, but she tended to reassure herself by remembering that she didn’t have a whole lot as it was. A comfortable life, a good school, sure. But happiness – that strange, endangered species – seemed a bit more elusive, slipping through her fingers as if avoiding her out of spite. Brooke Scott could not figure out how to be happy, something which seemed to come so easily for her peers. Was it any wonder that she had a reputation for being “salty”?

Victoria pretending not to have tripped her in the hall on Monday, just cooing over poor, clumsy Brooke Scott in that mocking voice?

Salty.

One of Samuel’s precious squirrels divebombing out of a tree at her drone on Tuesday, necessitating days of repairs?

Salty.

Warren smiling apologetically on Wednesday and saying, “Sorry Brooke, me and Max were actually going to…”

Pure fucking sodium chloride.

Yes, boo-hoo, the poor withdrawn nerd girl doesn’t have any friends. What a tragedy, right? Brooke couldn’t bring herself to cry over it, since it was at least partly by her own design; she enjoyed her private time, and had little taste (or skill) for navigating the social landscape of Blackwell.

She just wished the universe would respect that decision and stop actively trying to make her regret it. Although an avowed atheist, she still couldn’t shake the thought that some higher power had it out for her.

The Warren situation was a wholly different animal, born mostly out of a desire to not miss out on one hallowed high school milestone: the first boyfriend. Despite her desire to mostly be left to her own devices and concentrate on her studies, Brooke did want to be a normal high school girl, or at least as best as she could manage it. Graduating without crossing that off her list would cement her status as a kissless virgin forever. Almost all sources concurred.

Not that kissing Warren was the most exciting part or anything. She was sure it would be fine, probably. But she liked hanging out with him, and the idea of having his undivided attention for once was a rather pleasant one. She was fairly certain that dating him would cinch that.

His obliviousness to the obvious benefits of such a match was only a part of the problem. The other part was Max Caulfield, who, Brooke was pretty sure, had no romantic interest in Warren whatsoever. She was all but broadcasting as much. So why was he still trailing after her?

This had driven her crazy ever since the get-together the week before, but it wasn’t like Brooke had the temerity to come at Caulfield about it and ask outright.

Or such was her plan, anyway, until Caulfield found her first.

A series of hesitant knocks on Brooke’s door was her first clue that something was amiss. She almost didn’t hear it at first from under her headphones, but once she realized the sound wasn’t coming from her game, she pushed her legs out to roll her chair away from her desk, stood up, and walked warily over to answer.

When she found the freckled face of Max on the other side, Brooke just stopped, flummoxed. And when she’d stared a couple of seconds too long, Max lifted her hand stiffly in an awkward wave. “Uh… Hey, Brooke.” Her eyes flitted past Brooke toward the computer. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Nn… no,” Brooke answered after a second. People rarely knocked on her door as it was. Max showing up like this was unheard of. She was finding it a little hard to recover from the back foot on that one.

Max tried smiling. “I haven’t seen much of you in the last couple of days,” she said, a bit of worry coloring her tone. “No drone flights, huh?”

Brooke grimaced at the reminder. “Eugh. No. A fucking squirrel kamikazed it a couple of days ago and the support for one of the propellers snapped when it tilted into the tree. I’m waiting for a replacement part to ship.”

“Wow, that’s… dramatic. Do you have a lot of wildlife issues with that thing?”

“Just with the squirrels, actually,” Brooke grumbled. “I don’t know why, but they always seem to have it out for me.”

After considering the strangeness of such a prospect for a moment, Max asked, “Well… Can I come in?”

Brooke stepped aside to let her, and shut the door once Max was inside. Her guest spared another quick, admiring look for the decor, before turning to Brooke and rubbing her own arm sheepishly. “I was actually hoping for a chance to talk to you about some stuff…”

Settling back into her rolling chair, Brooke rotated it to watch Max warily as the other girl took the invitation of Brooke’s waved hand to just sit on the edge of the bed. “Stuff?”

Still looking intensely awkward, Max angled her head a bit, peering through her doe-brown hair so as to avoid direct eye contact. “About Warren specifically.”

Brooke’s stomach dropped, and her hands tensed where they were previously casually folded on her lap.

Salty.

“What about him?”

“Brooke, c’mon…” Max rubbed the back of her head, not keen on spelling it all out. “I might be kind of oblivious sometimes, but I know the deal with you and Warren.”

Well, there was yet another person who could see right through Brooke, apparently. Why did she try having any interiority at all?

Max went on when Brooke stayed silent. “I just want you to know that you don’t have anything to worry about from me. Warren’s a great friend, but… I’m not interested in him like that.”

Brooke swallowed. She felt a thundering in her temples. “Okay,” she eventually said, slow, careful. “Have you considered informing Warren of that fact?”

Max’s expression faltered. “Um. I’m… still working up to it, to be honest.”

An impatient exhale blew through Brooke’s nose, and she mentally counted to five. “Why are you telling me this, Max?”

“Well, we’ve hung out together a couple of times now, thanks to those watch-alongs. I’m grateful you’ve been including me, by the way. And I think we’re sort of starting to be friends, so it didn’t seem right not to say anything to you…”

The inside of Brooke’s head was buzzing like a nest of hornets. “Okay. You can tell me you’re not going to get in the way, but like– you are, because he’s still trailing after you like a lost puppy because you’re so damn nice to him and you won’t say no.”

“It’s just hard,” said Max, getting more flustered. “I want to, but I’m… scared of hurting his feelings–”

“Oh my God!” Brooke exclaimed, burying her face in her hands. “Do you seriously think what you’re doing is any better? The other shoe is going to drop sooner or later, and it’s going to be way worse if he knows you were just stringing him along that whole time! Do you actually want to tell him or do you just want to leave things where they are because it’s convenient?”

Max was only silent in response, that deer-in-headlights look frozen on her face. She was looking at Brooke like she’d just shed her skin and a man-eating monster sat in her place. Brooke just got progressively more annoyed the longer Max went without trying to defend herself. Fine. She wanted a monster? She’d get a monster.

“Nothing to say?” Brooke prodded, her voice caustic as she glared at Max. “Am I actually right? Well done, in that case! You have his undivided attention and loyalty. It feels great, doesn’t it? And as long as you keep the little fiction up, it’s going to keep feeling great! Everything’s coming up Caulfield!”

Max’s fingers dug into the legs of her pants and she broke eye contact to stare downward, tense, upset, but not rising to Brooke’s bait. Why the fuck was she being so quiet? Didn’t she care that Brooke was ripping her a new one like this? How could somebody who’d caused her so much grief be so damned timid? The continued silence just sent Brooke’s anger careening into the stratosphere.

“You know the funny thing? It doesn’t matter if I’m right or not, because the end result is still the same. You’ll go on hurting him, even if he doesn’t know it, just because… What? You’re too much of a coward? Do you avoid talking to everyone that you’re afraid of disappointing?”

That seemingly struck a nerve, because Max’s eyes snapped back onto Brooke’s again. She went positively rigid, and even more pale than her already fair complexion. Then she flushed, a brief but intense anger flashing in her eyes – Good, Brooke thought, viciously satisfied – before Max picked herself up and stormed out. Brooke didn’t stop her.

Once the door slammed shut, Brooke sagged in her seat, her anger slowly draining out of her until only a hollow, dissatisfied feeling was left behind.

Salty.

She wondered why it didn’t feel justified this time.

Hours later, Brooke was still feeling decidedly empty. At least there were no more random animal attacks or one-sided arguments; Kate’s room was a relative island of peace, and so, all things considered, a good venue for the first actual meeting of the Geek Grrls Book Club.

They were camped out on opposite sides of Kate’s bed – Kate sitting by its foot, Brooke sprawled on her back closer to the headboard – not facing each other, but each staring into the pages of their library copies of Ursula K. LeGuin’s Always Coming Home. Some abortive attempts to discuss it upon the start of the meeting had foundered on the rocks of an unspoken subject standing between them. Kate fidgeted awkwardly on occasion and looked over her shoulder; Brooke stared through the pages at the ceiling beyond, unresponsive.

Kate couldn’t leave it alone forever. Eventually she asked, “Brooke… Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No,” Brooke answered instantly, automatically, still staring at her book but not reading a word. “Should there be?”

The deflection only thwarted Kate for a moment. The girl chewed on her words and then turned a little more toward Brooke, folding her book closed on her thumb to keep her spot. “Max was really upset earlier.”

“What’s that got to do with me?” Brooke was wary. She really didn’t want to get involved in another emotionally involved conversation… more or less ever, really, but especially not twice in one day. She turned her head to pass Kate a look of protest, but based on Kate’s pitying look in return, she thought she’d only succeeded in looking petulant instead.

“I know she went to talk to you this morning.” After hesitating for another moment, she got to the meat of it. “Max really just wants to be your friend, Brooke.”

Ah, yes. There’s that thing Brooke was afraid of: the guilt. Not for how she had treated Max specifically – she still felt at that moment that she was pretty justified in her anger – but Kate getting caught in the crossfire definitely didn’t feel great.

Brooke had, tentatively at least, begun to consider Kate a friend lately. It was still a bit strange to her, but with how much they’d started to hang out, it was pretty undeniable. It was hard to think of two people more different than them, but somehow, Kate was just about the only person who didn’t actively piss Brooke off. She was just easy to be around.

Kate had also been friends with Max since the start of the term. It sucked that she was stuck between the two of them while they were blowing up like this, but Brooke didn’t know what to do about that.

“If she’s serious about that, she should consider being real with the people around her instead of screwing up their lives by staying quiet.” Brooke finally let the book drop onto her chest, folding her hands on her stomach and glaring at the ceiling.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?” Kate frowned. “Max may not always know the right things to say, but she means well.”

“Yeah, well, she sure knew how to set me off,” groused Brooke, faintly annoyed that Kate was contradicting her, but not finding the strength to get truly angry about it. Her fingers fidgeted where they locked together, full of nervous energy. “She seriously came into my room saying she was oh so sorry about– something. But saying she was too socially awkward to actually do anything about it.”

“That’s not what she told me she said,” Kate answered, her voice steady and mild. “She said she told you that she needed some time to work the situation out with… the other person. She just wanted to clear the air with you first.”

Once again there was the feeling that Brooke should have been mad that Kate was taking Max’s side, but instead she felt… well, she didn’t really know what she felt. Kind of like a balloon losing air, she guessed. She knew Kate was right, looking at the situation objectively. Brooke had heard what she wanted to hear in her talk with Max, and had acted like a moron in the process.

This was not a novel experience for her, she reflected with a twist of her lips and a grumble in her chest. “... Okay. Maybe I overreacted.”

The admission won a very small smile from Kate, which let a trickle of warmth find its way back into Brooke’s heart again. It seemed she’d actually managed to say the right thing for once.

“I hope you guys are able to work it out. It seemed like you were having fun hanging out together before your argument.”

Maybe they had. Max was a lot more bearable than Brooke had first suspected. She probably wouldn’t have discovered that if the four of them had never started hanging out together. Maybe they would even be friends if this issue didn’t exist between them.

Brooke’s brain finally gave out under the force of all these admissions to herself, the what-ifs, and the lingering worries about what all of these changes meant for her self-imposed isolation. So she finally spoke up again, a bit lamely, “Can we talk about the book now?”

“I’d be happy to,” said Kate with good grace, reaching over to reopen Brooke’s book back to the page it was on before it had fallen closed. Brooke mumbled a thank-you, and the two finally began to discuss worlds ending, changing climates, and the legacies that we leave behind.

Chapter Text

Friday, September 27th 2013

The damned bird was back again.

It was watching Brooke through the window with an unflinching gaze, leaving her feeling rather like a mouse under a pair of talons. Awfully inconsiderate of it to psych her out like this in the middle of her writing and composition class; it wasn’t her best subject as it is, and now she couldn’t focus worth a shit.

The most annoying part was that, despite a bigass golden eagle parking itself on a branch just outside the window, nobody else seemed to notice. Their eyes were on the board or their textbooks. Their cell phones, in a few furtive cases. Never mind the raptor with a five foot wingspan casually chilling outside.

Brooke had remained nervously silent on the matter so far, honestly afraid to know what the answer would be if she turned to one of her peers to ask. But her natural curiosity won out eventually, despite her better judgement. She turned her pen nervously in her hand as she mumbled to Stella Hill, working beside her, “Do you see that eagle out there? Or am I tripping?”

Stella, confused by the seemingly random question, looked to the window, then at Brooke again with her eyebrow raised. “You’re tripping,” she answered simply.

Okay. Great. Good to know.

The teacher gave the two of them a look and they shut up, the subject passing. When Brooke looked again, the eagle was gone.

Shaken, she left the classroom when the bell rang, trying her best not to think about it too hard. She had enough going on without hallucinations making her question her sanity. So Brooke charged ahead into the hallway, dodging crowds of chattering students. She didn’t stop until she reached the girls’ bathroom, barging through the door and taking off her glasses so she could splash some water on her face.

It was going to be fine. The replacement part for her drone would arrive tomorrow, she’d be able to go for her flights again, and everything was going to be just peachy.

As she fixed her glasses again, one of the stalls behind her opened, and she froze. Max Caulfield stood staring back from the mirror. The two were suspended in mutual, awkward bafflement for a moment before Max crept forward. Socially awkward situation or no, she obviously wasn’t going to escape the restroom without washing her hands. She stopped at the basin next to Brooke’s and started washing, her head bowed.

After a second to muster her courage, but not so late that Max had a chance to get away without hearing her, Brooke spoke in a quiet murmur. “I’m sorry.”

Max paused and glanced up at Brooke from slightly guarded eyes, though her surprise still showed. “... It’s fine, Brooke.”

It really wasn’t, and Brooke’s face pulled into a bit of a grimace for a second as she struggled not to shout as much loud enough for the kids in the hall to hear. She stopped herself and sighed, then went on with what she actually wanted to say. “I was a dick to you. And… I want to make it up to you somehow. If you still want to be around me, at least.”

Max turned off the faucet and slowly dried her hands, staring at Brooke’s chin to avoid direct eye contact. She looked pensive. “It’s not like you were totally wrong about everything you said to me,” she said, her voice quiet. “I need to get better about… that stuff.”

“It doesn’t matter if I was right or not,” Brooke argued. “Jumping down your throat like that was wrong. And… kind of hypocritical, to be honest. We're… more similar than I’d maybe like to admit. I don’t like hard conversations, either.”

Max accepted all that with a threadbare smile, then let her walls down a little. “I accept your apology, Brooke. I kind of admire the fact you’re brave enough to say what’s on your mind. I’m not the best at that.” When Brooke just shrugged at the compliment, Max went on. “Let’s try and start fresh. I’ll see you for the Doctor Who thing tonight?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Brooke said, returning it with an awkward smile of her own. “Uh. Gotta run. Later, Max.”

With a wave, Brooke left Max behind, taking a breath as she emerged into the hallway and speed walked to her next class. All things considered, that could have gone a lot worse.

After classes that day, Brooke found herself walking the quad. It was gray but warm, the leftovers of earlier rainfall slicking the sidewalks and spangling the grass with drops of water. A white-and-black bunny hopped sedately along, occasionally pausing to sniff in the grass. Safely tethered to its owner’s hand by a little harness, the rabbit proceeded only a little bit at a time, with Kate and Brooke slowly wandering behind.

Brooke had to admit, she’d never seen somebody walking a rabbit before, but Kate’s steady sureness and familiarity with the process just about managed to convince her that it was perfectly normal. Sure, fine, she’d buy into that; Alice the rabbit needed her walkies, and Kate and Brooke were the only dudes bad enough to give them to her.

Keeping her hands firmly in the pockets of her hoodie, Brooke swiveled her gaze here and there, chiefly keeping her eyes on the skies. She had unconsciously assigned herself the role of Alice’s security detail; there were, after all, eagles about. Well. Maybe.

“So,” said Kate, calling Brooke back to earth again, “I saw in the group text that all four of us are still attending the thing tonight?”

Brooke saw where this was going, and looked at Kate with a gimlet eye. “Yeah, yeah, me and Max had a talk and we’re going to try and get along. Feel free to humblebrag about being right to your heart’s content.”

Kate feigned shock. “Why Brooke, I never brag! … And I’m always humble!”

It took Brooke a second to get the joke. When she did, she laughed, Kate’s lighter giggle chasing behind it. As she came down from that, Brooke noticed Victoria giving the two of them a dirty look from across the way. The girl just kept marching after a second, destined for elsewhere, much to Brooke’s private relief. She was in too good a mood to worry about it for long, though, turning to speak to Kate again.

“Thanks anyway. You really did help me get my head screwed back on straight.” An admission she was a little shy about making, but she meant it earnestly, at least.

“Of course, Brooke. Any time, as long as you don’t think it’s too overbearing.” There was a trace of amusement beneath her smile. “I’m used to mediating for my little sisters.”

The fact that Kate was a big sister, Brooke thought, explained a lot. She certainly hoped Kate didn’t see her that way; the thought made her feel awkward, for some reason. Because it would be patronizing? Yeah. That was probably it.

“How many sisters do you have?” Brooke asked instead. It occurred to her that she didn’t really know much of anything about Kate’s family.

“Two. Their names are Lynn and Grace.” Kate beamed with pride just thinking about them. “Lynn’s ten and Grace is fourteen. What about you? Any siblings?”

Brooke shook her head. “No. It’s just me and my mom, really. We’ve lived together in the Bay for most of my life.” With her mom frequently elsewhere for work, she does not add. “Having sisters might have been fun. It was always kind of lonely in the house.”

Kate’s expression was sympathetic. “I can imagine. Mine can be a bit of a handful – they have very different tastes and they butt heads sometimes – but I love them both to bits. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to grow up without them. They still live with my parents right now of course. My dad’s a really nice guy. He preaches at our church, and my mom does community outreach.”

Brooke thought that Kate sounded slightly less enthused talking about her mom than the rest of her family. It did make her wonder something, a question she voiced after a moment. “And they were cool with you going to an artsy school like this?”

Kate shrugged and hid her eyes from Brooke by turning her head, more subdued than before. “I grew up in Arcadia Bay, so Blackwell was always in the cards. The arts are my passion, so… it seemed like it was meant to be, with one of the best schools in the country in my hometown.”

This, Brooke perceived, did not quite answer her question. She watched Kate inquisitively, the three of them having slowed to a stop. Alice had found some clovers to munch on, ignoring the two of them while this exchange played out.

Noticing Brooke’s silence, Kate passed her an apologetic look. “... Not really. My dad has been lovely. Very supportive. My sisters are excited for me. It’s… just my mom, really. She was set on her own ideas for my education, and she’s… concerned that being in a setting like this will lead me away from Christ. You know– that I’ll be tempted.”

This type of religious anxiety was more than a bit foreign to Brooke. Her mom had given her a fairly agnostic upbringing, and after years immersed in the online world, Brooke was decisively an atheist. Still, she would have to be blind not to see how this conflict was hurting Kate, even if the other girl was trying to conceal the worst of it. So she tried to be gentle. Well, gentle for Brooke Scott, anyway.

“With all respect to your mom, Kate,” she sighed, hands on her hips, “that’s fuckin’ stupid.”

Kate turned her head to Brooke, her eyebrows raised. Even Alice looked her way, still chewing a mouthful of clover. Neither stopped Brooke from going on.

“You’re genuinely one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met – and the hardest working. Like, you manage to maintain a 3.9 GPA, look after your bunny, spend time with me and the others, and run your charity thing–”

“Meals on Wheels,” Kate mumbled, dazed.

“Yeah. And you do it all without being mean to a single person. You’re full-in on Paragon. I don’t know much about Jesus, but I know a good person when I see one. That’s not going to change just because you came to Blackwell.”

Kate lowered her head and fussed with the leash of the bunny harness in her hand. Brooke was surprised to see a rosy blush spread across her face as well as a smile. “... It’s very kind of you to say all that, Brooke. I know all that, on an intellectual level at least. But I do doubt, sometimes, despite that.” She trailed off with a little sigh, then met Brooke’s gaze, her smile shining as brightly as a full moon. “I still appreciate you trying to make me feel better. Don’t worry about me too much, okay? I’ll get by.”

“Yeah,” Brooke responded as they started to walk again at Alice’s insistence, ignoring the small heat she felt rising to her own cheeks. Why was making friends so bad again? She suddenly couldn’t remember. “Don’t mention it.”

Chapter Text

Saturday, September 28th 2013

The replacement part came with the Saturday morning mail, and Brooke immediately dropped everything to set about finishing the repairs to her beloved B400 EVO. She prided herself on the fact that she didn’t usually get into incidents where the poor thing needed fixing, but that didn’t mean she was any slouch when it came to patching the drone up. After situating the new part and remounting the propeller, it was in working order again, like nothing ever happened.

Pleased with this outcome, and brimming with fresh energy, Brooke scurried out onto the lawn to give it a whirl. It was another cloudy fall day outside, but the weather was otherwise fair, without much of a noticeable breeze. Optimistic, uncharacteristically so (but earned, as far as she was concerned), she set herself up and switched the drone on to let it fly.

The EVO rose smoothly, proving that Brooke knew her stuff, and promising a successful test flight. It held steady in the calm air, and there weren’t any concerning sounds coming from it. Excellent. 

Then Brooke stopped the ascent at about ten feet, her smile dying on her face. She had an unwelcome audience.

Frozen on the spot, she looked between the two closest trees, a tall oak and a maple. About two dozen squirrels had all taken up positions without her noticing, manning the boughs like battlements, and were now staring at her – and her drone – with tails twitching. Their dark eyes seemed altogether more alert and intelligent than rodents ought to be. That expression… For some stupid reason, Brooke was entirely convinced that it was some sort of malice. An alien hostility which certainly didn’t belong on the faces of animals as dumb as these.

“No,” she warned, slowly. “Nooo. Don’t you even fucking think about it.” She let the EVO drop back into her arms, holding it defensively. Brooke was too young to contract rabies, but dammit, she would if it meant stopping her drone from getting busted again the moment she had it fixed!

The squirrels twitched, a few tensing as if about to jump. But before the onslaught could begin, a strange breeze passed through the treetops, producing a sound like large wings flapping. The squirrels flipped their shit, bolting and diving away from Brooke and scrambling down the trunks of the trees. That now familiar eagle landed on the newly vacated oak, the branch somehow not bending under its weight, while squirrels scattered in every direction, disappearing into the distant undergrowth. The raptor glanced at Brooke and held her gaze for an instant, but soon it flapped and took off again, leaving the befuddled girl behind.

“Wow,” somebody’s surprised tone sounded from nearby, “I don’t know if I was feeling more Alfred Hitchcock or National Geographic from that.”

Brooke’s head turned slowly that way. The stranger’s shock of blue hair was the first thing she noticed, the grungy clothes and beanie the second, and the stack of papers clutched in her hand an incidental afterthought. She was more concerned about what the blue-haired girl had just said. “You saw the eagle?”

“Dude, that thing’s huge,” she answered, raising a skeptical eyebrow at Brooke. “How could I not see it?”

Brooke’s mouth clamped shut. How indeed? Before her head could start hurting too much over the implications, the stranger started talking again as she walked a bit closer.

“Have you done something to piss off the local fauna or what?”

“I honestly have no clue,” confessed Brooke, exasperated. “Is it something on my face? The conditioner I use? Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Well, at least your drone escaped unscathed.” She eyed the EVO and whistled. “Sweet gadget. How much did it cost?”

“Uh, between the drone itself, the camera lens, the tablet and all the extra software and tools, like, $1,800?” It was a couple of barren Christmases after that, she reflected.

“Jeeeesus,” the blue-haired girl uttered, resting her free hand on her hip. “If I could afford something that cost that much – well, that’s never happening, but I’d probably swaddle it in cotton, not fly it around.”

“What good is a drone if you don’t fly it?” protested Brooke, still holding her sweet baby protectively.

A carefree shrug accompanied the response. “It’d probably make a hella cool shelf decoration.”

Hella? Who actually says that? As Brooke stared more, she gradually started to find this girl vaguely familiar. No way was she a student, though; that dye job could be seen from the ISS, so she would have remembered it if they shared classes. “What are you doing here anyway?”

The girl blinked, as if it hadn’t occurred to her that she might be questioned on that. “Oh, I was just…” She jostled the stack of papers in her hand lamely, prompting Brooke to take a closer look at them.

The face on the papers belonged to Rachel Amber. Brooke remembered her pretty well, just like everybody at Blackwell did. For all that they’d never spoken a word to each other, Brooke could still clearly picture her confident stride, her casual grin, and the ease with which she drew those around her into her orbit. She was an impossible girl, somebody who simply seemed to live on a completely different planet than Brooke did; as incomprehensible and unreachable as a Kuiper Belt object. Is it any wonder she passed out of everybody’s lives like a comet? Brooke heard she was living like a star in LA now, so she didn’t understand the purpose of the missing posters she saw in front of her, or why this girl was seemingly putting up dozens of them. It seemed redundant.

No, wait… Substitute the blue for strawberry blonde, and she was a dead ringer for that punkish girl Amber had always been hanging around with.

Oh.

“You were expelled,” Brooke recalled, a little suspicious now.

“Huh, someone does remember me,” the mystery girl mused. “It’s the hair that threw you off. I get it. Love your highlights by the way – is it like a 3D glasses thing?”

Brooke chose her red and blue highlights because of a character in a webcomic she liked, who just so happened to be a smartass computer programmer. She wouldn’t admit it in polite company, though.

“Uh. Yeah, something like that.” She let it drop with another pensive glance to the posters. “I wondered where all of those were coming from. Are you like– allowed to be here?”

“Eh, well, let’s not get hung up on the details,” the other girl answered, her voice shaky with either laughter or worry. Perhaps both; her expression looked mischievous, at least. “I was gonna paste these up and get a move on, but I saw your little faceoff and came over in case you needed help. No need, though. You’ve got an eye in the skies.” A vague, hand-twirling gesture at the drone. “Well, a second one aside from that, I mean.”

So she did. Brooke frowned, stuck between pondering the eagle saving her and this girl trying to do the same. “Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it. Girls with blue in their hair have got to have solidarity.”

“Hey!” a man’s voice shouted from some distance away.

Brooke tried to turn her head and look, but she abruptly whipped back again when the mystery girl pressed the stack of papers into the crook of Brooke’s elbow, leaving them there. “Oops! That’s my cue to go! Hey, speaking of solidarity, do me a solid and put these up? Seeya!”

With that, she was sprinting off, leaving a flustered Brooke behind. A second later, Madsen, the security guard, came to a stop near Brooke mid-jog, looking even more irate than usual, his shitty mustache twitching as he watched the girl disappear off of campus property. He turned to give Brooke a glare as she got her shit together – plus the stack of posters now, apparently – and started to beat her own slightly less hasty retreat.

“Uh, sorry. Didn’t see nothin’,” she squeaked before escaping to the dormitory.

That evening, a short ride on the bus and an even shorter walk brought Brooke from Blackwell to the front yard of her childhood home on the far side of Arcadia Bay. A late nineties two-story, whitewashed with a gray tiled roof, it sat in one of the town’s more upscale neighborhoods. A seemingly endless row of identically bland homes marched down the street on either side. The lights were on inside.

Its neatly trimmed lawn and tidy exterior belied the fact that nobody had actually been living here for a while; Brooke last stayed here for six weeks over summer break, and her mom had been more or less living in Portland for the better part of a year due to the demands of her job. There was a nice lady her mom had hired to watch over the place while it was otherwise unoccupied, and whom Brooke assumed was to thank for the trimmed grass and hedges.

If you didn’t look too hard, it almost looked lived-in.

Scuffing the grass with a shoe, Brooke finally gave up on stalling and went to open the front door. She found it unlocked, and when she stepped inside she was immediately hit with the familiar smell of the house – vanilla, and fresh paint, and her mom’s laundry detergent – mixed with the new scent of food wafting from the kitchen.

The front hall was somewhat nondescript, nothing adorning its plain white walls but a photo of her and her mom at Disneyland back in second grade. (She had ridden Space Mountain no less than six times that day. Squee.) To the immediate left were the stairs, and on the other side of that were some couches which rarely, if ever, saw use.

“Brooke!” her mother called from further down the hall. “That’s you and not a stranger, right?”

“Nope, roving slasher here to paint the place with your blood,” Brooke responded, monotone. She entered the kitchen at a lax pace, her hands stuffed in her pockets, and beheld her mother. Vera Pham-Scott was in her early forties, thin, her dark hair cut short in a businesslike bob. Brooke imagined she’d probably look a lot like that in twenty-some years. There were worse fates.

“Brooke Ánh Scott,” Vera sighed, a hand resting on her hip. She was standing by the kitchen island, still in black work slacks and heels, but her similarly black blazer draped over a chair nearby to leave her in a white button-up. “You can be so morbid sometimes. I know you didn’t get that from me…”

Ooh, the much sought-after middle name drop. Brooke would take that as a badge of honor for a joke well-done. “There’s a darkness in me,” she said simply.

“Oh, enough of that junk. Give your mother a hug.” Brooke tensed a little when Vera stepped over to envelop her in a tight embrace, her arms hanging at her sides for a second before she managed to lift them and, awkwardly, hug her back. She’d never been much good at these.

When it broke off, she looked over at the kitchen table. Brooke hadn’t really been surprised when her mom had asked her to come over for dinner, now that Vera was settled back in at the house. Some attempts to make up for the previous distance between them were to be expected; the same had happened the last few times. It was equally unsurprising that this didn’t actually involve cooking. Brooke was not entirely certain that Vera knew how to cook, in fact, and the two large bags of takeout at the table reinforced that notion.

“The guy at the shawarma place greeted me by my first name, can you believe that?” Vera spoke as she ambled over to sit at the table, inviting Brooke to do the same. “There’s no indictment of your eating habits quite like fast food workers starting to know you personally…”

“Don’t look at me for a save, Blackwell’s home econ class barely even taught me how to make cookies, let alone a decent meal.” Brooke shrugged, sagging into her seat and making grabby hands for the nearer of the two bags. She started to pull the stuff out and set it on the table, occasionally peeking across at her mother as she did the same, attentive but too awkward to set the pace for the conversation.

“So, that’s not your subject,” Vera observed casually. “What about the others? Has everything been going smoothly?”

Brooke, just about to tuck into her meal, turned her fork over in her hand, masking her annoyance with an indifferent look. She was sure they’d talked about this recently. “Yes, Mom, my grades are fine, all A’s in everything except writing and composition, where I’ve got a B.”

Vera wagged her hand apologetically. “I know, I know, I saw your latest report card. I really just wanted to know if you were enjoying them fine. Are you happy with how you’ve been doing?”

Oh. Brooke was jumping to conclusions again, it seemed. She shrank a little in embarrassment and answered. “Well, uh. Yeah. I’m pretty happy with where my grades are at. My electives are great, and their teachers are seriously top-notch. I really don’t care for the required arts credits, but I’ll muddle through anyway.”

“I’ll bet you’re those teachers’ favorite. I still remember how your elementary science teacher lit up when you managed to get that motorized solar system model moving.” Vera’s expression was warm and fond.

Brooke breathed out a laugh. “Ms. Grant likes me fine, but the others think I’m a huge smartass.”

“Well, I think you’re a very special smartass,” her mother said soothingly.

Brooke couldn’t help a small, awkward giggle. It struck her that when she and her mom found time to talk, they actually got along well. Her mom knew enough about the sciences to at least drive the conversation, even if she didn’t understand all the particulars Brooke brought up. And despite any implications that Brooke’s long-dead father was responsible for her dry humor, she was sure she actually got it all from her mom.

It’s just that it always ended, sooner or later, with another protracted separation.

Her smile faded from her face. She wondered how long it would take this time.

At least there was food in front of her in order to excuse her sudden, moody silence. It was pretty good, too. Still, she couldn’t draw it out forever, and when she looked up again Vera was watching her pensively, her chin resting in her hand.

“So school’s fine. It sounds like you’ve been hanging out with the other students more. Is there something else going on, Brooke? Because you seem… upset.”

There really wasn’t any way to squeeze past a question like that. Brooke squirmed uncomfortably. “Just…” She conjured scraps of her various annoyances from the past several days, assembling them into a sensible answer on the fly. “I’m not really sure what my life is going to look like after Blackwell. In a way I’m eager to put it behind me. Some of the people there are serious assholes, and you know how close-minded this town can be.” Seeing Vera nod, Brooke took courage and continued. “But it’s also kind of scary. So I don’t know. That’s been on my mind lately.”

She decided to omit the various wildlife encounters which had been vexing her recently. She’d never had to see a therapist and she didn’t feel keen to start now.

“You’ve still got a whole year and a half in Blackwell’s extended senior program,” her mother assured her, reaching across the table to hold Brooke’s hand. “Trust me, when I was eighteen I was even more clueless about my prospects. I’ll be here to help you.”

I hope so, Brooke thought, then looked down at her food. She had managed to mostly finish it. “I’m gonna run up to my room for a bit and have a look around. I think I might’ve left a couple of things I wanted. I’ll be back to chat again before I leave, though. Promise.”

At Vera’s nod and encouraging smile, Brooke took her dish and silverware to the sink, then escaped upstairs. Her room was pretty barren; she’d taken almost everything to Blackwell back in August, and she suspected her mother knew as much and had just let the fib go unacknowledged.

Brooke laid back on the sheetless bed and stared at the ceiling, little discolored blotches still left by the glow in the dark stars that had once been glued up there. In the absence of their light, she lingered a while, once again trying to make sense of her life.

Realization didn’t come that night, but at least she didn’t go hungry.

Chapter Text

Sunday, September 29th 2013

Brooke’s mother, in the end, had accepted Brooke’s decision to not stay the night graciously. Although she offered to put some sheets on the old bed, Brooke had still invoked the need to study for some unspecified upcoming test. If her mom thought something was amiss in that excuse, she didn’t say so.

Brooke caught the late bus and returned to the comforting familiarity of her dorm room at Blackwell, where she spent some time relaxing, then ran heroic dungeons in WoW until the wee hours before surrendering herself into the arms of Morpheus.

She returned to the waking world late Sunday morning and sat groggily in bed for a while, her hair loose and messy, glasses on the bedside table. She could afford to rot for a bit like this when she didn’t have any morning classes to get to, and often did; it was nice to switch her brain off for a while, every now and then. Her zombified trance eventually ended, and she slumped out of her room to go to the showers and rinse off.

On her way back, she paused at Kate’s door, almost rapping her knuckles on it to wish her a good morning, before stopping herself when she realized she wouldn’t be there. Right. She’s with her family most of the day on Sundays. Church stuff. Her gaze passed over the slate by the door. Currently it simply stated: Psalm 34:18.

Brooke didn’t have the first idea what that meant, of course. For as much as she and Kate had started hanging out recently, religion was still a subject that didn’t come up. Brooke still privately thought it was all a bit silly – but she wasn’t going to be an asshole and say it in front of Kate or anything, and seemingly Kate wasn’t eager to shake things up by introducing the subject herself. It was a somewhat tenuous arrangement, but it had worked for them so far.

Brooke scratched her neck and turned away from the slate. It wasn’t until she got back to her room a minute later that she was able to pick up her phone and decipher its meaning:

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

It seemed like the sort of passage meant to assuage pain and anxiety, and make people feel like there was someone strong in their corner. But who was Kate directing it at? The others on the floor? Or herself?

The question remained lodged somewhere in the back of Brooke’s head until Kate returned in the mid-afternoon. Based on the evidence of the previous Sunday, Brooke had honestly expected not to see Kate until dinner time. In the blonde’s eyes, she saw the same weariness she’d spotted once before, that first afternoon they actually talked to each other.

Before Brooke could ask if anything was wrong, Kate just gave a tired smile and asked, “Are we still on for today?”

And so it was that their planned hangout with Max went ahead, just a couple of hours earlier than Brooke anticipated. Max proved game to the adjusted plans anyway, and soon the three were ensconced in Brooke’s room to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender together. Without a convenient means of getting Netflix onto her TV, Brooke opened her laptop and sat on her bed, Kate and Max to either side so they could lean in and watch.

This was Kate’s first time actually seeing the show (“My mom never really let me watch anything with Eastern spirituality in it,” she’d sheepishly admitted after Doctor Who that Friday), so Brooke and Max were only too eager to contribute to her cultural education. Kate didn’t seem all that reluctant to give it a try, either. By the third episode she was smiling, and seemed a bit lighter.

While Kate and Brooke were transfixed on the last fight scene of the episode, Max was reaching for the bedside table where she’d left her water bottle. It was a mercy there was a cap on it, because she fumbled, the plastic slipping along her fingers, and almost dropped it. She succeeded in catching it by the top of the bottle before it dropped, but half of a stack of papers went spilling to the floor instead. “Oh, crap– sorry, Brooke,” Max said, chagrined.

Brooke felt a small flash of annoyance about the clumsiness, but quashed it. She had been doing an okay job of getting along with Max since their last talk, and she wasn’t keen on the idea of letting that slip just because of some stupid papers. At least there wasn’t water everywhere. “It’s fine,” she sighed after a second as Max leaned off the bed a bit to go pick them up.

Sitting back up again, Max looked the missing posters over, quizzical. “Who’s Rachel Amber?”

That turned both Brooke’s and Kate’s eyes her way. Kate looked at the poster too and hummed thoughtfully. “A Blackwell student. She’s been missing since April. I never really knew her, to be honest… we lived in very different worlds.”

“Yeah, that goes double for me,” Brooke added. “To tell you the truth, I’m pretty sure she just ditched and went down to California. She didn’t make a secret of her dislike for the Bay; even I know that much.”

Max considered that, staring at the photo on the poster with a strange look in her eye, like she was trying to divine more secrets from the face of the girl on it, before glancing at Brooke. “So, um… If you didn’t know her, what’s the deal with the posters?”

Thus the story came out, little by little, of Brooke’s encounter with the blue-haired girl the previous morning. Once again she carefully omitted any mention of seeing that eagle before, but she did describe the squirrel encounter, albeit with the shy manner of somebody not really expecting to be believed.

“Well, that’s… weird,” Max eventually decided, a thoughtful frown on her face. “It does sound like you did something to set the squirrels off, but I didn’t think that they were actually smart enough to gang up like that. I mean, Samuel mentions talking to them sometimes, but I sort of figured that was just Samuel being… you know… Samuel.”

“Any chance of getting him to intercede on my behalf?” The whole situation was ridiculous, but frankly, Brooke was willing to try anything if it kept her life somewhat normal.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Max answered with a weak laugh. She’d sorted the toppled posters back into a neat pile, setting them back on the bedside table where they were before.

“That is pretty strange,” Kate agreed, her voice soft and thoughtful. “But… it was awfully nice of that girl to try and step in. And nice of you to offer to put up the posters for her, Brooke. She must miss Rachel a lot.”

It wasn’t strictly accurate to say Brooke offered anything, but she did not correct Kate. “I haven’t really found the time, but… Mmh. Yeah. I got the sense that they were close. They were always hanging out together, before this chick was expelled, at least.”

“Someone actually got expelled from Blackwell? What was her name?” Max leaned in, curious.

Brooke still didn’t know the answer, and neither did Kate, based on her own silence. They hadn’t attended classes together with this girl for well over a year, and never exactly talked before then anyway. Brooke seemed to recall Victoria bitching about her on a few occasions, though, hissing her name like a curse.

“I think her name’s Kari?”

“That sounds about right,” Kate concurred hesitantly. Max hummed and absorbed the information, though her attention was now clearly drifting back toward the paused cartoon.

Kate still had a last thought to share, and she did, looking at Brooke with a worried frown. “I hear she runs with a bad crowd now. I know she was nice to you, but – please promise you’ll be careful around her, Brooke?”

Somewhat abashed by the clear concern shining on Kate’s face, Brooke chuckled awkwardly. “You don’t have anything to worry about there, Kate, I promise. I’m really good at keeping myself out of trouble.”

Chapter Text

Monday, September 30th 2013

Brooke’s stapler let out a muffled click as she pressed it into the paper, firm against the corkboard underneath. Once she heard the noise, she pulled back and inspected her work to make sure the poster had gone on straight.

Truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure what she got out of putting up Kari’s posters. It wasn’t like they ran in the same circles or anything, and Kari hadn’t exactly asked either. Still, after her conversation with Kate and Max the day before, Brooke thought she’d feel like a shithead if she just threw them out. It’s not like she had a whole hell of a lot going on between her classes, anyway.

Her reverie was eventually interrupted by a sickly-sweet voice. “Oh, wow. This is new. I can’t say errand girl is a flattering look, but… honestly, it kind of suits you, Scott.”

Brooke slowly turned her head to meet the gaze of Victoria Chase, who was leaning her shoulder into the wall nearby, her arms primly crossed. A smug little smile was worn on her lips, one which Brooke returned with a flat scowl as other students bustled past. Apparently she was without her little helpers today; that, at least, was a mercy.

“Don’t you have something better to be doing, Victoria?” Brooke asked, staring holes into the corkboard as she tried to seem like she didn’t care.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” the blonde replied. “That’s a pretty dry well you’re trying to tap there. Amber’s long gone, slutting it up in Hollywood for all we know; the only one who cares anymore is that ratty-ass punk bitch. Does she have dirt on you or something?” Then, with gleeful relish, “Ooh, or maybe she promised you favors?”

“I– what? ” Brooke finally ceased trying to ignore Victoria, her cheeks burning, fixing the other girl with an incredulous glare.

Victoria casually went on, seeming to thrive on Brooke’s discomfort. “I could definitely understand you being tricked by that nice jawline, but I’m almost certain you’d need a rabies shot or something after a tumble with her.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t even like girls.”

“You could’ve fooled me, with the way you act like a white knight for Kate Marsh,” Victoria shot back, her voice dropping a little, unable to disguise her disdain. “Defending her, guarding her room slate, watching out for her on those weirdass bunny walks of hers... It’s either momma hawk behavior or the most retch-inducing, doomed puppy love I’ve ever seen.”

Brooke’s hand slapped against the poster on the wall in agitation as she turned more fully toward Victoria. “Hey, or maybe, just maybe… it’s none of your business, Chase!”

“Hah! Bingo,” Victoria crowed, claiming preemptive victory. “Deflect all you want. It’s just sad is all. I hate seeing such a treasured classmate set herself up for heartbreak once Abstinence Abby finds out what you really are.”

Brooke wasn’t lying. She wasn’t gay – not that there was anything wrong with it – but she still could not account for the small pang of anxiety in her heart at Victoria’s words. Eager to squash it, she rounded on Victoria again, her thoughts darkening. She didn’t normally get aggressive – she didn’t fight back like this, at least – but this bitch had seriously been getting on her nerves lately. “Jealous or something?”

Victoria faked a gag. “Of not having you trailing after me with puppy dog eyes? Fat fucking chance.”

“Of the fact that Kate’s actually a good person. That she’s fun to be around. You know – nothing like you.”

The blonde’s face colored red with anger, and Brooke felt a flash of satisfaction that her return barb landed. If it reminded her at all of how she felt while putting down Max just days before, she certainly wasn’t going to introspect about it.

“That hypocritical, fake pious skank is going to show her true colors someday,” Victoria hissed. “Nobody is that fucking perfect. I’ll be there when you learn that – and I’ll be laughing.”

“Projection much?” Brooke prodded, baring her teeth a bit. “Did it occur to you that not everyone’s as fucking plastic as you are?”

They were standing closer now, and judging by the wild fury in Victoria’s eyes, Brooke was pretty sure she was a second or two from getting herself clawed to death. Then someone cleared their throat nearby, and a second after came Ms. Grant’s voice, elevated in frustration. “Are you ladies quite finished?”

They both took a step back from each other and swiveled their heads Ms. Grant’s way in unison, Brooke’s face abashed, Victoria’s one of pinched frustration. The science teacher had her hands on her hips and was looking between the two of them with a distinctly unimpressed air.

“I’d hope that one of my best pupils would have the good sense to hash out her differences in a quieter and more civil fashion?” she asked rhetorically, Brooke shrinking under her gimlet eye, especially after noticing how some passers-by were staring. Before Victoria could look smug, Ms. Grant turned to her. “And as for you, Ms. Chase, I’m almost certain you are supposed to be in my chem lab right now, not getting into disagreements in the hallway.”

“Sorry,” Brooke mumbled at the same time that Victoria, recovering a bit, chimed, “Sorry, ma’am.” Kiss-ass.

As Brooke watched Ms. Grant lead Victoria away by the shoulder, the blonde cast one last petulant glare over her shoulder. It was almost adorable how frustrated she looked, but Brooke knew better than to smile. She doubted that was the last she’d be hearing from Victoria. Not by a long shot.

The rest of the day was quiet by comparison. Brooke supposed she should have been grateful for as much. The notion of Victoria popping out to give her grief again was far from a fanciful one, though as the hours passed without further encounters with Vortex jerks, she had to acknowledge that the so-called Queen Bee of Blackwell wasn’t eager to do anything that could get her scolded by the staff again so soon.

Despite that small reassurance, Brooke hurried back to the dorms after classes, and was grateful for the occasion of her second-ever book club meeting. Kate’s room was the venue once again; other applicants had continued to prove elusive.

They were already most of the way through Always Coming Home, and had spent a few minutes at the start of the meeting discussing potential options for the next book on the docket. Kate still seemed a little low energy that day, but had perked up a little since the start of the club meeting at least. It was during a lull in the conversation that Brooke finally worked up the courage to ask what had been on her mind for the last day.

“By the way, uh… Is something wrong, Kate? You’ve seemed way out of it since yesterday.”

Kate blinked once and looked up at Brooke. Her eyes, so wide and expressive, often hinted openly at her inner thoughts. Brooke had found as much over the last couple of weeks; for all that Brooke sometimes had trouble maintaining eye contact for extended periods, Kate’s openness and gentleness seemed to make it easier for her.

Currently those eyes were betraying hesitation and worry. Kate was silent for a second, before bobbing her shoulders in a minuscule shrug and telling the truth. “Oh. It was just my mom… and my aunt. They were complaining about Blackwell again.”

“Huh. You didn’t mention your aunt before.”

“My Aunt May,” Kate offered with a small sigh. “She’s a… not very nice person.”

In Kate terms, that might as well have been a four-letter word. Brooke whistled quietly. Kate blushed in embarrassment and went on.

“She’s my dad’s younger sister, but she and my mom are like two peas in a pod. They dig their teeth into the same problems all the time, so – I’ve kind of been getting the complaints in stereo ever since I said I wanted to attend Blackwell.”

Brooke reflected that this wasn’t Kate’s first year at the school. How long had she been putting up with her mom and aunt browbeating her? “Still, I mean, they gave you a hard enough time yesterday to make you head back to Blackwell early…”

“You noticed that?” Kate asked, a bit timid as she plucked at the cuffs of her cardigan sleeves.

“Well, yeah, of course. And – ugh. I know you don’t really need to hear it from me, but you don’t deserve that.”

“They’re just looking out for me the only way they know how,” Kate disagreed, averting her eyes. “I’ll prove them wrong eventually. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, I just need to be patient with them.”

“They don’t treat your sisters like that, do they?”

Kate let out a sigh of relief – and didn’t that speak volumes by itself? “No, thank goodness. There’s a lot of pressure on me as the eldest daughter to be a good example. So I guess I sort of… shield them, in a way.”

Brooke squirmed in discomfort at the way Kate described the situation. She reached out and set her hand on the other girl’s arm. “You shouldn’t have to do all that…”

Kate sat and allowed the contact for a few moments, mind still far away, before gradually withdrawing her arm and offering Brooke yet another smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “... You don’t have to worry for my sake, Brooke. I’ll be fine.”

Brooke withdrew her own hand, suddenly self-conscious of herself in a way she hadn’t been since she met Kate. She doesn’t need a white knight, she mentally scolded herself, before nodding and returning her attention to her book. Brooke would just need to believe that Kate was right.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, October 1st 2013

For Brooke, Tuesday evenings were a very special time. Not for any special, real life reason that would take her out of her comfy cocoon, no. It was World of Warcraft’s weekly reset day!

With weekly quests and raids resetting, it was the ideal time to get together with her fellow players and experience Azeroth at its best (and most full of gold, rep, and marginal gear upgrades). Usually it also meant raid night, but her guild’s main tank was apparently dealing with some “IRL” stuff and couldn’t make it. So Brooke and her fellow raider, Warren, were turned loose to do with the evening whatever they wanted.

Not actually a part of their guild, but nevertheless apparently a fellow WoW player, Max was also due to join them tonight. Though Brooke had not been aware Max played, it seemed that she raided with Warren sometimes when the guild couldn’t, for whatever reason. To think they could have been bonding over ganking Alliance players for all these months instead of having that needless friction… It was enough to make her wince with regret. Well, maybe only a little bit.

As she contemplated just how this would all play out, Brooke finally got out of the loading screen. She sat up straight and uncrossed her arms, letting her hands settle on her mouse and keyboard as she found herself in the mist-shrouded land of Pandaria once again. Checking her friends list, she saw her comrades-to-be were not yet online, so she got a head start by checking her mailbox before hopping on a flight to her ultimate destination: the Timeless Isle.

Kravin, Undead Hunter (legally distinct, and so named for his hankering for the flesh of low-level Alliance players) winged his way through the skies for a few solitary minutes, before a system message finally lit up Brooke’s chat window, grabbing her attention.

[Killergrams] has come online.

There was the man of the hour. Brooke wasted no time in sending Warren an invite to her party. A second later, the portrait of his female Blood Elf Paladin popped into sight. Brooke had long since gotten over rolling her eyes at Warren’s choice of player avatar.

[Kravin]: hey girl wonder. you just about ready to rock this isle?
[Killergrams]: You know it. :)
[Kravin]: what about our trusty new sidekick?
[Killergrams]: I think she said she would be on as soon as her class was out? Hopefully she doesn’t get held up.

By the time the notification they were waiting for came, Brooke and Warren’s characters were already dance emoting at each other on the beach by the Isle’s Horde encampment.

[Noirangel] has come online.

Quite where Max got that name Brooke had no idea, but it was nevertheless very “her”. One invite later, a Goblin Rogue portrait added to the gallery on the left of her screen, the party was full.

[Noirangel]: Hey guys! ^_^
[Killergrams]: Hi Max.
[Kravin]: hey.
[Noirangel]: Sorry I was late. Mr. Jefferson kept me for a bit.
[Killergrams]: Oof, did Victoria get you in trouble again or something?
[Noirangel]: No, he wanted to talk to me about the Everyday Heroes photo contest. He was hinting that he’d really like for me to enter. I kind of wish he would ease off a bit to be honest…
[Kravin]: sounds like a no brainer to me. aren’t you his favorite student? you’re just missing out on bonus brownies by not submitting something.

Brooke knew little and less about Blackwell’s celebrity photography teacher – she had no classes with him herself – but even she knew that much.

[Noirangel]: Well I definitely wouldn’t say all that. -_-;;
[Noirangel]: Whatever though! I’m ready to make some yaks and yaungol regret ever being born.
[Noirangel]: Or coded?
[Kravin]: that’s the spirit.

Once Max landed on the Isle, Brooke led the group inland. The Timeless Isle was a curious place where time stood still. Unlike other parts of Azeroth, which had their own day and night cycle, the sun was frozen in the sky just above the Timeless Isle’s horizon, casting the zone in a perpetual golden hour. Truthfully, Brooke wasn’t all that interested in the lore of the place (WoW’s writing being a little lowbrow for her own evolved, high-concept fantasy tastes), but it certainly made for an intriguing locale when doing daily quests.

[Kravin]: can we check if huo is up?
[Killergrams]: Poor odds of getting the mount to drop even if he is.
[Kravin]: i want it. -_-
[Noirangel]: That’s fine.
[Killergrams]: As you wish fearless leader.

But though Brooke sorely wished to kill Huolon for such a chance, the group found the dragon sadly absent once they ascended the hills ringing the island. She resolved to check another time and the group instead turned their attention to killing the local fauna for coins and gear. While they set about the monotonous task, conversation inevitably drifted back toward more mundane subjects.

[Noirangel]: You haven’t had any more squirrel problems have you Brooke?
[Kravin]: not yet…
[Noirangel]: Okay cool. :D 
[Noirangel]: I talked to Samuel yesterday. He said they were being set off by "your" animal? You don’t have any pets right?
[Kravin]: uhhh no.

Brooke eyed the Hunter’s companion following Kravin along, a big eagle, and made a face.

[Noirangel]: Weird. Anyway, he said they wouldn’t bother you anymore.
[Kravin]: i’m just going to nod along here and hope that’s true.
[Killergrams]: LOL.
[Noirangel]: Any Victoria problems then?
[Kravin]: uh. why do you ask?

Max could be really nosy sometimes, Brooke thought, exasperated.

[Noirangel]: She was kind of talking mad shit about you in class today…
[Kravin]: oh goodie…
[Killergrams]: Wait really?? What about?
[Noirangel]: It’s nothing worth repeating honestly. Just obviously fake crap.
[Kravin]: i mean, i kind of want to know too.

A second later, a telltale jingle sounded through Brooke’s headphones as Max whispered to her in-game. What was the deal with the clandestine shit?

[Noirangel] whispers: Sorry I just don’t really want to say it in front of Warren in case it makes things awkward with you two. >_>
To [Noirangel]: uhhh…
To [Noirangel]: max?? kind of freaking me out here.
[Noirangel] whispers: Sorry sorry!!
[Noirangel] whispers: Look like I said it’s obviously fake BS but I guess you should still know that Victoria’s apparently spreading rumors about you.
[Noirangel] whispers: Something about you being a lesbian and creeping on other girls at the school.
[Noirangel] whispers: Not that there’s something wrong with being gay obviously! And no duh you and me both know THAT isn’t true, considering what we’ve talked about.
To [Noirangel]: uh.
[Noirangel]: But I especially know you’re not the type of person to creep on anybody so of course I don’t believe it!
To [Noirangel]: max.
To [Noirangel]: chill.
[Noirangel]: Sorry.
To [Noirangel]: thanks for letting me know? i’m really not worried about whatever lies victoria makes up about me.
To [Noirangel]: forget about it.
[Noirangel]: Okay. You’re welcome.

Warren hadn’t been silent while the two conspicuously stopped typing in the party chat.

[Killergrams]: You’re way too cool to have to put up with that Brooke.
[Killergrams]: Guys?
[Killergrams]: ?
[Kravin]: sorry. max filled me in and she’s right. it isn’t important.
[Kravin]: let’s just keep going?
[Noirangel]: Mhm.
[Killergrams]: Okay sure.

While the trio’s characters grappled with toxic toads, Brooke continued to quietly fume over her own toxic enemies. Sure, Victoria was plenty toxic on her own, but it was really doubt, that corrosive acid eating away at Brooke’s confidence, that was slowly trickling in.

People did listen when Victoria spoke. She was the Queen Bee, the enemy of the Free Peoples of Blackwell Academy. Brooke’s calm assertion that she had nothing to worry about was not the certainty she’d wanted it to be. What if people started to believe it for real?

God, what if Kate did? She didn’t strike Brooke as a bigot – at the very least, she never seemed to think twice about Brooke not being white – but Brooke knew how weird conservative Christians could be about gender and sexuality. Would she hear the rumors, believe them, and decide it wasn’t worth the risk to continue being around her? Could Brooke lose her friend just because of some idiotic gossip?

She’d never been quite so afraid of losing a friend before. An icy hand seemed to be tightening its grip around her heart. Why did she feel this way?

Was this why she first promised herself to focus on school instead of friendships?

Brooke swallowed the small lump in her throat when she saw Noirangel tagging an albatross out of the air. What was Max up to?

[Kravin]: wait, where are you off to?
[Noirangel]: I wanted to go get that blue moth, it’s only up in the higher inaccessible areas.

Brooke watched as the albatross scooped Noirangel up in its talons (did seabirds have those?) and carried the goblin off into the sky.

[Kravin]: dude, battle pets are sooo lame.
[Noirangel]: Jealous because I'm going to Ash Catch ‘Em All and fill out those achievements before you do? ^_~
[Kravin]: as if i care about pet collecting achievos. rofl.
[Killergrams]: Good luck Max!

As Noirangel disappeared somewhere over the treetops along with the bird, Brooke laughed under her breath, the reason for her anxiety temporarily forgotten. She and Warren kept at their tasks, while Max eventually reported her successful acquisition of one blue moth before gliding her way down to meet them again. When all was said and done, they spent upwards of five hours on their various quests, tasks, and elite mob encounters before the first of them finally tapped out.

[Noirangel]: Okay, I need to go before I nod off and accidentally headbutt my laptop. I still have homework to do even… Yuck.
[Killergrams]: It was double plus cool playing with you, Mad Max.
[Kravin]: geek.
[Kravin]: bye max.

Noirangel has gone offline.

[Kravin]: you heading off too?
[Killergrams]: I’d probably better. It is kind of late. Let’s try and get into an actual raid over the weekend?
[Kravin]: hell yes. catch you later.

Killergrams has gone offline.

With Max and Warren both offline, Brooke stood alone in the twilit forest – in the game, at least. Her real body leaned back in her chair, left with nothing but her thoughts for company. She found she didn’t much like what they had to say tonight.

Swallowing again, she stood up, shaking her head. That was enough of Azeroth for now. She had to return to the real world. And something told her she was going to be getting a rather big dose of it tomorrow.

Your group has been disbanded.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, October 2nd 2013

By all means, it should have been another ordinary day at Blackwell. The usual autumn cloud cover was in evidence outside, promising a spot of rain later. No projects or assignments were due on Brooke’s part, and there had been nothing the day before to forecast any academic issues for her.

And yet she could not help a creeping feeling of disquiet running down her spine as she walked down the hallway, and more than once she caught eyes turning her way with pensiveness and… suspicion.

Brooke hugged her textbooks a little closer to her chest, trying to take reassurance from Kate’s presence nearby. Brooke had offered to walk her friend to class, expecting that Victoria or one of her cronies might follow up on Monday’s confrontation by going after Kate next. 

“You really don’t have to, Brooke,” Kate had said earlier that morning, sounding a little put-upon. “I promise I can look after myself.”

It was a good thing Kate had relented, Brooke thought now; she hadn’t expected to need the extra protection for herself.

Someone walked by – one of the boys on the football team, she could never tell them all apart – and a shoulder bumped Brooke’s roughly, before a gruff voice brushed harshly past her ears, freezing her blood.

“Dyke.”

Faltering mid-step, Brooke stopped entirely, her eyes wide and her pulse thudding in her head. A girl tittered nearby, but she didn’t dare to look.

Yes, it seemed that Victoria’s vicious lies carried currency with the student body after all. Brooke could feel what little social life she had withering on the vine and dying already.

Fearing what she might find, what expression of alarm and disgust she might see on Kate’s face, Brooke peeked sidelong at her friend. Kate wasn’t doing that – perhaps Brooke should have known better – but rather was directing a rather fierce frown of disapproval at the football player’s retreating back. Her expression softened when she turned to Brooke again. “Let’s just keep going.”

“Y… yeah,” Brooke mumbled in response, and willed her feet to continue shuffling along.

A few seconds passed in silence between them as they walked, before Kate spoke again, her voice gentle. “People turn on each other so fast here. It’s… a bit disheartening.”

“That’s teenagers for you,” Brooke remarked, trying to get a bit of dry humor back into her voice, but still sounding a bit shaky.

“It’s still not right. And… I’m sure you don’t need to hear it from me, but you don’t deserve that.” There was a hint of humor in Kate’s own expression as she tossed back Brooke’s words from the other day. Brooke’s heart did a strange little flip (relief – she would tell herself it was relief) and she smiled tenuously back.

There was not much time for the conversation to evolve any further than that, as the pair came up to the art room where Kate’s photography class was hosted. It seemed that they picked an interesting moment to arrive, because their paths crossed with the photography teacher, who was just coming down the hall from the other direction.

A man approaching middle age, his dark hair and goatee were both neatly trimmed, his glasses thick-rimmed like Brooke’s own. She thought he wore his more stylishly, though. He was handsome. Brooke could definitely understand why so many of the art students crushed on this guy, though she didn’t feel much of anything herself as she looked at him.

When Mr. Jefferson spotted the two by the classroom door, he smiled and approached. “Good morning, Kate. And Miss…?”

“Scott. Brooke.” She lifted her chin a little to try and make eye contact, though she still held her books protectively, as if they’d shield her from disapproval. “I’m one of the science students. That’s probably why you haven’t run into me yet.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Brooke,” he replied affably. “There is still time, you know? Perhaps you could enroll in the photography course next year.”

She let out a small, awkward breath of laughter in response. “Sorry, I really don’t have an artistic bone in my body.”

Mr. Jefferson stroked his goatee as he pontificated. “You know, Albert Einstein once said, ‘The greatest scientists are always artists as well.’ He understood that those two frameworks are not really so different, once you break them down to the smallest level. It’s all about… attention to detail.”

Brooke wasn’t altogether sure that Einstein actually said that, but Mr. Jefferson did seem to have a talent for making it sound convincing. He was erudite, well-spoken, and friendly.

There was also nothing behind his eyes. No spark of warmth in his brown irises. He left her feeling like she was under a scalpel as he watched her.

Brooke glanced off to the side, trying not to seem weird. She was on-edge and paranoid after being stared at all day, she told herself. She was probably just imagining it. Whatever “it” was.

Kate saved the day. “I’ll try to have my submission for the Everyday Heroes contest by Monday, Mr. Jefferson. I think I have a great idea for it.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that, Kate. You can tell me more after class, the bell is about to ring…”

Kate offered Brooke a shy wave, one which she returned, as the bell indeed rang a second or two after. She disappeared into the classroom with Jefferson then, and Brooke stepped away, trying to calm her mind.

But I can’t be calm, she thought as she surveyed the hallway for trouble before going to speed walk to her next class. She had a target on her back now, after all.

Brooke’s classes went by uneventfully, but walking through the hallways in between periods did anything but. Although there were no more overt confrontations, Brooke was left jumpy and on-edge the whole way, followed by stares and laughter. At least classes had finally ended, and she was free to escape the judging eyes of her peers.

With the final bell still ringing behind her, Brooke strode down the steps from the school in order to clear the oncoming crowd of students. Her sneakers splashed in minute puddles of rainwater which had collected over the course of the afternoon, a few flecks of mist collecting on her glasses. The rain had cleared, and while clouds still hung overhead, it seemed like things wouldn’t be getting any wetter. As Brooke made her way down the slowly drying sidewalk, she fished her cell phone out of her pocket and checked her notifications.

A few seconds later, she decided that it was best to just ignore Facebook for the time being. She didn’t exactly camp out her socials most of the time, but did prefer to be able to see what was going on at the school. There were only a couple of snide remarks on her wall from the various attack dogs stirred up by Victoria, but that was still enough to encourage Brooke to turn off notifications for the app, take a shaky breath, and get further from the school.

Eventually, she found a spot that was to her liking in the shadow of a big tree near the parking lot, mostly dry under its canopy. Resting her back against its trunk, she stuffed her hands in the pocket of her hoodie and just breathed in the damp Oregon air. The pavement of the road and lot bounded the grass in like the bars of a cage, with Brooke on the inside, stuck in here with all these assholes whispering about her behind her back. Things had seemed different since she opened herself up to Kate and the others. Better. But Brooke was still just as trapped here as she was the day she met Kate, wasn’t she?

If only she had wings. Those imaginary bars couldn’t keep her contained then.

“Yo, space cadet. Did you lose something up there?”

Brooke turned her eyes away from the leaves overhead and toward the parking lot. She found that wreck of a pickup truck again, with the blue-haired girl – Kari? – leaning out the driver side door, one leg on the pavement and her arms rested casually on the metal frame of the door. She looked amused.

“Hey,” Brooke answered weakly. “No, I was just contemplating where everything went wrong in my life. Nothing big.”

“Sweet, that’s one of my favorite hobbies,” the blue-haired girl said blithely as she shut the car door and sauntered on over. “School got you down, huh? Good thing I dropped out.”

“You got expelled,” Brooke corrected, her tone flat.

“Whatever.” The blue-haired girl turned to put her back to the tree as well, sliding down to sit with her arms crossed behind her head. “So what fresh bullshit is unfolding at Blackhell now?”

Brooke wasn’t really sure how this turned into a hang-out situation, but she guessed she couldn’t complain, even if this chick was still basically a stranger to her. She slowly sat down too and let out an annoyed puff of breath as she thought about all of it. “I’ll withhold the details, it’s stupid anyway. Long story short, Victoria Chase is out to make my life a living hell.”

“She does that,” ‘Kari’ said with a snort, and Brooke wondered what sort of history she and Victoria actually had.

“Basically she spread rumors around and is trying to get the rest of the student body to do her dirty work in heckling me into an early grave,” Brooke clarified, morose. Her chin came to rest in her hands.

“What did you do to piss her off that bad?”

“I might have called her a fake, plastic bitch,” she answered innocently, “and accused her of being jealous of Kate Marsh being more likeable than her.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” the blue-haired girl pronounced proudly, reaching over to lightly cuff Brooke, who rocked listlessly with the tap. “That was ballsy of you. You had to know she’d get back at you, right?”

“I guess I just wasn’t prepared for how well it would… you know… work?”

“Don’t let that plastic bitch get in your head, dude,” the girl insisted, shaking her head, expression more serious. “She wants you off your game so you’ll be vulnerable. Just keep your head up, alright?”

“I’ll try,” Brooke sighed. “Do you have a specific beef with Chase or is it just, like, hating how she is in general? Because I’d totally get that…”

The girl waved her hand in the negative. “There’s a lot to it, trust me. Aside from making fun of my family for being poor, and calling me a dyke…”

Brooke started a bit, hearing the word for the second time in one day, and blinked at the blue-haired girl in surprise. The ease and fondness behind the word, this time, was much different.

The girl spread her hands out expressively. “Which, you know, good call I guess? As I found out later, but fuck her homophobic ass anyway… Though she is a total closet case, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Uh,” Brooke mumbled, a bit overwhelmed, but the girl just went on, heedless.

“She also feuded with Rachel a lot. Rachel wanted– wants to be an actress, and Victoria could not handle anyone else being in the spotlight.”

“That follows,” Brooke said, then gratefully seized onto the possible change of topic. “Um. I put up those posters you dumped on me.”

The blue-haired girl perked up. “Really?” She seemed earnestly surprised. “Well… thanks. Sorry. I know I didn’t exactly ask properly, but I’m glad you did that.”

Most of them had been torn down already – Brooke suspected Victoria, but then, she would – but she decided not to make her possible new friend aware of this fact. “It’s fine. It seemed like the nice thing to do.” Then, after a moment’s pause, “She must have really been something special.”

Her companion’s expression softened more, her eyes distant. “She is. Rachel has a way of ensnaring people.” Interrupted by a small, fond laugh. “She sure ensnared me.” But seemingly eager for a topic change of her own, the blue-haired girl glanced Brooke’s way again. “So, little Katie Marsh is still going to Blackwell? She and her dad used to come around to bring us food drive stuff, way back when. Me and her never really hung out, but she’s nice. Are you friends?”

“Yeah. As of recently anyway. I never knew she was into a lot of the same nerdy stuff I am. Uh, I’m a huge geek, by the way. I don’t know if you could tell.”

“I didn’t want to assume,” the blue-haired girl remarked wryly.

“We flock together, I guess. A lot of the time it’s me, her, and our mutual friends Warren and Max in a group.” Brooke spent a second debating whether she and Max were at the ‘friend’ level yet, and didn’t notice the other girl tensing up beside her. “Games and TV shows and what not.” Glancing over, Brooke noticed the pensive look on the blue-haired girl’s face. “Sorry, I know nerdy stuff like that probably isn’t your scene.”

“Hey, I can game with the best of them,” the girl protested, rallying a bit.

Brooke laughed. “Well, I’d test that theory, but I’m not convinced we could smuggle you onto campus without that paranoid creep with the mustache finding out.”

The blue-haired girl pulled a ‘yuck’ sort of face at that. No love lost there, clearly. “Ugh. Though, speaking of, I should probably get running before he spots me again.” She stood, dusting her ripped jeans and shooting Brooke another smile. “Don’t sweat about the haters too much, Brooke. They’ll lose interest sooner or later, and you’ll come out on top. You can trust me on that because,” she winked playfully, “the Price is always right.”

Brooke stared blankly for a second before that registered. Oh. Price was her last name, wasn’t it? She felt a little embarrassed that the other girl clearly knew her name when Brooke had forgotten hers, but played it off with a small nod. “See you.”

Only after the blue-haired girl got in her truck and drove off did it occur to Brooke that she never asked what she was doing on campus that day. She wondered if Kate was right about her being trouble… before sighing softly and standing up again. Honestly, Brooke could really use words of encouragement right now. Even if they did come from delinquents.

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 3rd 2013

Thursday was not good, but it was, at least, not worse. With Kari’s words still ringing in her head, Brooke did her very best to keep her chin level, her back straight, her heart unwounded. Random students still sneered and muttered, but she was relieved that her floormates, the ones she really cared about anyway, still didn’t treat her any differently.

All, it seemed, save one. Kate had been watching Brooke with worried eyes all day, and it was beginning to make her very nervous. She got the distinct impression that Kate wanted to say something to her – something that she wouldn’t like – but hadn’t yet gotten the chance since there was nowhere private in the school to do so. A suspicion which only seemed to be confirmed when Kate asked shyly, after the last bell, if they could take a walk around the football field.

At least it was a nice day for a walk. Yesterday’s clouds were not in evidence, and while a gentle breeze offered a little autumn chill, it otherwise wasn’t too cold out. Brooke still kept her hands safely tucked away in her pockets – she didn’t really know what to do with them, anyway – while Kate rubbed her arms through her cardigan sweater.

Once they entered Blackwell Field, Brooke had herself a good look around. She was not a football fan, to put it mildly, so she didn’t make it out here all that often. The unfamiliar stadium certainly made for a strange backdrop to this conversation. The towering bleachers were painted in red and silver livery, and a large banner declaring “Bigfoots Stomp!” hung heavily beneath the scoreboard. The size of the field made its emptiness all the more eerie. Brooke could easily imagine a crowd of invisible onlookers watching her and Kate expectantly from the bleachers like jurors in the box.

Brooke expectantly watched Kate too, who seemed to still be collecting her thoughts. When she noticed Brooke staring, Kate met her gaze, her cheeks dusting with a rosy blush. “Oh. Sorry, Brooke. I’m a little absentminded today.”

“I noticed,” Brooke said, trying to sound good-natured. “I kind of figured you wanted to talk about something important when you dragged me out here. Take your time.”

The two of them continued to walk along, tracing the perimeter of the field by the bleachers. Kate wore a threadbare smile, her light, careful steps gently unsettling the grass as she went. “... I appreciate that. And I know the last few days have been trying for you. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“You’re the least scary person I know, Kate,” Brooke said, running her fingertips along the corrugated metal of the boundary wall of the field as it passed them by. Some little, treacherous part of herself protested that it was untrue. Once Abstinence Abby finds out what you REALLY are, Victoria’s voice rang in her head once again.

It didn’t matter that Brooke wasn’t anything. Lies had a life all their own, as she’d discovered lately. She took her eyes off of the wall, and instead they caught on the cross necklace hanging from Kate’s pale neck as it glinted in the sun

Brooke clenched her fist where it rested in her pocket. It was never Kate that Brooke was afraid of. It was the fear of losing this thing they had. This fragile friendship. Fragile, she suspected, because of that cross.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” said Kate, unaware of Brooke’s turmoil, her voice quiet. Despite the vastness of the field, and the lack of ears around to hear it, Brooke still worried that it might carry if Kate spoke just a little louder. “And I hope you know that you can trust me. You can tell me anything.”

Brooke felt suddenly lost at sea, mentally performing calculus to make sense of what Kate was saying to her. She had been preparing herself for anger and disapproval, not… whatever this was. “Uh-huh…?”

The previously pensive expression worn by Kate morphed into a tentative smile. “I don’t want to pry, if you’re not comfortable sharing. But really I just wanted to reassure you–... Um. That is to say, I don’t care if you’re gay.”

There was the distinct sound of a record scratch in Brooke’s head. “What.”

Kate tapped her fingers together, eyes flitting away. “... That might have come out wrong. I mean, it’s not like I believe the rumors. I don’t listen to that kind of stuff. Ever. But if you were gay, I know I should make it clear it wouldn’t bother me. And even if you’re not, you might still be worried about what I’m thinking. Like, there could be some sort of irrational fear on your part– n–... not to say that you’re irrational, or anything!”

Kate was rambling now. Brooke dragged her hand down her face and let out a shaky sigh. “Oh my God. Kate.”

The girl stopped short, blinking twice at Brooke.

Brooke drew in a more steadying breath, then clasped her hands together for emphasis, giving them a little wag in time with each syllable. “I’m not gay.”

“Oh,” mumbled Kate. “Well, that makes sense, I know you’re interested in Warren. The possibility occurred to me that– well, it doesn’t matter. I guess I just really didn’t want to leave it unsaid. That I wasn’t going to… you know… stop being your friend.”

There was a faint unwinding, a loosening of tension in Brooke’s chest. Sure, Kate had come at it from a completely incorrect angle, but at least she’d said what Brooke needed to hear. “Right. I have to say, I’m surprised by how chill you are with all this, but it’s good to know.”

Kate winced a little. “Is it really that surprising…?”

Brooke lifted a cautioning hand, hasty to avoid upsetting her. “No! I mean, you’re a great person, I didn’t think otherwise. But, you know, your religion…”

“We aren’t a hivemind, Brooke,” Kate shot back, stern. “I believe in showing love and understanding to everybody; it’s not my place to decide what is and isn’t a sin. But you thought…” She stopped for a shaky breath. “I’m used to others here assuming the worst of me. Maybe it was dumb of me, but– I thought you were different.”

“I’d never assume the worst of you,” Brooke protested, a lump in her throat. “I just…”

“You just don’t want to have to deal with any of that fundie crap,” Kate finished for her. There was something in her voice that Brooke had never heard before. It was… scorn. Kate had turned away from her and walked onward a few steps, rubbing her elbows through her sleeves and leaving a poleaxed Brooke behind before she ultimately stopped.

And Brooke just stood there, still reeling from her own careless words from back at the start of the school year being thrown back in her face. I had no idea that stuck with her like that, she thought, hands hanging numb by her sides.

Kate turned, expression melting back toward calm and thoughtful again, though this time with a regretful twinge as she met Brooke’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I… shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You’ve experienced too much cruelty this week as it is. I shouldn’t air out my… issues, too.”

Brooke took a deep breath to steady herself, then said, “Nothing I didn’t earn,” sweeping her hand back through her bangs with an exasperated sigh. “I still regret ever saying that. I respect you – you know I do. I just… don’t understand much about your religion. Or your background. We haven’t exactly talked about it, because, well…”

“Because it might go like this,” Kate concluded, her head hanging, hands dropping from her elbows to fold tightly at her waist.

“I guess,” Brooke agreed, her voice slow and ginger. “We’re friends. Good friends. You and me are just…”

“Different,” Kate stated, finishing Brooke’s sentence once again when Brooke left it hanging. And she was right enough in her choice.

Too different? That seemed to be the question hanging over the two girls as they stood and stared at each other in the middle of the football field, a long silence prevailing. For all that it was only ten feet between them, it might as well have been the whole hundred yards. That question followed them all the way back to the dorms once they left, nothing more to be said.

As soon as Brooke parted ways with Kate for the day, she turned back around to the school. Although classes were out, the library was always open for a couple of hours longer, and it was usually almost empty. It seemed like a pretty good bet that she could find some time and space to think about things there without having to worry about further social encounters, especially after that decidedly awkward conversation with Kate.

And, well, she did actually have a paper due for her composition course the next week. It was dangerously close to getting into ‘crunch’ territory with how poorly Brooke had been keeping up with her homework over the last few days. Best to just get it over with.

Upon walking in, Brooke was greeted with the smell of old paper and dust. Blackwell’s library was an old one, and badly in need of a refresh if Brooke’s unqualified estimation was right. Tired wooden bookshelves and even more tired tables suggested that the last refinishing was in the 80s, if even that late. You would think that a fairly wealthy private school could do better.

It was also, mercifully, very quiet. Brooke heard the sound of someone sniffing further in – probably dealing with a cold – but not much else aside from the low hum of the air conditioning. This would do. She walked through the aisles, scanning the spines as she went searching for the subject she needed.

As she emerged into the open space in the center of the library, Brooke got a clear view of the tables there and froze. There was a boy with light brown hair dressed in a red varsity jacket, bent over in his chair. Every few seconds, he sniffled – the sound she heard when she came in. It was Nathan Prescott, and he was staring hard at a textbook and paper, though seemingly looking right through them.

There are just certain people in the world that you know are trouble as soon as you lay eyes on them, even if you’ve never talked to them. Brooke had exactly that sense about Prescott, and for her part was glad their paths had never crossed. She hoped that would stay the case. Trying not to make any sudden moves, she turned slowly toward the nearest shelves and pretended to browse, all while inching her way toward the exit.

It was not meant to be.

“Hey,” came Nathan’s voice, gruff but cracking a little. Brooke peeked at him and found Nathan skewering her with a cold-eyed stare. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand – his nose looked a bit red, was he actually sick? – and cracked a mirthless grin. “Brooke Scott! That’s your name, isn’t it?”

She hesitated for a half-second, some idiotic fancy suggesting that she could just pretend not to hear it. Sense prevailed. “... Yeah. That’s me.”

“Creeping around like a little mouse,” he observed, sounding amused. “You scared of something?”

Yes. “No.”

He rose slowly from his chair, looking a little unsteady. His posture was loose, casual, but there was still something predatory in his stride, and in his leering stare, as he walked over to Brooke. She backed up a step, bumping into the shelf in the process as he towered over her.

“Well, shit! If that’s true, then you’re braver than I thought. That or you’re secretly shitting your pants and just lying about it.” With the fluorescent overhead lights behind him, his face was shadowed as he stared at her. And he wasn’t wrong; something in that expression was freaking her the hell out.

“As if I’m going to let it get to me,” Brooke blustered, a bit shaky. “Victoria can lie about me all she wants, it doesn’t–”

That was the wrong thing to say, as it turned out. Nathan’s hand rose, and Brooke flinched. It slammed into some books on the shelf right beside her head, pushing them through until they fell out the other side, hitting the floor with a series of thuds.

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice dropping, “talk about Vic.”

Brooke tried her best to keep her face more of a defiant glare than a mask of panic. She suspected she was losing that particular battle.

“As if a little creep like you even deserves to breathe the same air as someone like her,” Nathan gritted out, labored. “She put you in your place. We’re all gonna make sure you stay there.”

Rallying a bit, Brooke stuck up her chin to look him in the eye and scowled. “The only creep I see here is you.” Then she shouldered him to get away from the shelf, and was frankly a bit surprised when he just let it happen.

“That Jesus freak friend of yours, too,” he called after her as she retreated. “Real soon.”

Brooke stiffened momentarily mid-stride, but wasted no more time before she escaped. Her paper remained undone, her nerves worse than ever. She should have known that nowhere was safe from these people.

Chapter Text

Friday, October 4th 2013

That night, Brooke dreamed of lashing winds and pouring rain. Drenched to the bone, limbs weak, she trudged through a muddy landscape which could have been anywhere and everywhere. She was cold, and lost, but despite herself she just couldn’t stop walking.

In the distance, she saw a figure she wouldn’t miss anywhere – Kate, her sleeping mind recognized in a rush – standing under the gray sky with her head hanging. Brooke called, but she did not answer.

As she tried to move toward Kate, a crowd of people with vaguely familiar faces began to walk the opposite way, washing over her like a tide. And no matter how Brooke pushed and shoved and struggled her way through it, Kate never got any closer.

When Brooke woke up, part of her felt like she was still there, her feet pushing into the mud, freezing herself just to try to close that distance. She stared up at her ceiling for about fifteen minutes before she finally rose, groaning unhappily.

Everything must have really been getting to her lately, if she was even having dreams about it. Brooke didn’t have many dreams, or very vivid ones, as a rule. That might have been a consequence of her sketchy sleep schedule – too many late night gaming sessions – or her brain might have just been wired that way. She didn’t really know. Whatever the case, this one stuck with her well into the morning hours, only fading slowly as the day progressed.

Her class schedule wasn’t too heavy on Fridays. She spent her composition class making up for the work she didn’t get to do on her paper the night before, then successfully made it through chemistry without blowing anything up. Once out of class for the day, she had a singular obligation: to appease Max’s tireless determination to make her watch Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within.

“It’s a modern sci-fi movie, but with the storytelling of the Final Fantasy games,” Max pitched as Brooke popped the burned disc into her DVD player. “Plus, the voice cast is stacked. You’re totally going to like it.”

Brooke did not, in fact, like it. An hour and forty-five minutes later, she leaned back in her chair and blew her breath through her teeth. “I feel like my soul just got snatched.”

Max tutted. “Come on. You didn’t at least like the music score?”

“The score was just about the only tolerable part of it.”

“But the CG is impressive, right?”

“Impressive for 2001, but it has not aged well. And the voice acting was so wooden that Prescott Senior could set up an illegal logging camp in the recording booths.”

“Ouch,” said Max, leaning back where she sat in Brooke’s office chair. “Did you at least have fun?”

Brooke cracked a grin as she looked up at her, sitting, for her own part, on a cushion she’d dropped on the floor. “Of course I did, you dork. Didn’t you hear me laughing the whole time?”

Max grinned back. “That’s not usually a good sign, you know. But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Brooke had the sense that making her friends watch this movie was just sort of a ritual Max undertook. She guessed she should be touched. In repayment for that, she’d give Max no more shit over it. Brooke stretched her arms over her head and sighed. “In the interest of fairness though, I’m picking next time.”

“Warren did just lend me a flash drive full of movies. We’ve got options.”

“Nerd Jesus to the rescue,” Brooke joked, pulling her knees up. After a moment, she looked tentatively at Max. “Speaking of… uh. Have you talked to him yet?”

Max blinked once, then gave an apologetic shrug. “... No. Have you?”

Brooke shrank on herself a bit. “Remember how I said we’re more similar than I’d like to admit?”

The corners of Max’s mouth twitched in an awkward almost-smile. “It seems like you might have been right about that. Sorry for dragging my feet. I just kind of keep hoping he’ll take my hints, but…”

“Me too,” Brooke added. “But I’m starting to think it’s not going to work. I don’t know how a boy that smart can be that dense.”

“That’s just a boy thing, I hear,” said Max.

“I think it’s more just a Warren thing,” Brooke countered dryly, then stared down at her knees where she fidgeted with her sleeve between two fingertips. “I’ll do it next week. Promise.”

Max absorbed that for a second, then changed the subject. “Hey… Leaving that aside, how are you holding up right now? I’ve heard way too many people talking crazy about you this week…”

Brooke winced, but tried to mask her expression before she looked Max’s way, shrugging. “I’m fine. It’s not like I care about any of those people.”

Max looked doubtful, but dropped it. “... I mean, on the plus side, some people have been talking back and speaking up for you.”

That was news to Brooke, who raised her eyebrows at Max. “What? Like who?”

“Alyssa definitely isn’t shy about speaking her mind. I heard her call Zach Riggins a troglodyte at lunch when he was talking about the rumors. And obviously Warren doesn’t let anybody talk about you like that around him. Then there’s… me.”

This surprised Brooke even more. She cracked a tiny, disbelieving smile. “Shy wallflower Max Caulfield, talking back to bullies?”

Max blushed slightly. “Well, I have trouble with that part, but I have at least been erasing crap off of your slate.”

“I wondered why I hadn’t seen anything. You’re like a damned ninja, Caulfield. You didn’t have to, but… that’s cool of you. Thanks.”

They shared another smile for a moment, before Max rose from Brooke’s chair, carefully pushing it back to the desk. “Speaking of Alyssa, I promised I’d help her practice for some poetry jam thing, so I should get going. Thanks for hanging out, Brooke.”

“Not a problem,” Brooke bade her farewell, standing up and putting her cushion back where it belonged as Max exited.

As the door drifted closed, Brooke heard a curiously large number of voices in the hallway and hummed in confusion. She went to poke her head out, finding a steady stream of girls heading out of the dorm, all dressed to party. Victoria and her two chief minions were laughing about something as they made their way out with arms linked. Brooke pulled a face, and was about ready to duck back into her room to hide away for the night, when she noticed Kate’s door ajar, voices inside.

Brooke slipped out to go investigate, pushing Kate’s door open a little further. Directly to her left, in front of the mirror on the wall, she found Dana helping Kate with makeup. As a matter of course, they noticed her straight away. And Brooke certainly noticed them back, since they were both dressed to the nines. Dana looked gorgeous, as usual, somehow contained in a little red dress, but Brooke only had eyes for Kate, whose modest pink dress somehow managed to not look like Sunday morning attire, but a very pretty outfit for (as Brooke was just realizing) a very pretty girl.

“Hi Brooke,” Kate greeted with a shy smile.

“Hey,” Dana agreed, while looking at Brooke with an odd twinkle in her eye. When Brooke met it with a questioning stare, Dana just grinned affably. Despite that they never hung out, Dana was pretty easy-going for someone so popular. She was one of Kate’s few close friends, at least, so Brooke had to assume she wasn’t too bad.

“Um. Hi. You look great.” Then she corrected herself as she rubbed the back of her neck. “You both do. What’s the occasion?”

“What else?” Dana answered. “We’re going to the party tonight. The Vortex Club is throwing a rager.”

While Brooke’s spine shivered in foreboding, Kate innocently picked up from where Dana left off. “I know it’s not my usual thing, but I really wanted to say I tried it at least once, you know? Even though…”

“Your mom’s not gonna find out, Kate. Cross my heart.” Dana did the motion, smiling fondly at the shorter girl.

“The Vortex party?” Brooke managed, as if just catching up.

“Yeah?” Dana set her hand at her slightly cocked hip, blinking at Brooke. “It’s not like anyone else throws parties around here. Well, not fun ones anyway. Not if you want a decent DJ, a good venue…”

Brooke turned her head toward Kate, eyes wide, the conversation in the library from yesterday ringing like a warning bell in her head, so loud it was almost deafening. “Kate. I really don’t think you should go to that party.”

Now both Dana and Kate were looking at her askance, alike in their surprise and confusion. “Brooke?” Kate questioned. “What are you talking about?”

“L-look. I think Nathan Prescott is going to try something. He wants to ‘put you in your place’. It really freaked me out….”

“Prescott?” Dana asked, expression uneven as she warred between concern and disregard. “As unstable as he is, he’s also such a little bitch. I’m more than capable of smacking him away from Katie with a broom if I have to. Besides, those Vortex douches aren’t so hard to avoid in the crowd if you want to.”

“You know, you’re a Vortex… member yourself, Dana,” Kate murmured, amused. She looked reassured by that, but Brooke was anything but.

“This isn’t just some ordinary old Vortex drama. He was talking crazy yesterday. I think he’s dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt, Kate.”

Kate frowned as she fussed with her dress, wringing her fingers together against the fabric. “Brooke, I understand why you’d be concerned, but you heard Dana. We’ll be fine together. And… you don’t have to protect me all the time, okay? I appreciate your friendship, but you have to trust me to look after myself sometimes…”

The accusations that had been thrown at Brooke over the past several days passed through her mind again. White knight. Momma hawk. Kate was right, she realized with regret, but couldn’t she see that this time was different?

“I know that, Kate, and I’m sorry, but this still feels like a bad idea. You’re basically throwing yourself into the lion’s den. You’ve never been to a party like this before, Prescott and Chase are going to eat you alive.”

“You sound like my mother,” Kate sighed, her brow furrowing in obvious frustration. Brooke flinched a little, knowing what a burn that was, coming from Kate. “Do you really have that little faith in me? I’m an adult, Brooke, and I can look after myself!”

Though Brooke didn’t see it, Dana nervously backed up a step, eyes widening as the two girls began to air out some things which had clearly been bottled up for a while.

“Of course that’s not it,” sputtered Brooke, taken aback. “Can you take this seriously? The guy is unhinged. You have no idea what you’re walking into.”

“It’s a school party, Brooke. I know what to expect. There’s going to be a crowd of people, nothing crazy can happen. Stop being so paranoid!”

“God, you can be so stubborn sometimes! You’re not even listening to me. I just want–”

“You just want me to stay in my room and keep out of trouble like a good Christian girl,” Kate shot back, her hands clenched in small fists, trembling. Brooke had seen her face red with embarrassment before, but never red like this. She must have pushed a button she didn’t even know Kate had; the girl was pissed. “Well, too bad, Brooke! This is my one shot to be a normal high school girl. The first year of the rest of my life. I know the risks, but I trust Dana. I trust myself. And I’m not going to let you ruin this for me!”

To just be a normal girl and not let those opportunities pass her by… At any other moment, Brooke would understand the feeling all too well. But as she reached the very end of her rope, she found herself fresh out of understanding, and just threw her hands up in mock surrender instead. “Fine! Consider this me giving up then! Have loads of fun, but don’t come crying to me when you get a bucket of pig’s blood dumped on your head for your trouble!”

Kate didn’t answer, just sniffing and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Still, there was steel in her back and power behind her steps as she walked out of the room and into the hallway, leaving the other two girls behind.

Dana looked more than a little awkward, but crossed her heart again when she looked at the slightly winded Brooke in front of her. “I will keep an eye on her. Promise.” Then she left, too, hurrying to catch up to Kate.

Brooke was left alone in Kate’s room for a moment, the harsh, prickling buzz of righteous anger still cast over her. Bit by bit, flashes of astonishment and shame began to peek through the cracks. Did I seriously just say all that? she thought incredulously. Did KATE just say all that?

Bone-deep misery took over eventually, and she slunk out of the room, closing Kate’s door behind her before making her way back to her own. Once there, she threw herself face-first into the bed and buried her face in her pillow. Though she stubbornly willed her face to obey, a few treacherous tears still soaked into the fabric anyway.

She did not leave her room again that night.

Chapter Text

Saturday, October 5th 2013

Why did Brooke do that? Why did she always fly off the handle? She wanted to fucking scream at herself, to demand an answer for why she had to be such a raging bitch and drive people away from her all the time. But it was too late for the answer to do her any good, even if she did know it. Kate was never going to talk to her again after last night, and Brooke, for one, could not blame her.

The dread and self-loathing kept Brooke more or less pinned to her mattress for a long time that morning. It wasn’t until almost noon that she finally decided to brave the hallways, hoping that she wouldn’t run into anybody she’d pissed off lately.

It was hard to miss Dana, as usual. The girl’s auburn hair was in a comparative state of disarray, pinned back with a clip. She was dressed in her night clothes, and she was leaning on the wall near Kate’s door, looking distressed.

Brooke felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach like a lump of ice. What was going on?

Before she had time to puzzle that out for herself, Dana spotted her. Her eyes were wide, and she was looking at Brooke like she was the answer to all her problems. Brooke could not understand why.

“Oh, thank God,” said Dana. “Brooke, can you come try to talk to her? The door’s locked and she’s not answering.”

“Why? What’s going on?” She furrowed her brow. “Why would she talk to me but not you?”

This time, Dana’s expression was easier to read. A beleaguered sort of glare that screamed, ‘Are you serious?’ But it passed. “She likes you,” Dana answered simply. “And… I don’t… I don’t know all of what happened, exactly, but I couldn’t find her after the party and–”

“You lost her?” Brooke’s voice came out as a harsh whisper of disbelief as she stared holes through Dana. “You promised. You promised –”

“I know,” she answered, a bit choked like she was on the verge of crying. “I know. I’m sorry. I… forget my fuck-ups for now, I just need to hear her voice and know she’s okay. She’ll answer you. I know she will.”

Brooke bit back on her anger before she could lay any more scorn on Dana. Any attempt to be and stay angry with her would just run aground on those same rocks again; she knew she was just as much to blame for whatever had upset Kate as Dana was, at the end of the day. Her shoulders slumped, and she turned toward Kate’s door.

The girl within had obviously heard the two people talking right outside, so before Brooke could even announce herself, she heard Kate’s voice from within. It was shaky and small, but just about audible through the cracks around the door. “I’m alive. Is that what you wanted to know? Now go away. I don’t… I don’t want to talk to anybody!”

“Kate,” Brooke tried in a small voice.

“Just… just go, Brooke.” Kate sounded less angry, and more… more something Brooke couldn’t quite name. Perhaps ‘regretful’ was the word.

She was standing right against the door, so when she lowered her head a bit, her forehead lightly thumped into it by accident. She just rested it there for a second.

“... I’m sorry,” Brooke eventually managed, before she stepped away. She shared a helpless look with Dana, who didn’t look much better than she felt. Dana shook her head and walked away, seemingly not keen to relive last night any further, leaving Brooke without any further explanation. Reluctantly, Brooke stepped away too, and drifted to the bathroom, feeling like a ghost the whole way.

A splash of cool water to the face was what she needed. Hunched over the sink, she tried to bring herself back to reality. She couldn’t just stay in the dorm worrying all day, no matter what happened. Besides, Kate said she was okay, didn’t she?

No she didn’t, that annoying voice in Brooke’s head protested. She said she was alive.

And that was the scariest thing of all. ‘I’m okay’ or some variation on it was Kate’s go-to phrase every time she was obviously upset about something. Brooke had never called her on it before.

This time was different.

She only realized she’d been staring into her reflection for too long when another girl entered, cheerily humming. With a glare, Brooke turned her head and found Victoria Chase setting her toiletries bag on the sink next to Brooke’s, smiling smugly. The blonde’s reaction was delayed, as she pretended not to notice Brooke, before acting surprised upon catching sight of her.

“Oh, Scott! It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“You’re acting like a fucking pod person,” Brooke shot back, mistrustful. “And you thinking it’s a beautiful day is never a good sign.”

“Well it’s not every day somebody gets proved so wonderfully right,” Victoria chimed with a malicious grin. “One must celebrate.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard yet? No, of course not, you look like you just rolled out of bed, and you sure as shit weren’t there last night. This is too rich. God, I wish I had a camera on me for this moment…”

Brooke was losing patience with her, hands clenching into fists. “Did you do something to Kate?”

Victoria’s face twisted in an expression of disdain, the mask dropping. “I didn’t do a fucking thing to your little girlfriend, Scott. She did it all herself.” A bit of evil glee returned as she recounted the moment. “Marsh couldn’t handle her liquor. She got wasted and started to throw herself at anyone with a pulse. She must have made out with half the football team before someone pulled her off of them…”

A vast chasm of cold terror opened up beneath Brooke’s feet. “That’s– There’s no way that’s true. You’re bullshitting.”

Victoria gave a breezy shrug in response. “Sorry to disappoint you. It looks like I was right about her showing her true colors after all. She’s just fucking human like the rest of us. Need proof? I left my phone in my room, but I can grab it to show you the video I posted.”

“You posted it online.” Brooke felt the terror be replaced by a deathly calm.

“Well, of course,” Victoria answered with bored detachment. Still, Brooke saw her back away a step. Was Chase actually worried that Brooke was going to take a swing at her?

Well, to tell the truth, Brooke had at least considered it for a fraction of a second. There was an unholy rage building in her, directed away from herself for the moment and solely onto the girl in front of her. But in the end, the calm broke, and Brooke only found the courage to blurt out, “What the hell is wrong with you?” before pushing past Victoria and escaping the bathroom. She couldn’t stand to be in there a second longer.

As soon as she grabbed her phone, her glasses, and threw on her favorite hoodie, Brooke marched out of the dorms and didn’t stop walking until she was well down the road from Blackwell. Still on the hill from which the campus overlooked the Bay proper, Brooke stopped at a bench which was probably actually meant to be a bus stop and slumped into it.

She palmed her phone anxiously for a second, before forcing her shaking hands to behave as she hit the contact she was looking for. She fidgeted through the dial tone until the other end picked up.

Her mom’s voice came through. “Brooke? Is this important? I’m in a meeting right now.”

“Mom,” Brooke started, before struggling for further words. God, where to even start? “I think I really, really fucked something up.”

There was a moment’s silence, before she heard her mother say, “Lewis, I have to go. My daughter needs me. … Then I’ll watch the recording later, it’s a digital meeting.” A pause. “God, honestly. Some people. What’s going on, honey?”

For the first time, it occurred to Brooke that her mom might actually be serious about loosening up on her work schedule this time around. She’d never actually blown off a work obligation for Brooke before. But then again, Brooke didn’t always get into situations like this. Never, in fact.

So for once, she held nothing back with her mom. She let the words pour out, sparing little detail as she recounted her budding friendship with Kate; her encounters with Victoria and Nathan; the events of both the night before and that very morning.

Vera was quiet on the other line as she considered all of it, before she spoke. “School drama sure has evolved since my day. Or maybe it’s just the way Prescott – Sean, I mean – has gotten his hooks into that place. He’s even worse today than he was in school.”

Brooke picked up on where her mom was going with this. “You think I’m screwed if I try to do anything, because Prescott Senior owns the school and will academically disappear me if I do anything to his baby boy.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant,” Vera said dryly, “but you’ve got a bit of a point. Honestly, if the Prescott boy actually had something to do with what happened to your friend, I’m not sure how safe I feel keeping you there.”

“Mom–”

“I know, I know, don’t get ahead of yourself sweetie. You’re obviously not going to let me make you leave your friends behind.”

A month ago, Brooke wanted more than anything to escape Blackwell. But now she hated the idea of running away. Funny thing. “Yeah,” she agreed in a small murmur.

“I think you need to let your friend have some time to process whatever happened. As far as finding out what really happened and who was responsible, well… that’s going to be hard until she decides to speak up about it.”

“If she’ll even talk to me,” said Brooke, staring into the concrete of the sidewalk.

“She will,” Vera said, sounding absolutely certain. “Even from your secondhand descriptions, I know that girl has treasured her time with you. It sounds like she just needs time and distance to recover. Don’t give up, honey. Oh – and please invite her over for dinner once this all blows over? I’d really like to meet this girl who made my Brooke actually like being at school.”

“Mom,” Brooke protested with a small laugh, her cheeks heating a little. “... I’ll think about it. But in the meantime… I mean, I can’t just do nothing.”

“I can’t answer that one for you. But whatever you do choose, remember to be a good friend. Do the right thing. Oh – and try not to get caught.”

Brooke drew in a steady breath, straightening her back a little. “I’ll do it. And if I do get caught… wait, do we still have that lawyer you’re in good with?”

“Yes,” her mom responded, amused.

“Okay, good. I’ll do it.”

Once she hung up, Brooke gathered herself, stood, and faced the wind to take in a deep breath. It was half sharp evergreen, from the forest inland; half sea salt, from the breeze blowing up from the Bay. Screw this moping crap. She had some shit to do.

After marching back up the hill to Blackwell, Brooke searched the quad for the first pair of teens she saw snickering over their cellphones and walked up to them with a fake smile. “Hey. Could you send me that link?”

That evening, Brooke sat at her computer and eyed the webpage where Victoria had uploaded Kate’s video like it was a particularly vile dissection specimen in her bio lab. She had immediately paused the video, and didn’t intend to watch even a second of it, if she could help it. She didn’t need to know what Kate had gone through from anyone but Kate herself. Instead she looked at everything else: the layout, the copyright blurb at the bottom, the secured site padlock in the address bar. And she smiled a wicked, predatory smile.

She knew this hosting service. They were shit. And while Brooke was, first and foremost, a hardware engineer (or at least an aspiring one), she also fancied herself something of a hacker.

After some poking and prodding at the host server with the help of a few different VPNs, Brooke finally found a back door and gave herself unrestricted administrator access. From there, introducing a few strings of code designed to interrupt the video playback was trivial. She deleted the video file off of the server and blacklisted Victoria’s user while she was at it, then decided to check her work.

Brooke cleared her cache and refreshed the page. This time when she tried to click on the video player, it buffered before being replaced by a screen reading: “VICTORIA CHASE IS A VAPID CUNT.”

She leaned back in her chair and played games for about an hour, before she heard a wordless cry of rage from elsewhere in the dorm, and smiled in contentment.

Brooke wasn’t going to stay idle. She’d made her choice, and the life of a loner was no longer possible for her. Nobody was going to fuck with her friends. Not on her watch.

Chapter Text

Monday, October 7th 2013

It was just another Monday at Blackwell. Or at least it should have been. Somewhere beyond Brooke’s perception, the wheel of fate turned. There were entire years she had spent at Blackwell where nothing happened. This would be one of those weeks where decades happened. She just didn’t know it yet.

It started off fairly normally, with Brooke checking her texts in her AM homeroom class. Max and Warren were both pretty concerned about what had been happening and had been blowing her phone up. She’d done her best to assure them that the video was taken care of, even if she hadn’t outright admitted her involvement, but going by the whispers in the classroom, she could not delete it as a topic of conversation. When she had looked at the site the day before, Brooke saw that about 2,000 unique users had already accessed the page. And even for those who hadn’t gotten a chance to see it, word traveled.

She bit her lip as she wondered what to do, but was interrupted when the PA crackled for the morning announcements, which droned on for several minutes. Almost as an afterthought at the end of them, Principal Wells gave a disapproving pronouncement in his drawling voice. “Lastly, I would like to remind everybody that per our cybersecurity guidelines, gaining unauthorized access to anybody’s webpages while on Blackwell campus, or ‘hacking’, is strictly forbidden. Our IT team are going to be doing a full sweep over the next few days, and if anybody is found to have breached this rule, they will face a suspension. Unless, of course, they choose to come forward first.”

But it’s fine to post nasty videos of our classmates and spread them around? Brooke thought bitterly. Good luck, you useless fucker. I’m behind seven proxies.

She knew she had nothing to fear from what she’d done, but she still knew it hadn’t been enough to take the heat off of Kate. Kari was right about the students moving on from the malicious rumors about Brooke once they had something worse to talk about. What the hell would it take to make them forget about Kate?

By the time that class ended, she was no closer to an answer. When the bell rang, she went to lean on her locker, pulling out her phone to pick up on her conversation with Max from earlier.

Max: God this is just getting worse as the day goes on. Don’t people have anything better and nicer to talk about instead of being awful to their classmates??

Brooke: welcome to high school, maxine, population: you and some dumb assholes.

Max: Never Maxine. -_-;

Brooke: chill. yeah this all sucks super hard but we’re never going to convince them to stop being dumb assholes on our own.
Brooke: btw, have you seen kate yet today?

Max: Yeah, I talked with her a little before I left the dorm. And I petted Alice a bit of course. She wasn’t really talkative but she seemed glad I checked on her. She’s in my next class too.

Max’s typing indicator went on for several long seconds.

Max: I think she misses talking to you Brooke. You can just reach out to her you know?

Brooke: well i don’t know what you saw or heard but she definitely doesn’t want to talk to me rn. i really messed things up pretty bad.

Brooke: i’ll make it up to her however i can but i’m going to let her make the first move. she’ll talk when she’s ready.

Max: Are you sure?

Speak of the angel. Brooke caught a hint of gold in the corner of her eye, and found that it belonged to Kate’s cross necklace, which she last saw on the football field the week before. Where it glinted in the sun before, it looked tarnished by comparison in the harsh fluorescent lights of Blackwell.

Kate looked different, too. The white cardigan she’d habitually worn for the past month was replaced by a black one, and there were dark bags under her eyes. The sight of them made Brooke’s heart break a little bit. To know Kate was hiding away over the weekend was one thing. To see the emotional and physical toll on her in person was another.

Kate’s posture was all different, too. She looked like she was trying to shrink in on herself. There was only a small break in it – when she saw Brooke on the other side of the hallway, her eyes widening a bit as she seemed to stand up straighter – but it passed as Kate hid her face from Brooke and hurried on.

Brooke swallowed heavily, then picked up her phone one last time.

Brooke: yeah. pretty sure.

She stuck the phone in her pocket to punctuate the conversation and made her way to her next class. Once again Brooke went through the motions, pretending to care about historical figures of the Pacific Northwest, and counting down the minutes before the bell rang.

Eventually it did, but it wasn’t the one she expected. She and everyone else in the class jolted as Blackwell’s fire alarm abruptly burst into life.

A drill? Didn’t they just have one of these? Shaking her head, Brooke rose along with the rest of the class as they tried to make it out of the room in an orderly fashion. The annoying clamouring of the alarm continued as the hallways filled.

After a few seconds of walking, she was joined at her left by a perplexed-looking Warren. She smiled tightly at him, and he smiled back, though it wasn’t until the alarm cut out a long moment later, as suddenly as it began, that either of them tried to talk.

“Wacky start to the week, huh?” Warren mused.

“No kidding. Think someone pulled it to get out of a test? Seems more likely than doubling up on fire drills in the span of three weeks, at least. Honestly, though, I’m happy for the distraction.”

“No kidding,” Warren said, before looking mischievously at Brooke. “Say, uh, I don’t suppose you’d know anything about a certain vandalized webpage…?”

Nobody else could hear that with the crowd beginning to disperse out into the quad, but Brooke still gave him the stink-eye. “That, Mister Graham, would be illegal. And, I’m told, very suspension-worthy.”

He laughed at that, not fearing her dirty look (he should, dammit!) but giving her a small bump with his elbow. “Well, I think it was incredibly badass of whoever did it, and that they should be proud of standing up for their friend.”

Brooke’s cheeks heated at the praise. “Oh, c’mon… Anyway, it doesn’t seem like it accounted for much, at the end of the day. People are still talking.”

“People always talk,” Warren said, shaking his head as the two of them finally came to a stop, standing in the grass as the school continued to empty. “They’ve already moved on from that crazy stuff they were saying about you last week. They’ll move on from talking about Kate, too.”

This line of thought didn’t sound any more convincing to Brooke than it did when she told it to herself earlier in the morning. Was waiting the only plan anyone could come up with? She just sighed. “Sure.” Then she nodded toward the dorm. “I’m going to go grab some stuff, as long as they’re just keeping us out here. Text me if they change their minds, okay?”

“By stuff you mean your drone, right? Catch you later, Sky Captain of the World of Tomorrow.”

Brooke shot him an amused glance and got to stepping. He was, in any event, right. There was no better way to gather her thoughts than going for a flight.

Some time passed in which Brooke could pretend that everything was normal. Students milled around the quad as she occupied one of her habitual spots, enjoying the relatively clear view of the sky it afforded. Her drone danced above, and Brooke pretended she was up there with it.

The weather was odd – the forecast had called for temperatures in the fifties and cloudy skies, but instead it was bright and sunny and felt like summer – but Brooke supposed she couldn’t complain.

No sign of squirrels or eagles. So far.

A different sort of critter was soon in evidence, however, as Brooke noticed Max approaching her. The brunette looked a bit tense, and there was a worried crease to her brow. She still tried to smile when their eyes met and she sat down on the grass beside Brooke. “Hey…”

“Hey yourself. Are you okay? You look like someone shot your dog.”

Max flinched, then shook her head. “... Any chance I could take your drone for a spin? Just for a minute. I’d like a distraction.”

Brooke passed the tablet over without argument. “Here. Just watch out for trees. Oh, and don’t press on the controls for too long. Gentle touches will do the job.”

Max seemed to be a good listener, because the flight went smoothly. They watched together as the drone zoomed over the campus, and both shared a small laugh when a squirrel fled one of the treetops as it buzzed by.

“I can see why you do this so much. Imagine the shots I could get with this thing…”

“Sorry, Max, it’s my baby. If you want it full time, there’s gonna be a custody battle.”

“As if I would,” Max said with a smile, handing the tablet back. “Thanks Brooke. I needed that after the day I’ve had.”

“Yeah, about that. What’s actually up with you?”

Max hesitated, drumming her fingers on the ground. “I don’t want to get crazy detailed about it, but… I saw some crazy shit go down.” She peeked around to make sure no one was listening in. “You remember what you told me Nathan did last Thursday?”

“Yes,” Brooke confirmed, already starting to grimace. She did not like where this was going.

“I saw him pull a gun, an actual gun on somebody in the girls’ restroom. It was the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Jesus Christ. What? He actually brought a gun to school?” Brooke could believe it. She felt a small shiver of dread. He hated her and he was packing heat; not a great combination. “Well, what happened? Obviously he didn’t shoot anybody or things would be way crazier around here right now.”

Max took a second to reply, like she was trying to get her details straight. “I was hiding in there when the two of them came in, so when I realized what was going on, I kind of… smashed the fire alarm?”

“Oh my God,” Brooke pronounced, unable to help a small laugh of disbelief. “So that’s what it was. Nice thinking, Caulfield.”

“I told Principal Wells about what I saw on the way out,” Max said, and Brooke’s smile vanished. “Hopefully someone can do something about him.”

“Wells is just going to try to bury it,” Brooke sighed. “The guy pays for all his expensive whiskey with Prescott money. I hope this doesn’t come around to bite you. God knows Nathan’s already pissed at me.” Then something occurred to her. “Oh. You didn’t say who he was pulling a gun on. Anyone we know?”

Max was frowning at Brooke’s pessimistic outlook, but her eyes widened at the question. “Oh, right. That’s the other thing! I’m pretty sure it was that expelled girl you were talking about. Kari?”

“Wait, seriously?”

“It must have been. I didn’t really get a good look at her from where I was since Nathan was in the way, but neon-blue hair is pretty hard to miss. I think they were having an argument about money.”

That brought to mind Kate’s warnings about Kari running with a bad crowd. Messing around with Prescott was definitely cause for concern.

“Well, it sounds like you saved her ass, regardless,” Brooke observed. “Maybe she knows more about what he’s been up to lately. I really do think he had something to do with what happened to Kate, Max. Please be careful?”

Max nodded. “I will. Promise. Now, uh, I’ve got to run back to the dorms, Warren wants his flash drive back. Let’s talk later?”

“Sure. See you.”

Once they parted, Brooke stared up into the sky for a little while longer before she trudged off to get herself lunch. She had plenty of thoughts to occupy her along the way.

That evening, when Brooke returned to the dorms to settle in for the day, she paused as she passed Kate’s door. Once again, a wave of guilt washed over her, one which crested when a muffled sound could be heard inside. It sounded like a sob.

Brooke’s hand moved on its own, but paused an inch away from actually knocking on the door. Was this a good idea? She nibbled on her lip, then thought, fuck it. She knocked a second later, and the noise inside quieted.

“Kate? It’s me. Can we talk?”

A resounding silence greeted her. Though she waited for what felt like ages, it was still as the grave behind that door. Was Kate pretending not to be there? After several long seconds, there was a minute tremor as someone came to a stop on the other side of the door. It didn’t open.

Brooke felt an ache in her chest when the silence drew on, but she forced herself to speak again. “... Listen, I don’t understand everything that’s going on, but… I want to do whatever I can to make things right.” Then after a short pause to collect herself, Brooke almost whispered, “I’m here for you. Whenever you’re ready to talk again.”

She didn’t know if Kate heard her. She eventually brushed her fingertips against the door and walked away to go to her own room. There she sat on the bed, hoping against hope that no more curve balls would come her way on this crazy Monday.

That didn’t end up being true, because of course it didn’t. She froze up when she turned her head and saw the eagle perching on the ledge outside her window. Swearing, Brooke stood and marched over, then threw the window open to shoo the stupid bird away. But as the lower bar of the window rose, like a screen wipe in a shitty movie, the eagle disappeared behind it.

Standing there like an idiot and staring at space as if expecting the bird to still be there, Brooke almost didn’t notice as snowflakes began to fall from the evening sky.

“What… the fuck?”

The sky offered no answer. Disbelieving what she saw, Brooke reached out into the unseasonably warm air and let a flake fall on her hand. She started a little as she felt the cold of the snowflake on her skin, its existence a fleeting thing as it quickly melted with her body heat.

Forced to believe, then, Brooke watched the snow continue to fall from a golden, cloudless sky and wondered what tomorrow could possibly have in store.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, October 8th 2013 – Part One

The world called Brooke back to wakefulness long before she’d actually gotten enough hours of sleep with which to greet it. It was a little past six in the morning, and it was still dark. The faint patter of raindrops could be heard against her window, offering no hint of last night’s snowfall.

As she leaned her weight onto an elbow to push herself up, Brooke stared into the indistinct blur of her darkened room. She couldn’t get back to sleep. A pervasive bad feeling about the coming day weighed upon her, like a lead blanket at the dentist’s office. She wished more than anything else that she could just go back to bed and not face it at all. But in time, she felt around on the nightstand for her glasses, then went over to sit at her desk for a while and read in the lamplight.

Just as she was getting ready to head out and start her morning routine, a curious ruckus could be heard reverberating through the walls of the dorm building. Was it something getting knocked over? A minute passed with no further interruptions, and she stood to go look outside. Seeing nothing in the hall, she concluded that it was probably something on the boys’ floors and put it out of mind. She would head for the showers next.

As she approached the bathroom, steeling herself for any stray flying toilet paper rolls (no one could account for TP Girl’s true identity, whoever she was), Brooke spotted Max emerging from within. The brunette’s hair was still damp. When she spotted Brooke she smiled, though Brooke noted that she somehow looked even more out of sorts than she did yesterday.

“All good there, Max?”

“G’morning, Brooke.” Max rubbed her eye with a knuckle. “More or less… It was a crazy day yesterday, the bits after I last saw you included, and today’s not off to such a great start either.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Brooke frowned, concerned. She wondered what Max was alluding to about yesterday, but found the other point a more pressing matter. “What do you mean about not having a great start?”

“Ugh. I was taking a shower just now, and I heard Victoria and Taylor giving Kate shit again outside. She just can’t catch a break…”

Brooke grit her teeth. “Are you serious? We’ve got to do something about them. There’s just no fucking end to the depths they’ll stoop to.”

“Hold the cavalry charge, Winfield Scott. It sucks, but they are just stupid teens like we are. The truth will come out sooner or later, and we’ll fix this. ‘Doing something about them’ is not it.”

Somehow, Max had found the perfect combination of obtuse reference (who the fuck was Winfield Scott, anyway?) and perfectly reasonable response to completely defuse Brooke’s anger before it could get going. Brooke blew out an annoyed puff of breath. “Right, right… whatever. They just piss me off. I’m gonna petition to get the last day I ever have to hear Victoria Chase’s voice made into a federal fucking holiday.”

“I might just cosign that one. ‘Scuse me though, I’m going to have to motor if I want to squeeze some things in before class.” Max waved and stepped past Brooke, who only completed a few more steps toward the showers before she heard Max again. “Oh, shit!”

Turning, Brooke spotted Max staring into her dorm room and decided to go check it out herself. Looking over Max’s shoulder, she found the room completely trashed, various things knocked over onto the floor, and the words “NOBODY MESSES WITH ME BITCH” scrawled across Max’s photo wall in livid red paint.

“Jesus Christ,” Brooke swore. “I thought I heard someone bumping around, but… Jesus.”

“No prizes for guessing,” Max mumbled as she sullenly surveyed her room, invaded and wrecked.

“Prescott.” Shaking her head, Brooke stepped inside along with Max and wordlessly inserted herself into the cleanup process, helping to pick up scattered items along with her friend. “... And the worst part is, he forgot the comma before ‘bitch’.”

Max let out a small laugh, then shot Brooke a halfhearted look of disapproval. “Something tells me grammar was the last thing on his mind.”

“I can’t believe the shit he gets away with just because of who his dad is. This place sucks, man.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Max sighed, straightening up. The mess was mostly dealt with, except for the graffiti… “Damn, I hope he didn’t get Kate’s book…”

“Her what?” Brooke blinked.

“I borrowed one from her last week, I was just gonna return it. Help me out? Sorry my place is such a sty.”

“I was happy blaming it on Prescott before you mentioned it,” Brooke joked. She immediately picked out a heap on the end table near the couch and checked there while Max checked her desk. After carefully removing a half-full soda cup to a safer spot, she upended a couple of items and found something.

It was a copy of The October Country by Ray Bradbury. She loves this guy, Brooke thought sadly, memories of their book clubs flashing through her mind.

Until she stared into the cover of that book, she never realized just how badly she missed being around Kate.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked to Max and held the book up. “Is this it?”

“Wow, good eye,” Max chimed, coming over to take it from her. “I’ll get this back to Kate. Thanks again for the assist, Brooke. I’ll see you later.”

Brooke pondered asking a few things. Or maybe she really just wished she could go with Max to see Kate. But… that obviously still wasn’t in the cards. “Don’t mention it. Um… tell her I said hi. Please.”

“I will,” Max promised, and walked out into the hall again. Brooke followed, then split off to finally make her way to the bathroom for real. She had a lot of preparation to do in a hurry if she wanted to make it to her first class.

Brooke saw Max again sooner than she expected, but only at a distance. Toward the end of her first class of the day, she was once again watching the window. The pre-dawn drizzle had subsided for most of the morning, but gathering clouds already seemed to promise more to come. If she were honest with herself, Brooke would admit she was keeping watch for certain spectral animals yet again. Instead, from the window’s vantage over the parking lot, she saw what could only be Kari’s beat-up truck pull in, before Max stepped out of the passenger side.

Now that was a bit of a surprise. Brooke guessed that Max had caught up with the punk girl and had a chat about yesterday’s bathroom incident. She wondered if she had been able to find out any more about Prescott? But she had no more time to watch Max’s approach to the school or ponder that, as the bell rang. She shook her head, gathering her stuff and heading for her chemistry lab.

She quickly regretted being early, as Ms. Grant, seated at her desk, raised an eyebrow at Brooke and waved her over. Brooke blinked and went to her, wondering what this was about. “Hi, Ms. Grant. I don’t think I’ve forgotten any homework lately, have I?”

“No, Brooke, as usual you’ve been keeping up with the class just fine.” Ms. Grant laughed softly. “What I wanted to talk with you about has nothing to do with academics, in fact. How are you holding up with all of this awful video business that’s been going around?”

“About as well as anyone else, I guess?” Brooke answered with a small frown.

“I’m just asking since I know Miss Marsh is your friend,” the teacher continued gently. “She’s one of my best students, too. I couldn’t help noticing how this situation has affected you both.”

Brooke squirmed a little in discomfort. Damn perceptive teachers. Well, she guessed she should just be glad Ms. Grant actually cared. “Right… It’s been tough, honestly, but I’m fine.”

Ms. Grant nodded slowly, watching Brooke’s face. “I can imagine. Now, I for one am glad that the video isn’t up anymore to spread freely, though I wish our enterprising hacker had chosen a little differently. Answering bullying with bullying is no way to go about things.”

Well, Victoria is a vapid cunt, Brooke thought as she tried to school her expression. Nothing wrong with the plain truth. Obviously Ms. Grant had her suspicions about the hacker’s identity, but Brooke was not going to out herself. “I guess that’s right. But the important thing is that the video’s gone. And I’m glad there’s someone on Blackwell’s staff who actually cares about this stuff.”

“That’s another thing,” Ms. Grant said, leaning back in her seat a little. “It’s clear that between Mr. Madsen’s security camera crusade and this latest incident, cameras of all kinds have been causing a fair bit of grief for everyone at Blackwell. So while I hate to ask this of you, I really think it’d be best if you stopped your drone flights for now.”

“Wait, what?” Brooke tensed up in shock. “I’ve never used the drone for anything wrong.”

“I know, Brooke, you wouldn’t do that. It’s about the principle of the matter. If we’re going to crack down on improper use of cameras, we have to crack down on all of it.” She smiled reassuringly. “It’s just for a couple of weeks, while everything is sorted out. You’re free to do it all you want off-campus. Can you do that for me?”

Brooke was deeply unhappy about this, but she still nodded numbly. “Yes, Ms. Grant.”

She was still sullenly preoccupied with the subject while beginning her lab work. Just another good thing in her life taken away by this whole mess. She wondered what it would take next. Warren passed her a confused look from where he was working a few rows back, but she ignored it.

A few minutes later, Max appeared, wandering meekly into the room in her typical fashion. Ms. Grant gave her a small wave of greeting which Max returned, but she didn’t ask the girl to leave. Brooke watched curiously for a moment as Max exchanged what looked like a very awkward hello with Warren (what was that all about?), before coming over to greet Brooke, too.

“We meet again, Brooke Scott,” she started with mock-drama in her tone. “Having fun with chemistry?”

“Ugh, yeah right. Give me a drone over a beaker any day.” She winced a little as she reminded herself of the new prohibition, but shook it off, lowering her voice. “No further run-ins with you-know-who?”

“No, I spotted him earlier but he didn’t spot me, thank God. I just spent most of the morning catching up with Chloe.”

“Chlo–? Oh.” Delayed realization came over Brooke.

Max cracked a little grin. “Right, I guess I forgot to update you on that earlier. She totally saved my ass from Nathan yesterday, with an assist from Warren at least. We’re old friends. Though I had a heck of a time explaining to her why the first thing I blurted out when I saw her was, ‘You’re Kari?’”

Brooke fought back a blush of embarrassment. “Okay, in my defense, we barely knew each other, even before she left the school. Anyway, I thought you were from Seattle?”

“Yeah, I lived there for five years, but I’m Arcadia Bay born and raised. Me and Chloe were best friends, before.” Max had her elbows leaned on Brooke’s counter, and still looked amused by the whole coincidence. “It makes perfect sense she’d be the one to try to save you from those squirrels. She was always rushing to my rescue whenever we got in trouble.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t somehow manage to fuck up your heartfelt reunion in absentia,” Brooke said, her tone flat. “Did you get a chance to ask her more about…?”

“Uh, here’s not the best place. Let’s meet up later and I’ll update you a bit, okay? I have a class to get to.”

“Sure,” Brooke said, though she was a little disappointed that she would have to wait for the full scoop. “Good luck with your daily rounds.”

Once Max walked off and exited the room, Brooke caught Warren’s eye again. It seemed he’d been observing from a distance with a hint of nervousness, now easing with Max gone. He approached her next. “Hey, Brooke. Got a minute?”

“I have several,” she responded, trying to inject a bit of playfulness into her voice. She wasn’t really feeling it today. “What’s on your mind? Is it about that shiner you’re sporting?”

Warren reached up to touch gingerly around the black eye he hadn’t had yesterday morning. “Uh, no. But I guess that’s a thing, too.”

“Anything to do with you supposedly helping Max’s friend to scare off Nathan Prescott?”

“That’s not exactly what happened,” he admitted, “though it was really cool… Max’s friend almost ran him over in her truck and whisked Max away. I stayed behind to hold Nathan off until Mr. Madsen showed up.”

“How chivalrous,” Brooke remarked, raising an eyebrow. “It’s impressive that you stood up to that prick. Most impressive.”

“You think so?” Warren seemed bashful. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled from foot to foot, smiling. “Well, Darth, that’s in the past. As for the future, apocalyptic or not, the local drive-in is having a Planet of the Apes marathon this week… I was just wondering if you wanted to come with?”

Holy shit, what? Was this actually happening right now? Brooke felt her pulse pick up a little as she processed what Warren was asking for. But, even as amazing as it was…

“Shit. That sounds great, but I just… I don’t think I’d be a lot of fun to be around right now. I’m kind of hung up on all this crap that’s been happening lately. But maybe another time.”

“Dang,” he pronounced, rubbing the back of his head as his shoulders slumped. “That’s what Max said, too…”

… Now wait a tick. Brooke’s brow furrowed, and she felt her mood drop again just as suddenly. “You asked Max, too?”

“Um. Right, but she said she didn’t– said she wasn’t really into–...” He trailed off, having the grace to look embarrassed as he realized what he was more or less admitting to.

I’m his backup plan, Brooke realized, staring into distant space for a moment. Then she punctuated her thoughts with an emphatic: Bruh.

“Did you seriously try to ask Max on a date and come crawling to me when she said no?”

Warren seemed to realize the danger he was in. “... Well, it sounds really bad when you say it like that, but I didn’t mean to–”

“Whatever dude,” Brooke scoffed, then left her books behind as she simply walked around him and made for the door.

“Brooke? Where are you going?” Warren called after her, bewildered.

“On a walk,” she bit out, refusing to look back.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, October 8th 2013 – Part Two

After a minute of determined weaving through the streams of students moving up and down the hallway, Brooke caught up with Max and fell into step alongside her. As Brooke looped her arm through hers, a questioning look came across Max’s face.

“Boys suck,” Brooke uttered by way of an answer.

Max’s expression showed complete understanding of this basic, universal fact. “I don’t suppose that means you’re coming over to the Dark Side?” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Brooke rolled her eyes and swerved well clear of that topic. “I’m guessing you had a little heart to heart with Warren earlier.”

“Oh, dog.” Max winced. “I’m so sorry, Brooke. I should have told you, but it slipped my mind with all the other crap that’s been going on. I let him know as gently as I could that, well, I couldn’t return his feelings. And I might have gently nudged him into asking you instead.”

Brooke took that all in, then huffed. “Bad timing. And it’s not your fault he was a huge blockhead about it. But, hey, you finally worked up the courage and leapfrogged me, huh? I was sure I’d get a chance this week before you did.”

“I guess I just… didn’t see much use in waiting anymore,” Max said with a small shrug. Brooke gave her an assessing look. Max was really different, these past couple of days. Where did she find that confidence? She shook it off to listen as Max kept talking. “Sorry again. I know how invested you were in him.”

“It’s fine,” Brooke sighed. “There are slightly bigger things going on than boy problems right now, anyway.”

So there were. It seemed like fate was enjoying having its ironic way with her recently. As Brooke and Max came up to the art room, they both slowed when they caught Jefferson and Kate standing outside, having what seemed to be a rather involved conversation.

“Knock off this martyr crap, Kate, I can’t help you unless you’re honest with me,” Jefferson was pronouncing in disapproving tones. He fairly towered over the girl, his arms tightly folded.

“Honest?” Kate’s voice shook. She sounded on the brink of crying, posture close and guarded. “I am being honest! Not that anybody seems to believe me anyway…”

“You’re just so brittle in the face of any push back,” Jefferson sighed, fixing his glasses. “What is this? A cry for help or a cry for attention? With you withholding the whole story, it doesn’t exactly paint a pretty picture.”

“That’s really mean, Mr. Jefferson.” Kate sounded pained, backing up from him a step, staring down as she held her hand to her chest. “You don’t get it. Y-you don’t want to get it.”

“Of course I do, Kate–” He started to move to put his hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t!” Kate finally cried. “Nobody does…” And with that, she tore away from him. She started in place, tears already filling her eyes as she looked between Max and Brooke. Then, shaking her head bitterly, she ran past all of them and escaped down the hall.

Brooke and Max both turned their heads to watch her go with matching expressions of disbelief, and Jefferson with an unconvincing look of concern. In Brooke’s case, it was quickly replaced by anger – which grew after a second into unyielding rage. She let go of Max’s arm and stomped up to Jefferson.

“Next time you want to console a crying student,” Brooke hissed as she glared daggers up at him, “maybe consider not accusing her of lying for attention!”

Students in the hall and the nearby classroom were craning their necks to get a load of the shouting, while Mr. Jefferson’s face froze in a look of surprise, before smoothing into an almost lifeless calm. “Miss Scott, you should show some respect–”

“I’ll tell you where to shove your respect,” she swore, and resisted the urge to flip him the bird on top of it. “But first I have to go make sure she’s okay, since you just made her think nobody is going to help her!”

With that, Brooke turned and ignored any further discipline from Mr. Jefferson, leaving an even more stunned Max behind as she tried to follow Kate’s path.

It was clear where Kate had been by the unsettled students left in her wake, but Brooke could not find her in the hall. She swore every time a passing body delayed her, getting increasingly fidgety and agitated the longer it took. Sooner or later, though, she cleared the restrooms and the water fountains, and made it to the front door.

Bursting through the door, Brooke now stood on the stoop of the building. The rain had picked up again into something of a torrential downpour carried on occasional, strong gusts, and while she looked left and right, panting a little, Brooke found herself being pelted with raindrops. No matter where she looked, she couldn’t see Kate anywhere.

“Dammit,” she swore as she jumped down onto the path, kicking up some water from a puddle that was gathering there. She ignored her sneakers soaking through and cupped her hands around her mouth to yell, “Kate! Where did you go?”

There was no answer. But there was a sign. Brooke almost choked when, as she turned her head, she spotted that fucking eagle again. Somehow, despite the rain, it was perfectly clear to her in its outline, like it was somehow glowing from within. It sat perched on the pigeon shit-stained head of the statue on the fountain and stared at her piercingly.

Brooke couldn’t take it anymore. She’d had enough of this creepy bird following her everywhere she went. “What the hell do you want from me?!” she cried out at it, exasperated.

This time, the eagle reacted. It lifted a talon to turn, then the other, and soon was pointing itself in the direction of the Prescott Dormitory. It unfurled its powerful wings with a false start, then took off, gliding toward the dorms.

And Brooke realized what it was trying to tell her. It was just like the day before, when it coaxed her into seeing the snow outside. Has it been trying to lead me? Is that why it keeps showing up?

She had no time to puzzle it out. A terrible feeling was settling in her gut, even as she took off down the path, following the bird. She ran as fast as she could, kicking up splashes of rainwater as she tried to catch up, but quickly found it a useless endeavor. The eagle wheeled skyward, and Brooke’s eyes followed it. She wiped raindrops from her glasses with her sleeve just in time to see the eagle stop its ascent at the rooftop of the dorm building, and then vanish.

“No,” Brooke breathed as she suddenly understood. With fresh urgency, and a wave of dread washing over her, she forced her legs to move again and raced down the sidewalk to the dormitory’s front door. Not her. Please, God! Not her!

Saturday, September 28th 2013

They were sitting together on the floor of Kate’s dorm room for some crucial bonding time between Brooke and Alice the bunny rabbit. At Kate’s encouragement, Brooke was slowly feeding a cabbage leaf through the bars of the cage while the bunny nibbled happily away.

“Alice is normally a bit shy around strangers,” Kate said with a small giggle. “I think she must appreciate you watching out for hawks for her.”

“That’s me. Brooke Scott, animal whisperer.” It was a half-hearted lie at best. She had almost endured a mass squirrel attack earlier that very day, but Alice, at least, did not seem to have it out for her. Brooke considered herself lucky for it. She watched the rabbit sit at perfect ease, numming away at the treat, which was held gingerly between Brooke’s fingers.

While Kate watched fondly, her chin resting in her hands, she pondered something before speaking up. “Can I ask you a sort of personal question, Brooke?”

Brooke shrugged and nodded for Kate to go on.

“Yesterday when we were talking about family, you mentioned it was just you and your mom living together. Sorry if this is an uncomfortable question, but, um…”

“But where’s my dad?” Brooke finished when Kate trailed off. The blonde nodded. “It’s fine, it’s not an incredibly sore subject for me or anything. He died when I was three, so I don’t really remember what he was like.”

“Oh Brooke, I’m so sorry.” Kate looked almost teary-eyed just from that. She was such a softy. “What happened?”

Brooke scratched her chin, choosing her words carefully. This was all second-hand, of course. “My mom told me he was always a bit of a moody guy. Super nice, loving, supportive, all that. But he had these… spells. You know? These dramatic upswings. And… downswings. I think it might have been bipolar disorder. It was hell on him.” Then a short pause. The cabbage leaf had dwindled almost to nothing. Brooke left Alice the stem and withdrew her hand to fold it with her other in her lap. “I guess he lost that fight with himself. He took a bunch of sleeping pills one day. Never woke up.”

Kate seemed not to know what to say at first. “That must have been very hard on your mother.”

“She’s a strong lady,” Brooke said. Whatever minor issues she had with her mom, she would always credit her with that much. “It wasn’t easy for her, being a single mom. But we made it.”

Her friend nodded along slowly. “... I’ve always wondered what could drive someone to do that. But it seems like sometimes… people just don’t feel like they have any other choice. Sometimes the world puts more on a person’s shoulders than they can bear to carry alone.”

Brooke considered Kate quietly before she asked, “You’re religious, right? Does that bother you?”

Kate shrugged. “Catholics have a lot more to say about suicide than my denomination does. It does bother me a bit, but… I’d never, ever judge. I have bad spells myself. Um– not exactly like your dad did. Sort of these… occasional bouts of depression. But they never last long. I don’t think I could ever… do it myself. I wouldn’t be able to handle the thought of leaving my sisters alone.”

“You’re a good big sister,” Brooke assured her, easing back to lean her weight on her hands. “It’s good to know you’re not going anywhere. We only just got to know each other, after all.”

That prompted a very small laugh from Kate. “I’m not going anywhere,” she affirmed. “I promise.”

Tuesday, October 8th 2013

No matter what had changed – no matter what Brooke had done wrong – she would not, in a million years, let that terrifying possibility become a reality. I can’t lose her, she thought, feverish with panic and sorrow. I WON’T lose her.

She felt her hands throw the rooftop door open, and suddenly realized that she had managed to surmount the entire building in what must have been less than a minute. She’d never run so fast in her entire life, and the thudding of her heart in her chest was testament to the strain.

Brooke gasped in the rainy air as she finally stopped, drenched to the bone, colder than she’d ever felt. And she stared at the figure standing on the edge of the roof.

She almost didn’t recognize Kate. Her friend had pulled her hair tie off and was clutching it in her hand, loosening her habitual bun into surprisingly long tresses of dirty blonde which buffeted in the wind. She had been standing firm when the door opened, but at the sound of it slamming to a halt, Kate turned and staggered a bit as she stared.

Her mascara was running in dark streaks down her face from those hazel eyes of hers, usually so full of warmth. Now they widened in shock. Brooke watched Kate’s expression change from one twisted up in grief to something far more complicated.

Brooke swallowed heavily as she straightened up, her hands shaking at her sides. No matter what happened next, she would make sure that they both made it safely back to earth.

She had to.

Chapter Text

[ ♪ ]

Tuesday, October 8th 2013 – Part Three [ Kate ]

Kate Marsh used to believe in miracles.

They were whispered to her in bedtime stories almost from birth, learned in songs, told to her in the church pews. The Lord leading His people out of the land of Egypt. The feeding of the five thousand. The raising of Lazarus. As far away as they all were in time and space, they were as familiar and as close to her heart as anything in her own life. It was as if the people they happened to were members of her own family, however far-flung.

Everything that had happened in the past four days had made her question the notion that it was ever real at all. The world filled with God’s love which she had known as a child seemed like just another story – and a cruel one for its apparent falsehood.

Where had the miracles been when she’d felt herself pulled out of her own body during that party? When she felt that sharp sting in her neck? When she’d woken up outside of her dorm room unhurt but feeling so, so violated? And where had they been when her own mother and aunt had expressed their shame in her? When she was mocked in the halls and classrooms? When even her favorite teacher called her a liar?

Kate was not Lazarus. She knew that if she threw herself down now, Christ wouldn’t raise her again. She knew that her suffering would be over. That she would have escaped from this cold, black pit that she couldn’t claw her way out of.

She could stop thinking about how worthless she was. How tarnished. How fallen.

And then Brooke had thrown that door open. Then she was there, where she could not possibly be. Somehow, in Kate’s very darkest moment, there was an angel. And Kate wondered if miracles were possible after all.

“Brooke?” she asked the figment, her voice cracking in disbelief.

But the girl in question was all too real. Brooke straightened her back a little, then reached up, pulling her wet bangs out of her eyes in a loose grip, her relief obvious in her expression. The sight of the almost-smile made Kate’s heart twist in a funny little knot. “I made it,” Brooke exclaimed, sounding out of breath.

“Brooke, you can’t be here,” Kate insisted, her fingers curling against her shirt where she clutched her hair tie to her chest. She let her fingernails press upon the fabric, the faint pain of them digging into her skin serving to ground herself. “Not you of all people. You shouldn’t have to see–”

Brooke already lost one person in her life to suicide. Kate could not step away from the edge – but, in equal part, she couldn’t bear the idea of Brooke seeing it happen. The conflict was already tearing her apart, and Brooke had only been there for a few seconds at most.

This, too, was why she hadn’t wanted Brooke to be there. It would make it so, so much harder to go through with it. Kate could not possibly decipher her feelings about this girl – this frustrating, brilliant, fierce girl – at least not with the tools then at her disposal. But she did know that being around Brooke made her happy. How easy had it been to forget that, after not seeing her for just a few days?

Brooke took a hesitant step forward, and Kate felt like her heart stopped as she saw her drawing closer. “Please don’t do this, Kate.”

“Stay back! I’ll jump” Kate warned, taking a defiant step backward so she was right on the precipice again. A chorus of distant gasps greeted her ears – it seemed that others had noticed what was happening on the roof while she was distracted with Brooke. Tears began to pour down her cheeks anew. This hurt so much more now. Why did it have to be this way? “I said you can’t be here. Just go!”

Brooke stopped, understanding that Kate meant the threat, but she did not back up. Behind her glasses, Kate could not tell if those were tears or raindrops collecting near the corners of Brooke’s eyes. Her voice trembled as she held Kate’s stare. “I wasn’t there for you after the party. The v-very least I can do is be here for you now.”

“Oh Brooke,” Kate whispered, before letting her voice rise to audible levels again as she shook her head. “I didn’t let you come near me after… after everything. You don’t owe me anything, because it’s all my fault. I couldn’t face you because I… I was ashamed.”

“Ashamed of what?” Brooke questioned, blinking at Kate in abject confusion.

“Of not listening to you,” she confessed, her voice quavering on the last syllable as she sobbed, pressing the heel of her palm against her eye in a vain attempt to stop the tears. And never did she hate herself more than she did in that very moment. “Why didn’t I just listen? I was so damned proud, so pissy about you just wanting to look out for me. And now I’m paying for it, every hour of every day.” She managed to lift her face again to stare miserably into Brooke’s eyes, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t see anger there. “You were right, Brooke. About everything. About Nathan. I’m starting to think you were right about God, too. He’s not listening after all.”

But there was no anger there. Only something fragile and curiously longing – and tears beginning to fall down Brooke’s cheeks in visible trickles to mirror Kate’s own.

“Kate,” Brooke whispered, the name laden with emotion. “I don’t care if I was right or wrong or somewhere in between. All I ever wanted is for you to be happy. And the past few days, all I’ve wanted is to see you smile again. Don’t– don’t blame yourself. It takes two to tango, y-y’know?”

Brooke had to pause a second to find her voice after that last stammer, wiping raindrops from her lips with a quick, frustrated motion. “I could have found a way to talk to you even if you were avoiding me. Or even better, if I cared so much, I could have weaseled my way into the Vortex party instead of going to sulk in my stupid room.” Brooke folded her arms close to her chest, as if hugging herself, and Kate felt a twinge of grief at the way the misery on Brooke’s face seemed to mirror her own. “I messed up by pushing you away, by being overprotective. Please… don’t blame yourself for anything.”

“You’re too good, Brooke,” Kate told her. “So much better than you think you are. You can’t take the blame, either. Maybe neither of us can. The only thing I know for sure is… is that there’s just one way to put a stop to all this.” She wavered in place, feeling perilously close to falling for a second. “Everyone at this school can get the ending to this story that they want. My family won’t have to live through the shame of having a slut for a daughter. And you… you can stop worrying about me so much. Can’t you see?” She turned her gaze to the heavens above, and saw only dark gray clouds. “Nobody will miss me.”

“That’s not true,” Brooke protested, almost frantic. Her voice was low and hoarse. “Your sisters deserve to have you in their lives – not just as a sad memory. Your dad would be shattered. Max would be crushed. You’ve touched the world so much more than you know, Kate. So many hearts will be broken if you die.” Brooke trembled, on the verge of some painful admission, and added in a small, broken voice, “Not least of all mine…”

Kate’s eyes widened, and she stared at Brooke like she saw her anew. From deep in her heart, so cold and forlorn a moment ago, a strange warmth bloomed into a fragile blossom of… something. Hope? Love? Whatever it was, its delicate petals were held in Brooke’s hands, and Kate felt herself rapidly losing this tug-of-war for her soul. She unconsciously stumbled forward a couple of steps, closer to Brooke, and away from the edge.

“Brooke,” she spoke again, tremulous. “What can I do?”

Somehow, she trusted without a trace of doubt that her friend would have the answer. And she did.

“Come back from the edge,” Brooke urged her, barely able to speak, shoulders shaking with every sob she suppressed. “We can… we can find the way forward. Together.” Then she held her hands out, palms facing upward.

Kate reached out, too. Her fingertips traced along Brooke’s own first, tentative, before her hands settled snugly into the other girl’s. Then, unable to contain herself any longer, Kate threw herself into Brooke’s arms, swaddling her friend in a tight hug, and began to sob.

Brooke couldn’t hold her crying back anymore, either. They sank to their knees together on the slick rooftop, and for a few minutes, nothing in all the world existed for them but each other. They did not hear as the crowd which had gathered below cheered at the apparent happy ending to the story. And they did not see Max when she appeared out of thin air by the door, eyes wide with shock and confusion at what she saw, and blood falling from her nostrils in thin trickles.

But they did feel her arms wrap around them both when she too knelt down. And for the first time in days, Kate knew that everything would be okay.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, October 8th 2013 – Part Four [ Brooke ]

Their procession down the stairwell of the Prescott Dormitory was a slow and careful one. Brooke had left a slick of rainwater on her way up which posed a bit of a wet floor hazard, so some careful motion was needed. The three girls weren’t in a rush anyway. They were all feeling quite delicate right now, and knew this would be their last real moment of calm before they were set upon by the crowd outside.

Brooke led the way, Kate clinging limply to her hand. Max followed behind, staring at her shoes and trying to wipe away her impromptu nosebleed. Weird, Brooke thought, though Max soon interrupted her pondering.

“I’m so glad you were there, Brooke,” Max mumbled, then wiped her hand on her hoodie. “I got there a bit late. I was afraid I wouldn’t make it at all…”

“It’s good you were there period, Max,” Brooke said. And though Kate obviously hadn’t found her voice again yet, Brooke could see her nodding in agreement and passing Max a shy smile.

Max smiled too, a little awkwardly, then let out a puff of breath. “It’s going to be crazy out there.”

Brooke had a feeling that prediction was going to be proven correct any moment now. As they neared the door leading out of the dorms, she gave Kate’s hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. Once they’d had a moment to prepare, Brooke opened it and stepped outside.

Immediately it felt like she ran into a wall of solid sound. Squinting through the slowly diminishing rain, she found what must have been almost the entire student body of Blackwell standing on the lawn in front of the dormitory, cheering and applauding for her, Kate, and Max.

Brooke cast a disbelieving glance at her friends and found them both looking just as confounded and overwhelmed as she was. It was fortunate that some members of the faculty had formed a line to stand between the crowd and the girls, though even the teachers were joining in on the ovation.

And all it took to bring them together in one common cause was an innocent girl trying to kill herself. Christ. Feeling bile burning its way up her throat, Brooke tore her eyes away to find the source of the flashing lights she saw in her peripheral vision. There was a police cruiser from the ABPD parked behind an ambulance, and Brooke saw a police officer step away from the cruiser to walk up to them.

“Girls,” he greeted with a small nod and a tip of his hat, a sympathetic look on his face. “Well, Max knows me already, but for the benefit of you two, I’m Officer Anderson Berry. I’m here to help escort Miss Marsh to the hospital.” He passed a quick look between the trio, trying to make eye contact with each. “You were all incredibly brave today.”

Brooke mumbled a thank you, rubbing the back of her neck. She glanced at Kate to check her friend was okay with this development, and saw her nodding slowly and stepping forward. Before joining Officer Berry, though, Kate seemed to pause in thought for a moment. She still had Brooke’s free hand in hers, so now she turned to face Brooke fully and set her other hand over Brooke’s.

“Together,” she affirmed softly, and the one word in her hoarse voice sufficed to reassure Brooke about seeing her go away.

Brooke eased a little and nodded back. “I’ll visit you. I promise.”

Kate let go then, waving to Brooke and Max as she went with Berry. Brooke only had a second to sigh and watch her retreating form before Mr. Madsen appeared, his posture stiff and awkward. He didn’t look particularly happy to see either of them, but he got straight to the point.

“Principal Wells wants to see you two. Straight away.”

“Oh hi, Mr. Madsen,” Max greeted with false enthusiasm. “We’re okay, thanks for asking.”

Brooke held back a laugh as Madsen glared at Max. She wondered what that beef was all about? Still, the security chief didn’t rise to it.

“Let’s not waste time, please,” he said gruffly, and turned to start walking. Brooke shook her head at Max and followed him as they made their way back to the school.

It was an awkward and unlikely bunch who were eventually crammed into Wells’ office. The principal himself stared down at Kate Marsh’s student file on his desk, rubbing his temple with his fingers; there was an emptied glass nearby which Brooke suspected had never once held water in it.

Mr. Madsen milled around self-importantly, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops and a scowl on his face as his suspicious eyes wandered over the room’s other occupants.

Mark Jefferson had his arms crossed. He was trying his best to look calm and collected, but Brooke thought she detected a hint of agitation in his posture. He was studiously not looking at her.

Nathan Prescott sat in the first of three chairs, carelessly leaning forward, his elbows planted on his legs. His cold gaze flicked around frenetically, his foot tapping on the floor. He only focused occasionally to glare daggers at Max and Brooke.

Speaking of Max, she was in the next chair over from Nathan’s, trying to look as small as possible. Her involvement in the incident had been comparatively minor, but she had been asked along anyway. Brooke was privately glad that she had an actual ally here.

Lastly, there was Brooke herself, seated in a spare metal chair that was much less comfortable than Max’s or Nathan’s looked. To say nothing of that virtual throne that Wells was safely sequestered in. Her clothes were still soaked through, her hair was a mess, and the steel seat was a literal pain in the butt, but Brooke ignored the discomfort. She sat with her legs spread slightly, back straight, and arms crossed, hoping she was doing a good job of projecting confidence. She felt no desire whatsoever to seem polite and conciliatory around these people; as far as she was concerned, everyone in this room but Max had played a part in sending Kate up to that rooftop.

With the tension thick in the air, everyone was dead silent. It fell on Principal Wells to eventually break the stillness with a sigh. “In all my years here at Blackwell, I think it is safe to say that the school has never been challenged quite like this. But, at the end of the day, we avoided tragedy. I’m proud to see how our community came together to save a student’s life.”

Brooke failed to suppress a scoff, which won her a tired glance from Wells, and glares from Madsen and Nathan. None of them said anything, so Wells went on.

“Of course, we owe Ms. Scott in particular special thanks,” the principal amended somewhat, looking at her. “You showed grace and maturity beyond your years by helping your friend.”

Brooke’s lips thinned, but she kept herself from saying or doing anything stupid, just nodding stiffly. Wells took that as a sign to move on to his next grandiose statement.

“But what happened today should never be allowed to happen in these hallowed halls of learning. Our students should never feel driven to such extremes. Mr. Madsen –” and as Wells said that, the security chief tensed up – “... the doors to the rooftops are to always be locked. That was your responsibility. Please make sure that doesn’t happen again.” Then his searching eyes moved on. “Mr. Jefferson, with as much as Kate helps out with projects for your classes, I am surprised you did not notice anything amiss.” Jefferson was stoically quiet, only furrowing his brow a little. “And lastly, Mr. Prescott, you oversee all Vortex Club activities, including the party where that horrible video was recorded. We have a good many questions for you.” Nathan clicked his tongue and averted his gaze.

Then Wells looked over Max and Brooke in turn, assessing. “What I do not understand is exactly how you girls came to be on the roof with Kate today. Were you aware of what she was planning? Please, tell us everything.”

Brooke and Max shared a look. After a second, Max nodded to defer to Brooke, who went first. “Max and I saw Kate having an… argument with Mr. Jefferson. When she ran out crying, I followed her, because I was worried about what could happen if she ran into one of the students who’s been bullying her. She was vulnerable.” She squeezed her elbow through the sleeve of her hoodie. She couldn’t tell them the whole story. “Once I realized she’d gone outside, I guessed that she would have headed back to her dorm room. I was almost right. When I heard a sound on the roof, I raced up there as fast as I could.”

She looked at Max, who picked up from there.

“... And after Zach Riggins called everybody outside, I slipped through the crowd to go help. I’ve been talking with Kate since the party incident, so I hoped I could convince her to come down. I couldn’t really see everything that was going on up there, so I didn’t know whether Brooke had been having luck or not. By the time I made it to the top, she’d already gotten Kate back from the edge.” A rather well-composed answer by Max’s standards, Brooke thought. Max flashed her a quick, grateful smile for her work, which Brooke awkwardly returned.

Nodding thoughtfully once the accounts were finished, Wells spoke up. “So the immediate cause of the incident was this argument with Mr. Jefferson.” He turned his searching gaze on the now rigid photography teacher. “Mark, could you explain this argument that the girls overheard?”

“I had… approached Kate outside of the classroom because I was concerned by the bullying she’d been experiencing,” Jefferson said, tentative when he started, but soon smooth and controlled. “I hated to see the other students laughing at her.”

Brooke cut in, glaring fiercely at him. “Is that why I heard you calling her ‘brittle’? Is that why you said she was probably lying for attention? It seemed like you were having fun joining in on the bullying yourself, Mr. Jefferson.”

Jefferson glared back. “You didn’t have the context of the full conversation, Miss Scott. And need I remind you that you shouldn’t have even been there to start with?” He gestured helplessly to Wells, as if seeking backup. “Mr. Wells, this girl skipped class to come shout at and insult a teacher–”

“And both of those incidents were on my desk before Miss Marsh even stood on that rooftop, Mark,” Wells responded with a scowl. “Frankly, I don’t give a hoot about what rules Miss Scott might have broken today, when if she hadn’t, Miss Marsh might well have lost her life.”

Huh, Brooke thought she felt her respect for Principal Wells increase from a one to a two out of ten with that. Still, the reminder of the knife’s edge Kate’s life had rested on made her gulp heavily, before she sent Mr. Jefferson another hard look.

“You owe your students better.”

Wells looked at Max. “Does this match with what you heard, Miss Caulfield?”

Max looked a little unhappy. Brooke recalled that Jefferson was something of a photography hero for her. But still, the brunette nodded slowly. “Yeah, it does. It was… pretty harsh.”

Jefferson’s shoulders sagged a little. He seemed to know he was beaten.

“Then I must echo what Miss Scott said a moment ago,” Wells told Jefferson. “We owe our students better than that. Miss Marsh deserved understanding, not judgement.”

Nathan chimed in, sneering. “If she didn’t want judgement, maybe she shouldn’t have asked to be in a video slobbering on ten different dudes. And a couple of chicks, too,” he added with a leer.

Brooke had never watched the video, so this piece of information was news to her. Was it true? Did it even matter? She was too busy seeing red to think about it intelligently, just about ready to fly out of her seat and tear Prescott a new one. But before she could move, Max took hold of her arm.

Brooke looked at the brunette questioningly, and saw her shaking her head urgently at Brooke, blue eyes wide with alarm.

How the hell did she know…? Never mind. Brooke exhaled and forced herself to be calm, letting Max respond to Nathan instead.

“Kate didn’t ask anything,” she spoke tersely, staring him down. “I talked with her about her memories of that night and she told me she barely drank anything before she started to feel unwell. She was drugged. And I think you had something to do with it.”

“Drugged?” Nathan blurted, incredulous. “Obviously she had a bit more than just one sip.”

“You told her you were going to take her to the ER,” Max accused.

“Yeah, I did say that, and then she sobered up while I was helping her and she was on her merry way. Nothing happened. ” His warning glare promised retribution if she contradicted him.

Brooke couldn’t listen to this anymore. “I wouldn’t bet on it,” she snarled at him. “Why don’t you tell the Principal and the others what you said to me on Thursday?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grit out, his glare passing to her.

“I believe your exact words were, ‘we’re going to make sure you know your place. And your Jesus freak friend too, real soon’. Isn’t that right?”

“Your word against mine,” he denied with an uncaring shrug.

“Maybe we can just blame that on alcohol too,” Brooke retorted acidly.

Max chimed in again, her arms crossed as she joined Brooke in glaring at Nathan. She was as angry as Brooke had ever seen her. “And if that’s not enough, how about we revisit the issue of you pulling out a gun in the girls’ restroom?”

“That’s slander!” he exclaimed, pounding his fist on Wells’ desk. “You want this to get litigious, Caulfield? I’ll sue you and this damned school if I have to!”

“That will be enough, Mr. Prescott,” Wells finally spoke, glowering and unamused. “This is the second time I’ve heard of this alleged gun incident, and while I still don’t know if it is true or not, the testimony of these ladies paints a very unappealing picture. On the basis of this and past disciplinary action against you, I’m afraid I don’t have any other choice but to suspend you pending a fuller review of these allegations.”

Nathan stared hard at Wells, then slumped, staring hollowly at Brooke and Max. “So, the Feminazis win the day.” Then he threw his hands up in dismissal and stood. “Fine. I’ll see you in court.” With that, Nathan stormed out.

Shaking his head, Wells glanced at Jefferson once more. “As for you, Mark, I’m afraid that this matter will be coming up in your next review. But for now, I am going to remove you from presiding over the Everyday Heroes photo contest.”

“You can’t be serious,” Jefferson said, but at Wells’ warning look, he sighed. “I understand. This is bigger than me.”

He was impressively full of shit. Brooke chose to just take silent satisfaction in him getting snubbed like that, and turned her attention to the pair of forms Wells was sliding over the desk.

“Thank you for your honesty, Miss Scott, Miss Caulfield. Sign these to confirm what you’ve told us here today, and you can be on your way.”

“I can’t believe Wells actually did something,” Brooke told Max with a slight grin as the two of them walked down the hall toward the doors of Blackwell Academy.

“I was kind of surprised, myself,” Max admitted. “He didn’t seem willing to believe what I said about Nathan yesterday. I guess he felt spurred to action.”

“Bureaucrats always move at snail speed until they think their ass is on the line,” Brooke observed. “Or that’s what my mom always said, anyway.”

The two of them emerged into the evening air, the orange light of the setting sun illuminating them as they slowly strolled down the front steps.

“I do feel a little bad for Mr. Jefferson. He seemed pretty upset about not being able to stay on with the photo contest.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over that, Max.” Brooke glanced at one of those creepy photo displays Jefferson had put up on the lawn. “He is so not the ‘cool, approachable teacher’ he wants you to think he is.”

A statement based principally on gut feeling and the one conversation they’d overheard him having with Kate, but Brooke still felt quite justified in her estimation. And Max still considered carefully, lips reluctantly pursed, before shrugging and letting the matter drop.

“He is an even bigger hipster than me,” Max finally said, with a hint of impishness.

Brooke patted her shoulder. “You’ve finally admitted what you are. It’s the first step to recovery,” she told her solemnly. Then they both laughed.

There was a bit of motion, and the girls looked over. Brooke saw Warren milling in place on the path nearby, having stopped on his way to the dorms. He looked like he wanted to say something to them, but he ultimately just nodded awkwardly, waved, and then kept walking.

Brooke sighed as she watched him go. “There’s another problem I need to address. I really lost track of the fact that happened in all the, uh, excitement.”

“Things with Warren will be fine,” Max assured her. “Once you and him clear the air, you can go back to being friends again.”

“I hope so,” Brooke mumbled. The two of them finally came to a stop to sit on the lawn, facing the setting sun. “Everything’s so complicated now. I miss when my life was just worrying about video game spoilers and trying to get a boy to like me. And that was just a few days ago.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Max said, a bit of weight behind the quiet pronouncement.

Brooke lifted her knees to prop her hands on them, thumbs linked together. “So, you and Chloe… What’s going on there?”

Max’s fair skin immediately reddened. “Huh? What makes you think there’s anything going on? She’s my best friend, it’s not like…”

Brooke stared at her blankly. “That’s not what I meant, you dweeb. I’m talking about you spending most of the last two days with her. I’ve barely seen you outside of classes.”

“Oh,” Max mumbled. “Well, we’re just making up for lost time. I was gone for five years…”

“Yeah, right after you almost saw her get shot by Prescott. You two are up to something.”

Max worked her jaw this way and that, eyes far away. Brooke waited patiently while she hashed out whatever inner crisis she was having. Eventually, Max said, “I think Rachel Amber’s disappearance is connected to what happened to Kate.”

“Whoa. What? Why do you say that?”

“There are just too many coincidences around both of them. The Vortex Club, Mr. Madsen, and Nathan…”

“What exactly makes you think Nathan and Rachel had anything to do with each other? She partied, but she wasn’t really friends with him. For that matter, what does Mr. Madsen have to do with anything?”

“I saw him interrogating Kate yesterday,” Max divulged, picking at the grass between her fingertips with a frown. “He was treating her like a suspect. And I guess you must not have noticed when you went running off, but he was snapping these pictures of her when she went out in the rain earlier. It was so creepy…”

“That fucker!” Brooke swore. She always knew that guy had bad vibes.

“And, look, I don’t know if Chloe would exactly like me to share this, but you have to know. You’re… wrapped up in all this now. Early last week, Nathan drugged her, too. She managed to get away in time.”

Brooke felt the blood leave her face. Nathan had struck more than once? “... So if… if he drugged Kate, and he drugged Chloe…”

“Then they might not be the only ones,” Max finished solemnly.

There was a lot more to say, but Brooke found her thoughts going astray when she felt a strange chill on her face. It was getting… darker? Squinting, she shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked to the horizon, and saw something impossible.

“Is that…” Max breathed.

“An eclipse,” Brooke confirmed. “You’re not tripping. But that’s… it’s not even the right moon phase for a solar eclipse right now. This can’t be real.”

But it was, and the feeling of the world growing darker and colder as a result told her as much.

“First the snow, now this,” Max said, drawing her legs closer to hug them. An expression of naked worry passed over her face, before she peeked at Brooke from the corner of her eye. “Brooke, do you know anything about chaos theory?”

The digression confused Brooke, but she would play along. “A bit. Henri Poincaré theorized about the behavior of complex systems over a century ago. Mathematicians have developed it since then. Small differences in the initial conditions of the system cause exponential changes, which lead to wildly different end results. Why? You’re not considering a career in meteorology, are you? Because I think this eclipse is a bit above the local weatherman’s paygrade…”

“I guess all the crazy weather has me thinking about that saying. About a butterfly flapping its wings in one place and causing a hurricane somewhere else. Like something has changed and now there’s all these unforeseen consequences.” Max’s voice had grown a little quieter. She wrung her fingers together.

“People get the butterfly analogy wrong a lot,” Brooke pointed out. “The point isn’t that the butterfly is changing the system depending on the way it chooses to flap. Rather, the point of chaos theory is that we don’t have the ability to know the position of every proton, of every cloud particle, or… every butterfly, either. The butterfly is a small, unnoticed thing in the system. It is one of the initial conditions. So while the storm might seem random or chaotic in nature, it actually has a deterministic cause. We just can’t see it.”

Max smiled faintly at the correction. She seemed to be listening closely. “Well, maybe it’s not the best analogy. Maybe it’s more like A Sound of Thunder. The Bradbury story. Maybe someone’s come back from traveling to the past with a crushed butterfly on the bottom of their boot.”

Brooke laughed and shook her head. “And the initial conditions changed? It’s a fun theory, but last I checked, road trips to the Mesozoic were still impossible here in real life.” Then she gave a light shrug. “Chaos might be what killed the dinosaurs, but we’re gonna survive. Poincaré also said that dynamical systems tend to return eventually to a state similar to their initial one, given enough time.”

“I hope Blackwell will, that’s for sure,” remarked Max.

Brooke paused for a second, pensive. “Me too.” Then she turned to put her hand on the other girl’s arm and look her in the eye, imploring. “Look. Like you said – I’m wrapped up in all of this now. I want to find out why Kate got hurt. I want Nathan to pay. So whatever you and Chloe are up to… I want in.”

Max’s eyes widened a little, before she got a pondering look on her face. “I don’t… Mm. I’ll… have to talk to Chloe. But I’d like your help, Brooke. I really would.”

“It’s that or I keep shaking you down for updates every time I see you,” Brooke promised with a grin. “I can be really annoying, I promise.”

“Well, we don’t want that,” Max finally remarked, smiling again.

The two watched the moon continue its improbable transit of the sun, and tried for a few minutes not to think about the end of the world.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, October 9th 2013 – Part One [ Brooke ]

Bone-tired, Brooke collapsed into bed that night and fell asleep instantly. She was just about starting to enter REM sleep when her phone buzzed noisily by her head and brought her back to the waking world. Startled a bit, she took a second to fumble for it and look at the screen, then puffed her bangs out of her eyes and flopped over onto her back to answer.

“Max?”

“Hey Brooke. Do you have a minute?”

“Since I wasn’t doing much but sleeping, sure. What’s up?”

Max sounded penitent. “Oh, geez. Sorry, I didn’t think you’d already be in bed. Look, I just need a bit of your science wizardry and I’ll get out of your hair. Let’s say someone had access to the science and art labs and needed to get in through a locked door without the key?”

Brooke’s mind took a second to catch up. She rose, feeling that she needed to be sitting up for this one. “What the shit, Caulfield? Why?”

“Um, that sounded bad. Look, it’s actually for the investigation. We really need some info that’s being held under lock and key. And… well, I probably shouldn’t actually say any more. Plausible deniability for your sake, y’know? Sorry, I’d ask Warren, but…”

Brooke rubbed her forehead. “Alright, alright… But I’m gonna expect a really good explanation about this in the morning. So there’s a box of sodium chlorate in the science lab. It’s got weedkiller branding on it, but it’s also a common explosive material. A little whiff of that should be enough to blow a lock as long as it’s not too sturdy. As for how to make that happen, I’ll text you in a minute. If you get caught, you’re on your own, okay?”

“I won’t,” Max promised, sounding more sure than Brooke figured she had any right to be. “Thanks a million, Brooke. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Brooke grunted and ended the call. After hurriedly typing out the instructions in a text, she tossed her phone away and flopped over on her side, trying not to think too hard about what Max was up to. Don’t wake me up again before I get at least a hundred hours of sleep, world. I’ve earned a good rest.

“We need to talk.”

Brooke had her head buried in her towel when she heard the voice, and was busy drying her face off. She wished she could pretend not to have heard, but she surrendered one inch of fabric at a time, slowly dragging the towel down her face to glare at Victoria.

“I don’t think we do,” was her blunt reply.

Victoria had her arms crossed in her typical imperious fashion. At the negative response, she scowled disdainfully, taking a breath through her nose. “Look, don’t brush me off here. This is serious. It’s about Kate.”

Brooke turned to face Victoria fully, bunching her towel up in her arms as she talked. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You bullied her to the brink of suicide and now you want to have a heart to heart with me about it?”

Something snapped behind Victoria’s eyes. But rather than flare up like Brooke had seen her do before, this time the fire seemed to go out of her. She jutted her sharp chin off to the side, eyes hooding part way as she rubbed her arms.

“I was a monster. To a girl who never once deserved it. All that shit about Kate ‘showing her true colors’ was a fantasy. You were right. I was wrong.” Every word seemed to have to be dragged out of her, but Victoria sounded somewhat sincere. Like Brooke gave a crap.

“For God’s sake, why does everybody seem to be under the impression that the only thing I care about is being right all the time?”

Victoria gave her an incredulous look, and a beat of silence played out.

“Fuck you,” Brooke responded to that look, and dismissed the point entirely. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to anyway. But I swear to dog, if you hurt her again I’ll rip you a-fucking-sunder.”

“You know it’s really hard to take your badass routine seriously when you’re quoting Caulfield at me,” Victoria pointed out, her eyebrow twitching upward. “You really do hang out too much. Ugh.” Then, after pinching the bridge of her nose, “At least let me apologize for the thing I actually did to you then.”

“Yeah, I can’t say I was quick to move on from that one. Even after you shifted to another target.” Brooke exhaled sharply through her teeth, annoyed and just wishing to get this over with. “Fine, do your worst.”

To her credit, Victoria maintained eye contact and behaved like a relatively normal person as she got underway. “Look. I’m sorry. Genuinely. I acted like a total psycho bitch, and I shouldn’t have started those rumors, knowing how they’d spread around so much.”

“So, to be clear, you’re not sorry that you said it; you’re sorry that it got out of hand.”

“Ugh! No. Fuck, that’s not it.”

“Why were you so fixated on the gay angle anyway?” Brooke interrogated, eyes narrowing at her.

“Oh come on, like you aren’t. Don’t go all closet case on me…”

“I’m not. And Chloe Price says the same thing about you, you know,” Brooke countered slyly.

Victoria’s mouth fell open for a second in astonishment, before it clicked shut again, and she squinted back at Brooke. When she spoke again, it came with a complete abandonment of the tangent, which Brooke just let slide. “Look, Scott. It really just boils down to the same reason I went after Kate so hard. It’s stupid and it’s vain, but it’s the honest to God truth. I’m…” She seemed to struggle with it, fingers digging into the arms of her expensive sweater. “I’m insecure. And you and Kate aren’t.”

Brooke blinked at the admission, trying and failing to understand. Did Chase really have a soul deep down after all? “Okay. I don’t follow. You being insecure I get, but where did you get the impression that I’m not?”

Victoria let out a put-upon sigh, but expanded on it. “Yes, of course, all people our age are a bit insecure. It comes with the high school experience. But you’re still… yourself. You don’t let other people determine your image. Or… who you spend time with. Kate’s the same way. And you’re fucking brave too, Scott, and don’t even deny that part. Or else you’d never have stood up to me. Or saved… saved Kate.” Victoria swallowed and shook her head. “I could never be like you are. And that pissed me off. That’s the long and the short of it.”

Brooke was learning more about Victoria this morning than she thought she’d ever want to. It really had her on the back foot. “... Mkay. Well. It seems like you’ve done some, uh… thinking.” After that lame start, she sighed at herself and tried again. “I believe you’re being genuine. I believe you’re actually sorry. I don’t forgive you exactly–” Victoria’s jaw tightened – “... but I accept your apology. Kate probably will too if you’re brave enough to try.”

Victoria picked up the insinuation of the last statement – it was a challenge to put her money where her mouth was and try to be a little more like she thought Brooke was, if she cared so much about it. To her credit, the blonde nodded slowly.

“I’ll get to work on that right now,” promised Victoria, and for the first time, Brooke thought she might actually be able to stand her. After just a few steps on her way out, Victoria paused and turned.

“Vacuous,” Victoria said.

“Come again?”

“Vapid doesn’t mean what you think it means,” the Queen Bitch of Blackwell went on matter-of-factly, like she was just letting Brooke know her shoes were untied. “Vapid means dull and lifeless. Vacuous means empty and facile, which I assume is what you actually meant.” Then with a small nod, she continued walking and was gone.

Once a slightly flummoxed Brooke made it back to her room, she again accessed the server which once hosted that video, and simply took it down entirely to resign the message about Victoria to oblivion, misused vocabulary terms and all. Maybe Ms. Grant was right. It was time to end that cycle.

Ten hours of sleep had not been enough to prepare Brooke for that encounter with Victoria. It also meant that by the time she was up and about, it was already noon. Having shot an email off to her teachers to ask for an excusal for the day – something they were fine with granting, considering what she’d just gone through – she had the time for herself.

Once her brains had recovered from the scrambling effects of Victoria Chase trying to be nice, Brooke took the time to update the slate outside of her room. A couple of the others in the hall already sported supportive messages for Kate, something which she was only too happy to join in on. After briefly considering ‘We’ll wait for Kate’, Brooke decided to do something her friend would find a little more meaningful. She pulled out her phone for consultation as she slowly wrote the unfamiliar words:

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. – 1 Corinthians 13:6-7

Satisfied, she went to check Max’s room, but found her absent. That investigation sure has her running around a lot, she thought with a trace of disappointment. She’d been hoping to get that explanation she was owed, but it seemed it would have to wait. Shaking her head, she exited the dorm and emerged into a pleasantly sunny Wednesday afternoon.

Despite the benign weather, not all was well, as Brooke discovered when she passed by the art room windows of the school, and noticed a handful of small shapes lying in the grass. “Oh shit,” she mumbled as she knelt down and inspected them. She wasn’t an expert at bird identification, but they were clearly all the same species, a small gray bird with a rufous underside. She supposed, after thinking for a moment, that they must be phoebes. It hurt her heart a little to see their little broken bodies which never again would fly. They must have been migrating and gotten disoriented, leading them straight into the window.

So she assumed until she turned away to keep walking, only to quickly find another bird lying still under a nearby tree. In fact, as she discovered along her walk, it seemed like birds were dying all over Blackwell’s campus. Brooke felt a shiver race up her spine as she took stock of this fact. Now that was ominous. 

Though she searched the ground and sky alike, there was no sign of any eagles. I guess you have to be flesh and blood in the first place to die, she thought reluctantly. Her scientific materialism was starting to wear a bit thin as the events of this week wore on; after the disappearing act her animal guide pulled yesterday, and with Chloe having confirmed the bird’s existence, it was a little hard for her perspective not to begin shifting a little.

As it shifted, she was forced to wonder. These birds were most likely dying off because of the extreme irregularities in the weather this week. Possibly the eclipse yesterday had disoriented them, too. But was all of this somehow connected with her animal guide? It had first appeared the same day she met Kate, which seemed fateful in hindsight. So much had changed since that day, and in the grand scheme, it was only a few weeks before the borderline apocalyptic omens now bearing down on the Bay.

If Brooke didn’t have classes to worry about, maybe she’d think about convincing her mom to hit the road and go to a more normal town. But then again, maybe not. She wasn’t some dumb, panicky animal. She was a woman of science. What she really needed was, as usual: more data.

“Creepy, huh?” came a familiar voice from behind her.

Brooke turned away from the scene to look at Warren, who gave a slightly sheepish smile and a wave. She took a second to return it. “Yeah. I assume you got a load of that impossible eclipse last night.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone did,” he said as he came a little closer to stand beside her. His black eye from Monday was still plainly visible, and on top of that Brooke thought he looked more tired and withdrawn than usual.

He seemed to notice her pensive silence and greeted it with the same. When the silence broke, it was done by both of them talking over each other at the same time and saying: “Sorry–”

They blinked at each other, before Warren gave Brooke a small wave to indicate she should go first.

“... I’m sorry I snapped at you, dude,” she told him. “I could definitely have handled that better.”

“It’s fine, Brooke. I put you in a really crummy spot. It was lame of me all around. I hope I can make it up to you.”

“Water under the bridge,” Brooke promised, reaching out and patting him on the arm. She watched the tension go out of him a bit and considered that particular friendship saved. “But you owe me some power leveling for my druid, Killergrams,” she added with an evil little smile.

“That’s fair.” Warren laughed, then sobered a little as he gazed at one of the dead birds on the lawn again. “Something seriously crazy is going on.”

“Major understatement. I think our ancestors would be making sacrifices to appease the gods at this point.” Brooke rubbed her arms. “I’m kind of getting the creeps, Warren. I checked the news from Portland this morning, no snow or supposed eclipses there. They were saying it was some kind of mass hallucination confined to our area, but…”

“But that’s obvious BS,” he said, frowning. “I felt the temperature drop from that eclipse. It was no mirage.”

“Arcadia Bay’s a small town. They probably think we’re just a bunch of yokels out here. But you and I, my friend, know better.”

“So in other words we should get to work proving them wrong?” Warren ventured with a small grin.

Brooke returned it. “I know for a fact people have been recording all this on their phones. Let’s ask around and compile what we can. Get some data from the weather station down the road, too. We’ll figure out what’s going on.”

“Sounds like a plan. Reconvene on the weekend maybe? We can hang out, too.”

An offer to reset and go back to how things were? Brooke smiled softly. “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday, October 9th 2013 – Part Two [ Kate ]

On a branch outside the window, its leaves beginning to burn orange, a little bird found its perch and whistled emotively, rising and falling. Through the glass and under the hypnotic hum of the hospital’s air conditioning, Kate couldn’t hear it too well. But she did appreciate the small splash of color in this dreary space, drank in the sight of it, and committed its cloudy gray and burnt brown to the page as a scratchy sketch. Once it was gone, she went back to drawing human faces.

There was not a whole lot else for Kate to do while she was stuck in the hospital. They had some books to borrow, and she had already been around to say hello to the other patients in the ward, but otherwise she’d only enjoyed a whole lot of sitting around in a sterile environment. The pencils she’d borrowed, some colored and some not, were offering some much-needed enrichment.

The faces of her friends from Blackwell, all done from memory, did help her feel a little less lonely. Each feature translated well to the page, some with more ease than others. Warren’s friendly smile. Max’s freckles. Alyssa’s stormy, contemplative frown. Brooke’s hair style, which was hard to get just right. Brooke’s smile, impish and small, as if reluctant to show itself, but memorable just the same. Brooke’s distant look when she was thinking hard about something…

Kate started to realize after filling most of a page that she was perhaps dedicating a bit more page space to certain people than others. She guessed she couldn’t help it. It was hard not to think about Brooke, after everything that had happened.

Her eyes drifted from the page as she spent a moment far away in thought. The distance between now and the minutes where she was on the roof grew, moment by moment, each second feeling like a mile. It was only yesterday, but it was already so easy to feel like it was a different girl entirely who had threatened to jump.

She would like to believe that it was. But she knew, deep down: that girl was never going to go away. She’d had a long conversation with a very nice doctor the previous night who explained to her that the moods Kate had always had weren’t her fault; that while the causes of depression were not yet fully understood, it was possible that it was a combination of genetic factors and her formative experiences; that she was simply predisposed to depressive moods, and that she could and would lead a healthy, happy life despite it. She would just need to be patient with herself, and know to seek help when she needed it.

It was all a little overwhelming. It had never occurred to Kate before that what she experienced could warrant a clinical diagnosis. And while it made her uncomfortable at first, she accepted quickly that it was for the best she knew what to expect going forward. Her doctor had not recommended antidepressants because of the infrequency of her depressive episodes as well as her age, but had assured her that she would have no trouble getting a prescription if she wanted it in the future.

Still, for all that she understood better now, it was terrifying how close she had gotten to the edge. Distance couldn’t dull her memory of how it felt to be so lost in despair. To feel like nobody had been in her corner.

And then there was Brooke. There she was at just the right moment, speaking words that made Kate feel so alive again, and showing just how much she cared. Kate knew there were so many ways that situation could have gone wrong. But no matter how she had pushed Brooke away over the previous few days, Brooke had still come running to help her.

It made her heart feel so very full. She hoped she would see Brooke again soon, and she could let her know just how much she appreciated it. Brooke had promised she’d visit, and Kate had faith that she would. She would just stay patient until then.

A knock on the doorframe stole her from her contemplations, and when she looked up, she saw an orderly standing there. “Miss Marsh? There’s a Miss Dana Ward from your school here to visit.”

“Oh!” Kate put her sketchbook on the table by her chair and stood. “Send her in, please.”

And so entered Dana, almost too eagerly. She had what looked to be a somewhat overstuffed satchel on her shoulder, but before Kate could have a good look at it, Dana closed the distance with her arms outstretched. “Kate, oh my God!”

Well, nothing could stop a Dana hug once it got going, Kate reflected with amused fondness. She opened her arms for her and was soon being swept up into a tight embrace by the taller girl, who didn’t let go of her for several moments. “Hi, Dana…”

Dana finally pulled back, though her hands remained on Kate’s shoulders. Her expression looked only a little shy of anguish. “I’m so glad you’re okay…”

“And I’m happy you’re here,” she assured her friend, smiling up at her. “You’re the first one from Blackwell to make it.”

Though Kate had been trying to assure her, her words just seemed to make Dana feel more guilty. “I’m so, so sorry, Kate. I promised I’d look after you at the party, and then I couldn’t help you this week, I had so much shit going on–...”

“Dana,” Kate cut in, gentle but firm. “It’s fine. I’ve already forgiven you. How could I not? You’re one of my best friends, and you’re here now, aren’t you?”

That finally seemed to get through to her. Dana smiled and wiped the corner of her eye, leaving a small smudge in her eyeliner. “I’ve been a mess… Thanks for putting up with me.” Then she sniffed once, banishing any sign that she’d been about to cry in the process and marshaling her powers. “Right. Everyone can’t visit, obviously, but I come bearing gifts…”

“Oh, they didn’t have to do that,” Kate said with a self-conscious wince.

“They did,” Dana chimed as she opened her satchel, sinking into Kate’s abandoned chair so she could sit and unload it all. Helpless in the face of the tide of generosity, Kate just sat on the edge of her bed and watched bemused as a pile of items was produced. Dana narrated each one. “That card and these flowers were from Juliet. The teddy bear is from, ugh, Sarah… Daniel DaCosta did this really nice drawing, I think it’s a study on Caravaggio’s St. Jerome…”

Kate laughed awkwardly. “Dana… I can read the names, you know. I’ll go through them all and write thank you notes back if I can.”

“Sorry. I know I’m fussing again.” Dana surrendered, leaning back in the chair. “How are you though? Really?”

“Much better,” Kate said honestly. “I’m still kind of reeling, to be honest, and I definitely feel bad about making such a scene and scaring everybody. But things seem brighter now.”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about that, Kate. You called for help, and you got it.” Dana leaned over and spotted the open page of Kate’s sketchbook, which she picked up and inspected with a small, mischievous smile. “From someone who’s been on your mind a fair bit, it seems.”

Kate felt her cheeks heat up and held a hand out for the sketchbook. Dana obliged and passed it over. “How could I not think of her? She was incredible.”

“She was,” Dana agreed. “I never thought Brooke had it in her. But she’s gotten a bit more, uh, assertive, and sociable lately. I think your good influence might have been a part of that.” After that, Dana’s wicked grin returned in full force. “And what a dashing hero she makes when all is said and done. ‘Ah, sweet sovereign of my captive heart, I shall not fail thee’…”

“You’re being silly,” Kate sighed, her blush returning as well. She was not ready to face all the implications of the way Brooke made her feel – or any of them, to be honest – and even less ready to talk about it. Dana saw right through her, of course. But Kate couldn’t blame her for teasing; it got a reaction, and it didn’t bother Kate enough for her to tell Dana to stop. Instead, she employed a tactical change of topic. “Um, you said you had your own stuff going on too, Dana? Are you holding up okay?”

Dana came up short, rubbing the back of her neck. “As I can be. It has sort of been one overwhelming thing after another.”

Kate hesitated, before asking gently, “Last week you mentioned something about a doctor’s appointment…”

“Oh Kate,” Dana sighed and nibbled her lip before daring to speak again. “You figured it out, huh…? I hope you won’t think less of me, I just…”

“I won’t, Dana. Not ever. And even though I don’t–... mm. I know that couldn’t have been… easy. I trust you to make the right decisions for yourself. I truly do.” She smiled, hoping to reassure her friend in the face of the turmoil she’d privately been going through.

A little tension went out of Dana, who smiled weakly at her in return. “... Trevor has been a gem through it all. I never would have guessed a few weeks ago that such a laid-back guy could be so serious and supportive when he needs to be. And guess what else? We’re going official… I think me and him could really have something special.”

Kate beamed. “Trevor’s very sweet – and you’re very lucky. I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

That same orderly startled them both by returning. “Miss Marsh, your parents are here.”

Gosh, she was glad they didn’t show up thirty seconds earlier. Dana looked abashed, standing and retrieving her now empty satchel. “It was so good to see you Kate. Do you need me to get you anything from Blackwell?”

“Just grab a few books from my room, any will do… And if you could, can you remind everyone that I can’t have my cell phone with me here? I don’t want anyone to think I’m blowing them off. Oh! And has Alice been looked after?”

“Yes, Max and Brooke have both been feeding her and cleaning up, don’t worry.” Dana flashed a smile, leaning in for one more quick hug. As she did, footsteps could be heard at the door, and both girls looked up.

It felt like ages since Kate had seen her parents, but their faces were a welcome sign of familiarity. Her father had a kindly face, but looked like he’d been losing sleep. His hair was a darker blond similar to Kate’s own, going gray at the temples and starting to gracefully recede. His glasses were the same as usual, but he was a bit underdressed compared to his customary manner.

Her mother looked worse, like she’d been crying. Her hair was darker than Kate’s or her sisters’, more of a honey brown, but she shared Kate’s delicate nose and eyebrows. In fact, Kate had always closely resembled her mother, as had been pointed out to her constantly as she grew up. It was a bit uncanny seeing her this way – it reminded Kate of how she’d looked in the mirror recently. Still, her mother smiled tiredly when she saw her.

“Mom. Pop.” Kate sighed happily, then just to head them off before the inevitable hugging and weeping commenced, patted Dana’s shoulder and gestured to her. “This is Dana Ward, one of my friends from Blackwell. She’s been a huge help to me.”

“Oh?” Her father smiled as he met Dana’s eyes. “Well, Miss Ward, we haven’t met any of Kate’s  Blackwell friends yet, but it’s nice to finally have the chance. I’m Richard, and this is Carolann. Thank you for being here for our daughter.”

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” Dana said with a warm smile, coming forward to shake their hands. “You raised an amazing young woman.”

Kate’s mom had looked a little wary at first, but her expression thawed a little when Dana said that. “And we count our blessings every day. Thank you, Dana.”

“I was just on my way back to school,” Dana excused herself with a final wave, then cleared out of the room to make way for Kate’s parents.

Well, Kate thought as she saw the tentative gazes of her parents turning her way, it was best to hash this thing out from a position of comfort. Going to sit on the edge of her bed again, she patted the spots to either side of her. Her parents obliged, and as expected, Kate was immediately swaddled in a hug from both ends. She lifted her arms feebly to return it, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she let herself be surrounded in their love. Their words ran over one another like water as their feelings poured out.

“Katie, I’m so glad you’re not hurt–”

“We were so scared, I don’t know what I would do if–!”

“I’m here,” Kate assured them. “I’m here.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes clear as she got some space back again, though each of them left a hand on her back for support. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Don’t be,” her father assured, his voice soft and vulnerable. “We’re sorry for not doing more to support you through this. You’re so precious to us, Katie, and I hope you know that…”

“And you to me,” she said, trying to smile again. “Did Dr. Caldwell already talk to you?”

“He did,” her father confirmed, eyes a little misty, thoughtful as he recalled the conversation. “We had no idea. If we had, we would have gotten you help sooner…”

“It’s in the past,” Kate said with a small shake of her head. “Things are different now. I can’t promise I’ll never feel that way again, but… I do promise to do a better job letting others be there for me.”

“To think that I said what I said, all while none of it was your fault…” Her mother wiped at her eye with her hand. She was not holding up as well as Kate’s father was. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, honey. I was an arrogant fool.”

And though the words made Kate squirm in vague discomfort, not all of which she could place, she nodded steadily. “Of course, Mom. I love you…”

That seemed to reassure her mom, who recovered a bit. “Now that we do know, we can get you the help you need. It’ll be easier with you back home, while the authorities look into how this happened to begin with. That place just isn’t safe...”

Kate froze. Seriously? This again? Admittedly, she had wondered, at her lowest, if her mother was right about Blackwell. But with her friends’ faces still fresh in her mind, the very idea made her heartsick. “Mom… I’m not leaving Blackwell. As soon as I’m back to a hundred percent again, I’m going back.”

She blinked at Kate like she’d just started speaking another language. “Kate, you can’t be serious! After what those people did to you?”

“But it wasn’t ‘those people’,” Kate protested. “A few people hurt me, and a few more just stayed silent. But many others were kind, too. I just couldn’t see it. Mother, most of the students at Blackwell are lovely, and wonderful, and creative – nothing like those horror stories. They are my friends. I won’t turn my back on them just because of some bad apples.”

“They would turn on you. So many friends in this world are false ones. If you don’t stay alert, they could hurt you again so easily. ‘Your enemy the devil prowls around like a lion, looking for someone to devour.’”

Kate was unimpressed with her mother quoting Epistles at her, and countered with her own. “‘For the whole Law is fulfilled in one word, in the statement: you shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ And I do. I love them all, even the ones who haven’t loved me.”

“Katherine…”

But before her mom could get started again, her dad, who had been quietly letting them sort it out between themselves, spoke up wearily. “Carolann, dear, let her rest. Besides which, it is Kate’s decision at the end of the day. She’s an adult now and we must trust her to know what’s best.”

Kate smiled at her dad appreciatively, while her mom looked away, frustrated. “You’ve grown to be so willful,” her mother muttered, before sighing. “Fine. Today’s not the right day for that talk…”

Kate shook her head. “I know it must be scary for you two, for me to go back there after everything that’s happened. But next time will be different. Dana, Brooke, Max, and all my other friends will be watching out for me.”

“Speaking of whom,” her father said with a smile, “we owe that girl, Brooke, a great deal. You should invite her over for dinner sometime.”

Kate turned her head, and was a little surprised to see her mom nodding in quiet agreement. But her eyes were destined for her sketchbook, laying closed not so far away. Kate smiled fondly. “I will.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday, October 9th 2013 – Part Three [ Brooke ]

In the hours since Brooke’s chat with Warren, she had continued to prove quite popular, much to her dismay. The inevitable call from her mom hadn’t been so bad; mostly she was just proud of what Brooke had accomplished and worried about how she was doing after the somewhat traumatizing situation she’d been through. Brooke had assured her she was fine, but promised to follow up with her mom about it later. And a follow-up chat with Ms. Grant about her drone had also been promising. It seemed the credit she had earned by saving the day was enough to make the science teacher reconsider the issue, and Brooke would be able to resume flights as soon as tomorrow.

But by the fourth time a student stopped her to talk about what happened and say how inspirational it all was, Brooke was convinced that the life of a school hero was distinctly not for her. The attention made her somewhat uncomfortable, and it still made her sick to her stomach how Blackwell’s student body had done such a 180. They had done so little for Kate when she was suffering, but acted entitled to, what, some sort of emotional catharsis now that she’d been saved? Where had they been when Kate was crying alone in her room?

Brooke thumped her fist against the grass in frustration as she thought about it. The lawn she was laying on outside of Blackwell didn’t yield any clarity, and neither did the leaves of the tree she was under. The sunlight peeked through the boughs in flickers of gold, which parted around Brooke’s fingers as she lifted her hand to keep it out of her eyes. It was doing a bit to soothe her bad mood. Maybe she’d been a cat in a past life, and that was why sitting in a sunbeam was so therapeutic for her.

The flicker of motion at the corner of her vision was, however, not very therapeutic, or indeed very reassuring at all. She focused on it only long enough to see that it was a familiar-looking wing passing overhead. Damned bird, she thought for the hundredth time, following its path with her gaze. But though it had vanished as soon as it arrived, its flight did cause Brooke to spot a familiar pickup truck sitting on the street nearby, with an equally familiar blue-haired figure sitting behind the wheel.

“Finally,” Brooke mumbled to herself as she picked herself up, adjusting her glasses and shaking a couple of strands of grass out of her ponytail. She really should just get a haircut if she was going to keep moping around on the lawn like that; the tail was a bit of a debris magnet. Would she even look good with shorter hair? A question for another time. She put it out of mind and strolled over to the truck.

Chloe had been checking her phone, so she only looked up and noticed Brooke when she was coming to the window. Chloe rolled it down and flashed a big grin at her. “Well hey, space cadet. It feels like I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s been, like, a week, right?”

“It feels a hell of a lot longer,” Brooke said weakly.

“Preach, sista.”

Trying not to roll her eyes at the other girl’s manner of speaking, Brooke just went on. “Right. Hi, Chloe. Good to see you again.”

“So you do know my name? I was getting worried I’d slipped through the cracks of your mind.” There was a keenly searching glint in Chloe’s eye, but on her face she just wore a sly grin at Brooke’s expense.

Brooke blushed and averted her eyes. “Please don’t make a huge thing out of that. I feel bad about forgetting.”

“Hey, no hard feelings. It’s not like we were ever tight before. Oh,” she smiled brightly, “Max told me about Kate. Sorry you had to deal with that, but big ups to you for doing the right thing and helping her out.”

Brooke accepted that with a small nod, a bit meek. At least Chloe’s congratulations were genuine. “Thanks.” Then she met Chloe’s eye again. “I was supposed to talk with Max about some stuff. Have you seen her?”

Chloe made a bit of a face. “She was out running errands with me all morning. We uh. Took a break, but I’m here to pick her up again.” She turned her head and gazed off at something in the middle distance. “Oh. Here she is.”

Brooke turned her head to follow Chloe’s line of sight, and found Max timidly approaching. Had she been crying? She looked a little red around the eyes.

“Hey Brooke,” Max greeted as she came to a stop, leaning her elbows on the hood of the truck, then passed her gaze in the direction of Chloe, who was leaning halfway out the driver’s side window. “...  Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Chloe answered.

Brooke was sensing some tension here. She looked between the two as they stared awkwardly at each other, before Brooke’s small cough brought them back. “So, I don’t know if this is a bad time, but you said you’d let me in on the investigation. About Prescott, and Kate, and… Rachel?”

The Wonder Duo traded looks again and were silent for a very long moment. They really must have been close; it was like they were communicating telepathically somehow, and leaving Brooke in the dark in the process. She folded her arms impatiently until Chloe looked back at her.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, sounding more than a little skeptical. “This whole sitch is a bit… intense.”

They thought she couldn’t handle it. That stung a little. She clenched her fist at her side and shook her head. “I already watched my best friend almost kill herself because of what Prescott did. I want to find out what’s really going on in this town. I don’t care how bad it gets.”

“I believe you on that, Brooke,” Max said, placating. “Seriously. I feel the same way. We’re just worried about getting you in trouble, you know? You have a chance to get away from all this and let things go back to normal. Not get all wrapped up in it, like we are…”

Brooke nodded, but didn’t surrender. “I am already, though. Prescott hates me, and it’s only a matter of time before his daddy decides to sue me for helping to get him suspended. Not that I’m scared or anything, but there’s no normal for me. Not anymore. Not until those assholes go down and Kate is safe.”

“You make a compelling case,” Chloe admitted. She was smiling faintly, looking more searchingly at Brooke than before. “Alright, you have my vote.”

“And mine,” Max tacked on after a second, letting out a breath and giving Brooke a small, tired smile. “Sorry for being flaky, Brooke. I trust you to help us out with this.” She took a glance around. “Let’s talk about it somewhere else, though.”

Brooke’s shoulders sagged a little with relief. She honestly thought she was going to need to fight harder for that. As it is, she nodded in agreement with Max.

“Yup,” chirped Chloe, leaning back into the truck to pop open the passenger door. “Let’s go for a drive. Come aboard the USS Bane of Arcadia, space cadet. Sorry, you get the bitch seat, since… you’re a redshirt.”

Brooke rolled her eyes and took the invitation, followed by a giggling Max as she went to the passenger door. There she paused a second, boggling with vague horror at the cabin interior. “What a piece of junk!”

“She’s got it where it counts, kid,” Chloe fired back, sticking her tongue out. She swept a couple of crumpled-up receipts off of Brooke’s seat, allowing her to reluctantly climb in and get a feel for the middle spot. Max took the passenger seat and buckled up.

Once inside, Brooke warily surveyed the truck, from the Illuminati sticker behind her head to the Elvis bobblehead on the dashboard. It smelled of weed and tobacco. Yup, this was more or less what she’d expected. Just perhaps a fraction grodier. She held on as Chloe turned on the engine and pulled them away from the school, letting the truck begin its rattling way around town.

“So what exactly do you know about already?” Chloe asked.

Brooke composed her thoughts. “I only really know about the stuff relating to Kate’s situation. I’m ninety-nine percent sure Nathan drugged her at last week’s party and definitely didn’t take her to the hospital. Max speculated that he had something to do with Rachel disappearing. And she mentioned that he drugged you, too...”

Chloe passed a sharp look at Max, who glanced away. Brooke decided to speak up again to defuse the situation.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Chloe. That must have been really scary.”

The fight went out of the punk girl at that, and she nodded slightly. “Thanks, but don’t worry about me. I’m worried about finding Rachel, and kicking Prescott’s bitch ass. So – sounds like we have a lot of work to do filling in the gaps for you. Buckle up. Metaphorically, since… that seat doesn’t have one.”

And so they did. As the truck rattled across Arcadia Bay, Brooke learned what Chloe could tell her about the time period just before Rachel’s disappearance (hard for Chloe to talk about, clearly, but Brooke was grateful she took the time anyway). She was given some more context for the bathroom incident and the confrontation in the parking lot, and given a quick rundown of various encounters with Madsen, Nathan, and apparently that drug dealer, Frank Bowers. Finally, she got a decent explanation of that midnight break-in, as well as the contents of the files they found.

It was a lot to take in. Brooke furrowed her brow when the deluge of information was at an end. “Okay so–” she grit her teeth and took hold of an arm on each girl when they hit a pothole which felt like it was going to send her flying. At their muted laughter in response to her reaction, she just gave them both the stink eye. “Did you end up using that explosive or not? Because I think I would’ve heard alarms going off last night, even if I was zonked out.”

It didn’t escape Brooke’s notice that Max and Chloe shared a somewhat worried, fleeting glance. They were definitely hiding something.

“Uh, we didn’t end up needing it,” Chloe explained. “Thanks anyway, it’s not every friend who’d text instructions for a pipe bomb with barely any questions asked. Heh.”

“Right,” Brooke answered, hoping her expression communicated just how fishy she thought that was. The beachfront passed by outside, and Brooke watched the waves beat against the distant rocks in the bay while she talked. “That aside, it kind of seems like you guys get snuck up on a lot. Especially when you start goofing off, like with the pool, or the gun in the junkyard. That drug dealer could have really kicked your asses.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Max mumbled, chagrined.

“So?” Chloe pressed.

“So it sounds to me like you could benefit from adding a lookout to your little team. Namely, me. Let me do air surveillance with my drone whenever you’re poking around, so someone is watching your backs. It could really save your asses.”

“That,” Chloe said, sticking up a finger like she was about to argue, “is fair.” She dropped it again. “Unsparing with your criticism, huh? You can call us weaksauce bitches if you’d like. We can take it.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “It is genuinely impressive what you’ve found so far. Two teenage girls making the ABPD look like a joke, digging up dirt and finding hidden files? It’s like something out of a movie.”

“Three now,” Max corrected with a small smile. “I think it’s a really good idea, Brooke. Your drone’s got a powerful lens on it. Can it get above the trees and buildings around here just fine?”

“Easily. Though, uh, let’s avoid getting caught in any cluttered areas where it’s easy to get ambushed, alright?”

“That’s easier said than done,” Chloe said with a rueful laugh. “We’ve almost never searched anywhere else.”

Brooke grimaced. She was going to choose to accept that gracefully and move on. “... So what’s next?”

“We need some more information out of both Nathan and Frank,” Max said, her mien serious. “But we need to put what we’ve learned together to help narrow our next steps down a bit. Me and Chloe are going to head back to her place so we can get one of those conspiracy boards put together, you know, with the string?” She flashed a small smile. “Also just hang out a bit, maybe have a sleepover. Want to join us?”

Glancing at Chloe as well and noticing her small nod of approval, Brooke considered it carefully. “You know, I do have classes to worry about tomorrow. And you do too, Max.”

“I didn’t actually go to any of mine today,” Max admitted, then giggled, glancing past Brooke’s head at Chloe. Brooke whipped her head around and squinted when she found Chloe making ‘ew, school’ faces behind her back. The punk girl feigned innocence as soon as Brooke’s eyes were on her. Max just continued. “And to be honest, I don’t feel like dealing with any of it until after we sort out this mess.”

Brooke blinked once, thought, and then asked, “Okay, but what about Chloe’s stepcop? You’re not worried about him?” And wasn’t it still a trip and a half that Madsen was apparently Chloe’s stepfather, of all people? Everyone in this town really was connected somehow.

“Nah, my mom kicked him out of the house earlier,” Chloe reported with a big grin. “We let her know about all the creepy spy shit he’s been doing to students – and us. We’re in the clear for now.”

Well, it seemed like she had run out of good excuses. Brooke finally assented with a small nod. “Fine. Just swing us back by Blackwell again so I can grab some stuff…”

Almost before Brooke was through speaking, both of her would-be comrades pumped their fists in the air and chorused: “Woo! Sleepover!”

What the hell am I getting myself into? Brooke wished she knew.

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 10th 2013 – Part One [ Brooke ]

Brooke learned quickly that if there was one thing a socially maladapted loner should never, ever do, it was face the terrible twosome that was Max Caulfield and Chloe Price. Individually, she found both somewhat easy to manage. Together, they were a force of nature.

Getting situated at Chloe’s place, in itself at least, was a mostly painless process. Brooke made sure to put her best foot forward in seeming like a normal person when introducing herself to Chloe’s mom. (The head waitress from the Two Whales Diner, was everything in this stupid town connected?)

Afterward, she got several minutes of entertainment out of just exploring the modern art installation that was Chloe’s room. She paused for a second during this inspection to lean up and tap on a piece of graffiti on the wall, where it sat just above a poster for something called ‘Tender Loin’. “Hole to another universe? Would be a killer way to escape this dump of a town and never come back. If only wormholes were real.”

Chloe looked over from where she had just sat down on her bed to kick her shoes off, a strained grin tugging at her face. “Yes, Brooke, that was in fact the idea…”

So Brooke was off to a great start, basically.

It didn’t take Brooke long to discover her new friends’ tendency to veer from one extreme to another, and it drove her crazy. Any attempt to get into a serious groove with putting everything they’d learned on a board (actually just a door Chloe ripped off of something) was interrupted frequently by jokes and dicking around on her partners’ part. Brooke did her level best not to let it get her all salty again. Was it too much to ask for some focus?

She had barely started to get up in arms about it when the work concluded. The sum total of pieces they had was actually fairly thin at the moment, and there were some obvious gaps which Max and Chloe had spotted just as easily as Brooke. Clearly they would need to establish a time frame for Nathan’s drug purchases, something which would have to wait until the next day.

Brooke found herself slightly exasperated by this realization. That’s it? She was sure they would be at this for hours, dedicated to the serious work of taking Prescott down. Instead it was a blip followed shortly thereafter by an actual sleepover.

When was the last time Brooke had actually had a sleepover? She had to think about it. Not since middle school at the very least. She had kind of forgotten what went into this sort of thing. As it happened, the first order of business was “getting to know you” chatter. Brooke guessed that made sense. If they were going to be committing petty crimes and misdemeanors with each other to catch a kidnapper, it was best to build that kind of trust.

Perhaps inevitably, this led to Chloe asking questions about her family, and when the topic of her dad came up, Brooke couldn’t say much else except, “Oh, uh, he died? When I was younger.”

Chloe winced. “Shit, dude. I’m sorry. Uh… mine too.”

Oh good, they were both bad at this. Brooke felt slightly better.

With the initial awkwardness out of the way and their backstories fully synced up, matters turned to casual activities to dispel the memories and pass the time. Chloe’s old GameCube came out of a box in the closet, and for the first time, Brooke suspected that she might have some fun.

The same could not be said for Chloe, who quickly had her aura of Soul Calibur invincibility shattered. “Dude, what the fuck? How are you doing that?”

“What, blocking consistently? It comes from years of practice, ‘dude’.”

“Bullshit, nobody sees every hit coming.”

“Who exactly have you played with?” Brooke asked, skeptical.

Max raised her hand meekly from where she watched on the sidelines.

“Max, would you consider yourself good at fighting games?” Brooke quizzed her, while knocking the shit out of Cervantes with Sophitia’s Starlight Blade.

“Nope,” Max admitted with a small, abashed grin.

“Traitor,” Chloe grumbled, resigning herself to inevitable defeat.

Once gaming got old and it grew dark outside, Chloe, having brought her turncoat first mate to heel, struck back by bringing out her DVD of The Goonies.

“Do we have to?” pleaded Brooke.

“If you’re gonna roll with us, you’re going to have to appreciate the classics,” Chloe intoned solemnly.

“And understand that pirates are definitely still cool,” added Max.

“Learn to hoist the sails!”

“Or else get keelhauled!”

“Arrr!” they chorused joyously.

“Oh God,” said Brooke.

The worst part was, the movie wasn’t even bad. Was she becoming one of them?

“Pop quiz time, Brooke,” Chloe chimed when it was done. “Stef has baby lesbian energy, right?”

“Huh?” She’d been too busy thinking how much the rocks offshore in the movie reminded her of the ones near Arcadia Bay. “I guess? Yeah. I can definitely see it. She and Andy were awfully close…”

“Interesting,” Chloe said, but would not explain why.

The moment passed, and things began to wind down. After spending a couple of hours casually watching TV with Doritos and Sprite in hand, Max began to nod off. Chloe wasn’t too far behind her.

With those two on the bed and Brooke in a sleeping bag on the floor, she stared at the ceiling as she gradually began to slip out of wakefulness.

All things considered, her first sleepover in ages hadn’t been so bad. She relished the half-awake state as long as she could, basking in the feeling of belonging, trying to make today last. After all, tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Early the next morning, something strange happened. Brooke was in the bathroom across the hall, brushing her teeth, when she heard a commotion back in Chloe’s bedroom. Poking her head out, she overheard Max exclaiming:

“Oh my God, Chloe! It’s you! You’re back…”

Followed by a somewhat abashed reply from the punk girl in question. “Whoa! Down, Max! One little kiss and suddenly you’re all over me…”

What.

Wandering back over, Brooke hesitated outside the bedroom door as she called, “Uh, everything good in there?”

“Fine, I think?” came Chloe’s voice, which Brooke took as permission to look inside. She found Max looking teary-eyed again, her arms loosely draped around Chloe. She was staring at Brooke with what seemed like disbelief.

“Brooke!”

“... Me. Yeah?” Her eyes tracked left and right, wondering whether this was a prank or a psychotic break.

“Nothing. Just… I’m glad you’re here.” Max smiled tearfully, and Brooke returned it despite feeling very awkward.

“Would’ve thought you got enough of me last night, but hey, thanks for the positive review.”

Max looked momentarily confused – like she’d somehow forgotten that whole sleepover – but was interrupted by Chloe pushing her off of herself so that she could stand up.

“Right,” Chloe announced, “I think some breakfast would get us all grounded in the nice, comforting world of reality again. Let’s do that.”

Max nodded, pulling herself together. “Yeah… Then maybe it’s time to go see how Kate’s doing.”

Brooke froze a second. The reminder of her friend alone in the hospital, like a splash of ice water, took her full attention away from whatever Max’s malfunction was. Finally, she nodded, resolute. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

An hour later, the trio were walking down a hallway cast in fluorescent light, each coping in their own way with the uncomfortable sensations that came from being inside a hospital.

Brooke was risk-averse for her own part and had never gotten very sick, so the experience was a novel one for her. She moved along with her hands in her pockets, feeling a bit unsteady as she scanned the rooms they passed. Being around so many sick and injured people made her feel almost guilty that she was walking through their halls, hale where they could not be, like some kind of cruel reminder.

Somewhere among all these patients – in a room just a short distance ahead in fact – there was one who was her friend.

She hoped that two days in the hospital had been kind to Kate. Not much else had been.

As the three stopped outside Kate’s room, Max turned and looked between the others. “Were you planning to come in too, Chloe?”

“I wasn’t, but now that I think of it, it might be nice to give moral support in person.” Chloe rubbed the back of her head. “I figure I owe her that much after bitching you out for answering her call the other day…”

Max smiled tolerantly at Chloe and took her hand, leaving Brooke to ask: “You don’t want me going in at the same time?”

“Oh,” Max blinked. “It’s not that. I just figured you might like a chance to talk to Kate in private without us hanging over your shoulder. You know?”

Brooke searched for any hint of deception in Max’s guileless smile, but could not find any. There were, of course, no prizes for discerning the smug look on Chloe’s face, since she couldn’t hide an expression to save her life; Brooke squinted at her and let it go, not wanting to know what deranged shipping fantasies she was cooking up.

“Fair. I’ll wait out here, then.”

So she did, leaning on the wall of the hallway outside, barely able to hear voices within. The AC droned with a brassy hum, punctuated only by the sound of the occasional orderly coming and going through the ward, or the sharp cough of a patient down the hall. All the while, Brooke stewed, and wondered if Kate would actually be happy to see her.

After what felt like forever, Max and Chloe emerged together, seeming to be in good spirits. “She’s all yours, space cadet,” Chloe said, reaching to pat Brooke’s shoulder as she passed.

“Are you just going to be calling me that from now on?” she asked her.

“It’s best to just accept it,” Max told Brooke. “You should hear some of the stupid nicknames she gives me.”

“C’mon, Maximus,” Chloe interrupted, sticking her tongue out defiantly. “Let’s go have a chat while Brooke and Kate catch up. Find us in the lobby when you’re done.”

With that, the two were gone, and Brooke steadied herself with a breath, a fist clenching and unclenching. Then with feigned confidence, she turned the corner and stepped into Kate’s room.

The difference was like night and day. The sterile fluorescence of outside gave way to bright yellow sunshine spilling past parted curtains. On the side table and against the wall by the bed, several balloons, stuffed animals, and countless cards and candies spangled the space, a confusing riot of color.

Then there was Kate. The sunlight and the gifts were nothing next to her. Just her presence – gone from Brooke’s life for just two days, but it felt so much longer – filled the room with more light and color than anything else.

She was here. She was alive. And what’s more, she was smiling at Brooke, looking happier than she’d seen her in weeks, and sitting in a chair near the window.

“Brooke,” Kate greeted, breathless, her voice lilting upward in something caught between a statement and a question.

“Hey, Kate,” Brooke answered, hesitating a half second before starting to walk forward. She couldn’t say which of them initiated the hug; just that, within a moment, they had fallen into each other’s arms.

“I’m so fucking glad that you’re okay,” Brooke all but sobbed into her friend’s hair. Kate’s survival, her continued presence in Brooke’s life, finally felt real.

Kate patted Brooke’s back, just as overwrought with emotion. “I knew you’d come…”

They parted after a second, but didn’t quite come out of contact with one another, Brooke’s hand on Kate’s upper arm, Kate’s on her wrist. It was awkward bending to look down at Kate in her chair, so Brooke knelt on the floor instead.

“How’ve you been?” Brooke asked, trying to sound casual despite staring up at Kate with wide, teary eyes. “Um… good? I hope?”

Kate beamed down at her, the sunlight haloing her hair. Not for the first time, Brooke thought she looked like an angel. Her eyes were still tired, but there was life there; she looked not at all like she did on the rooftop. “I’m keeping it together,” Kate answered, her voice soft. “Dana has kind of been doting on me. And the doctors have been helpful.”

Kate glanced across the bed, bringing Brooke’s attention to the pile of gifts from well-wishers again. “It seems like the other students at Blackwell have been anxious about me, too. Every time Dana visits, there’s just more of them.”

Brooke pursed her lips at the sight, reminded once again of her lingering resentment about the subject. Get well cards and balloons did not make up for neglect and bullying. Still, something about the sight was rather cute. Kate deserved all the gifts in the world, Brooke thought. “I just hope you don’t get carpal tunnel signing thank you cards.”

That made Kate laugh, before she said, “There’s even a card over there from Victoria.”

“Seriously?” Brooke’s head whipped back again, eyes wide.

“She’s very eloquent. I could tell she was sincere, despite it all. She’s really torn up about what happened.”

Huh, she had the balls after all, Brooke marveled, thinking back to her conversation with Victoria the morning before. It wasn’t much, in the grand scheme. But it was a start.

Shaking it off, Brooke turned to Kate with a small sigh. “You’re too forgiving, Kate.” It sounded like an admonishment, but she said it fondly regardless.

“I think there’s not enough forgiveness in the world as it is,” Kate remarked. “‘What would Jesus do?’ might be a cute slogan, but I still think it’s one worth living by. Besides, I don’t like holding grudges. It just eats you up inside.”

Thinking back to the rooftop – “ I’m starting to think you were right about God, too ” – Brooke wondered, worried really, if Kate was being genuine in what she said. An atheist Brooke still might have been, but there was still something disquieting about the idea of Kate losing her steadfast faith. She didn’t consider herself the right person to work over that topic with Kate, though, so she let it go and changed topics.

“Our classmates are as eager to have you back as I am, I guess. When do you think you’ll be out of here?”

Kate let her head cant to the side, shrugging as she looked away. “I’m not really sure yet. It could be as early as the weekend, if things all check out. They’re observing me right now to make sure there aren’t any more… attempts.”

The word revived an icy core in the pit of Brooke’s stomach. “Well, they’ll just have to keep watching. You wouldn’t. Not again.”

The other girl was silent for a second, her hazel eyes somewhere far away, before she made a meek admission. “That wasn’t the first time I’d ever thought about it, Brooke.”

Stricken, Brooke just stared at her a second, before questioning, “But you said, that one time, you weren’t sure why– why someone would do something like that.”

“I wasn’t,” Kate confirmed, her expression subdued. “I’m still not, on some level, at least. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about what it would be like. I… just didn’t want to scare you at the time. So I hid it.”

That seemed to be a trend. Brooke squeezed Kate’s hand. “Please don’t make a habit of that.”

Kate answered that with a slightly brittle smile, but nodded. “To tell you the honest truth, Brooke, from what I know of my condition now–... It’s always possible I might get in that headspace again. I can work on it, but it might never… fully go away.” Hesitating a second, she stared at where Brooke’s hand laid atop hers. “I might be a difficult friend to keep. I’d understand if…”

Brooke was already shaking her head before Kate could even finish, a fierce devotion suddenly burning in her chest. “I hear what you’re saying, but I’d never… You’re not inconvenient to me, Kate. You’re my best friend. I may not be very good at making friends yet… or keeping them… but I want to try. I won’t drop you just because you’re dealing with this.”

Kate’s smile warmed. She turned her hand over so that she could squeeze Brooke’s right back, holding tight as her fingers laced through hers. “You said we’d find a way together. And I believe you.”

There was still an investigation to see to. No doubt there were more unpleasant secrets to discover. But for the moment, there was just Brooke and Kate, and a future whose shape they couldn’t see yet – but one they were eager to experience just the same.

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 10th 2013 – Part Two [ Brooke ]

Brooke saw Nathan Prescott for the last time later that morning. She was sitting on the stoop of the dormitory building that bore his family’s name, elbows propped on her knees as she tapped on her phone. Only occasionally did she look around to check for people coming up, or to glance at the scaffolding above to make sure something wasn’t about to fall on her.

When she saw a letterman jacket approaching, she snapped to attention, closing the mobile game she was playing. Nathan’s vicious glare fell upon her, his eyes narrowing as he arrived at the stairs. Despite having ample room to walk around her and into the dorms as he’d intended, he stopped, unable to pass up a chance to sneer at Brooke.

Good. Just as she predicted.

“Oh joy, it’s Scott again. The savior of Blackwell. What a joke. PC bullshit and freaks like you may be calling the shots here for now, but it won’t last; Principal Wells is going to beg us to keep his job pretty soon.”

“Good morning to you too, Nathan,” Brooke answered with false cheer. “I was hoping you’d spend your suspension working on that attitude of yours, but I guess you’ve been spending it on 4chan, huh?”

While she said that, her fingers flew across the keyboard on her phone screen, dashing off a text message.

Brooke: he’s here, i have him distracted but hurry up.

As she did, she watched Nathan’s hand clench into a fist, but though he was clearly thinking about swinging at her, he didn’t actually go for it.

“Enjoy it while you can, Scott. Once you’re sued out of fucking existence and I’m back at the school, your dumbass jokes will stop being funny real quick.”

Brooke’s phone buzzed in her hand, but aside from a momentary glance, she didn’t pay it much mind.

Max: Done in a sec, thank you so much Brooke. ^_^

“I’m not scared of you, Nathan,” Brooke said as she pocketed her phone. And she meant it. A lot had changed since their meeting the week before. “Call as many of your daddy’s lawyers as you want. I’ve covered my ass.”

“I have my own lawyer,” he gritted out, more tense than before, his nostrils flaring with anger. “I don’t need my dad to deal with shitstains like you. I don’t need anyone.”

Consider that nerve touched, Brooke thought. It was more than resentment about being called out for being a spoiled rich boy, though. Something about the way he rejected the connection to his father was more visceral than that. More personal.

Huh. Nathan Prescott hates his dad. It was the inevitable conclusion, but also an uncomfortable one. Why? Because it made him seem a little more human. Brooke didn’t want him to be human. It felt much safer to just consider him a monster.

“I wish you the best of luck with that, then,” she decided to say. “You and I both know the truth. And something tells me that you’re going down a lot sooner than I am.”

As if on cue, the doors to the dormitory opened behind her, and Max and Chloe stepped through. Max had a guarded, pensive look about her, holding her bag tight, but Chloe looked like she was already spoiling for a fight, her eyes flashing as she directed a sharp, insincere smile at Nathan.

“‘Sup, Prickscott? Go to any good parties lately?”

His hooded eyes flitted over each face one by one, and he hissed through his teeth. “You cunts are all in this together, huh? What the fuck were you doing in there? Was Scott standing watch or some shit?”

“What we’re doing is leaving,” Max said a little shortly, tugging Chloe’s sleeve to get the punk girl’s attention. Chloe clicked her tongue derisively and extended a hand to help Brooke up from where she was sitting.

Nathan just watched them as they started to move away, but soon he was shouting again. “Keep your fucking noses out of my business! Whatever you’re doing, I’m gonna find out!”

Brooke cast a glance over her shoulder. “I’m sorry your dad’s an asshole. But there are ways to stick it to him without throwing your life away, you know.”

Nathan looked stricken, his eyes widening as he stood there, stiff and motionless as a scarecrow. Brooke took her eyes off of him for the last time, and he did not follow.

“Damn, Brooke, you shut him up in a hurry.” Chloe sounded impressed, awed almost, and she left her hand on Brooke’s shoulder as they walked. But Brooke just shook her head, pensive.

“Did you find anything?”

“Yeah, a cell phone, taped behind his couch of all places.” Max patted her bag.

Brooke thought on that, possibilities already swimming through her mind. But she didn’t want to think of Nathan’s eyes on her back any longer. “Let’s just get out of here. We’ve still got a lot to do today.”

Early that afternoon, Max and Chloe were due for a very important meeting at the beach, which Brooke felt just fine excusing herself from. She didn’t think she’d contribute much of anything to a conversation with Frank Bowers except her unfamiliar face making him nervous.

A social butterfly Brooke was not, but she’d have to be stupid not to know how many of her classmates went to Bowers for something or another. Even Stella got her ADHD medication from the guy since she didn’t have any health insurance to fall back on. Not Brooke, though. The few times she’d smoked pot, she’d been content bumming it off other students, not going to the source. Bowers didn’t know her, she didn’t know him, and she was happy keeping it that way.

She stuck with what she knew best instead, sitting in the flatbed of Chloe’s truck a bit further down the beach and keeping watch. Her drone hung in the sky, more or less camouflaged among the white clouds rolling by.

With the lens turned downward, she snooped on the conversation between her friends and Bowers. She could see that the confrontation was a tense one at first, but somehow, Max managed to defuse things before Bowers and Chloe got at each other’s throats. Now they were being downright civil.

Just when had Max become such a good mediator, anyway? “Convincing speaker” was not a descriptor Brooke would have applied to Max even just a month ago. Still, maybe there was some hidden talent for it that Caulfield had locked away all this time, brought to the fore by these stressful times. Stranger things have happened.

Shaking her head, Brooke turned her drone away as she saw the three go inside the RV. There was no sign of anyone else approaching, welcome or not. Just sandy shores punctuated now and then by the bulks of dead cetaceans.

As she surveyed the beached whales, Brooke frowned. Such beautiful animals, reduced to that… Although she’d spotted their fins out in the bay once or twice, she’d never seen a beached one in all her life. Then yesterday afternoon, a whole pod had washed up, as if it was the sort of thing that just happened every day.

In light of everything else, especially the dead birds, Brooke couldn’t make herself believe it was somehow just a normal, coincidental occurrence. Something was messing up not just the weather, but Arcadia Bay’s whole ecosystem.

The news reporters in Portland continued to stubbornly refuse to remark on the strangeness of any of it. You’d think Arcadia Bay was on the other side of the planet to warrant that lack of interest, not just eighty miles away. Brooke hadn’t had time to grab weather station data like she wanted, but once things calmed down a little, she and Warren could get to the bottom of this. Solving the mystery of Arcadia Bay’s weirdass climate would definitely look good on her college applications.

She wondered what Max and Chloe made of all this happening at the same time as their investigation. Our investigation, Brooke mentally corrected. It made sense that they hadn’t mentioned too much about the weather anomalies when they were focused on finding Rachel.

Still, maybe they’ve turned up information about it in the course of their snooping around, Brooke postulated. Worth asking them about it, at least.

Her friends returned to the truck with a notepad full of code names and dates, and Brooke called her birdie back. Somehow, she’d figure the whole thing out, even if the paid meteorologists barely seemed to care. She was more than capable of doing their job for them. But her talents were needed elsewhere. At least for now.

“Alright,” said Chloe, her voice punctuated by the slap of her hand onto the ripped-off closet door. “Let’s do this thing, ladies. We have all the facts in hand that we need to crack this case wide open…”

“Hopefully,” chirped Brooke with mock-cheer from where she was lying stomach-down on Chloe’s bed, resting her elbows and idly kicking her feet.

“Hopefully,” Chloe continued in the same tone of voice as before. “And I for one am not gonna rest until we figure out exactly where that sonuvabitch has been hiding away the evidence of his crimes. Who’s with me?!”

Max, seated on the floor by the bed, as well as Brooke both gave somewhat enthusiastic cheers. The heat was on.

Brooke took up the notepad first. “All dogs,” she observed with dismay as she looked over the code names provided by Bowers. “Some guys will find one thing they like and make it their whole personality…”

Nevertheless, she found all the entries for “Rottweiler” and collated them in a spreadsheet on her laptop, dutifully whirring away beside her. Max, meanwhile, looked over the various surveillance photos taken by David Madsen to identify Nathan’s truck, at least until nature called.

“Gotta use the little girls’ room,” Max excused herself, leaving Brooke with Chloe, who by this point was restlessly leaning back in her chair at the desk. Occasionally she glanced over at Brooke, her expression unreadable.

Eventually, Brooke couldn’t handle the silence, and she spoke up. “You wish it was just you and her doing this, don’t you?”

Chloe started in place, almost toppling backward before she corrected her balance again. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a couple things,” Brooke said with a small shrug. She was trying to ignore the minute twinge of hurt that the idea made her feel. “You do kind of keep looking at me like you don’t expect me to be here.” And so did Max, for that matter, but it looked a bit different coming from her. She’d been… weird since her little fit that morning.

“It’s not like that,” Chloe said, finally letting all four of her chair’s legs hit the floor again. She sounded a bit exasperated. “Me and Max…”

“Go way back,” Brooke finished the sentence wryly, at the same time that Chloe tried to say it. The punk girl puffed her cheeks at Brooke in fake annoyance and went on.

“… So we have a lot to catch up on. There is so, so much that I want to say to her, but there just hasn’t been a good time.”

“I get it,” Brooke said, placating. “Getting in the way of your girl bromance wasn’t my intention at all, I promise. I’m seriously just here to help.”

“I wouldn’t say getting in the way,” Chloe said, before her mind caught up to her. “And it’s not a girl bromance!”

There were so many cheap shots Brooke could take, but she resisted the temptation. Chloe just kept talking, anyway.

“Besides, Brooke, you’ve been hella helpful with all this. And I do think you’re cool. So ignore my brain problems and keep using your big, scary nerd brain to untangle this. Me and Max will have time to–”

“Kiss and make up,” said Brooke, losing the war against temptation. Chloe reached over to swat at her goodnaturedly and Brooke made kissing mwa sounds with her mouth, and it was to this scene that a bemused Max returned a second later.

“It’s good you guys are getting along,” she announced, her voice cracking in the way it did when she was suppressing a laugh.

With Max returned, she and Brooke swapped tasks, with Max borrowing the laptop to cross-reference what Brooke had written down with the photos. Brooke, for her part, had a go at cracking the phone’s passcode. It didn’t take much effort on her part.

She was still pondering the text messages on it when she heard Chloe speak up from her laptop, where she and Max were staring at a photo of an old barn.

“That barn belongs to… Harry Aaron Prescott.”

“Nathan’s grandpa,” Brooke recalled, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Back in her mom’s day, she’d attended a protest against H.A. Prescott’s push to deforest more than a hundred acres outside of Arcadia Bay. (“I was a bit of a punk back then,” her mom had reminisced, without further clarification. Brooke wondered if she’d gotten arrested.)

“It sounds like we have our place,” Max said, determination coloring her tone. “Let’s get over there and find out what Nathan’s been trying to hide.”

Brooke didn’t feel nearly as confident as the three of them rolled out yet again. One of the text messages was bothering her – the one that warned Nathan not to call while the sender was working. Max had mumbled something about Nathan’s dad being a piece of work, but something didn’t line up.

After her little chat with Nathan earlier, Brooke just couldn’t see him asking his dad for help like that. Sure the dude was crazy, but he had seemed sincere about that much. No way would he be pestering his dad at work. Much less participating in any sort of family business.

A small pit of disquiet settled in her stomach. So if Sean Prescott didn’t send that text… then who did?

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 10th 2013 – Part Three [ Brooke ]

Chloe’s truck rolled through the woods, Oregon pines passing by the windows in a green blur. The bumpy dirt road threatened to buck Brooke out of her seat again, but she was starting to get used to the quirks of the truck and kept herself well-situated.

The atmosphere inside the cabin of the vehicle was a quiet and tense one, each of the three young women silent, thoughts of what they would find at the Prescott barn weighing on their minds. As was perhaps inevitable, it was Brooke who eventually broke the silence to confess a private worry of hers to the others.

“I think Nathan has an accomplice.”

The truck slowed slightly as Chloe peeked at Brooke from the corner of her eye. Max, who had been resting her cheek on a hand, looked awake again, staring at her in puzzlement.

“How do you figure that?” asked Max.

“It was that text on his phone from an unknown number. The ‘this is a business, not a hobby’ one. It sounded to me like whoever that was, they were working with Nathan on something… shady.”

Max frowned, perplexed. “I really thought that was just from his dad. That ‘I want to be proud of you’ junk is father talk. Messed up father talk, but this is Sean Prescott we’re talking about…”

“At first glance, yeah, but the text was talking about Nathan bothering the sender at work, and Nathan would never contact his dad for help. He hates the guy.”

“I guess even a broken clock’s right twice a day,” Chloe remarked dryly, her eyes on the road again. “I’ll be honest, Brooke, you barely know Nathan. Even I don’t know him like that, and I’ve tangled with him a lot. There’s a lot we don’t know about his twisted up relationship with Daddy Prescott, I’d wager.”

It could be. Brooke thought she got a pretty good read on that sitch earlier, but Chloe’s skepticism let a bit of doubt trickle in. Still, though… “There’s the timing, too. It was sent right after I ran into him in the library and he promised to hurt Kate. It was the day before he drugged her. It says ‘impress me’. I think that’s exactly what Nathan did.”

Max looked disturbed by the thought. “That almost makes it sound like Nathan was getting coached. Like this other person was his mentor. Or his surrogate father figure.”

Both Brooke and Max shivered with disgust at the thought, but Chloe rolled her eyes.

“You two are so fucking dramatic. I still don’t buy it, but it doesn’t matter how many people are involved. One, two, a thousand. By the end of the day we’ll have enough evidence to lock them up for life. Except for Nathan, who I wanna handle personally…”

“Please just promise to stay alert,” Brooke sighed. “My eye in the sky isn’t perfect.”

“I’m not going to get wigged out by hypothetical co-conspirators when we’re so close to the finish line,” Chloe answered, opening her hands against the steering wheel in a dismissive gesture. “That’s all I’m sayin’.”

It seemed that was that. The conversation came to a stop as the truck pulled up outside the dilapidated barn, the investigators piling out. Brooke fetched her drone, but didn’t send it up into the sky yet, just tucking it under her arm as she joined her friends in inspecting the exterior.

“Fresh tire tracks,” Max observed, pointing at the ground. They led from the latched barn door and back toward the dirt road they just took.

Brooke nodded as she looked them over. “They’d have to be fresh, or else that big rainstorm Tuesday would’ve muddied them up.”

“Have any supernatural insight on the type of car, space cadet?” Chloe asked.

“I wish. I’m neither a forensics expert nor a car expert. The most I can work out is that it’s just one car, but I think you could’ve told as much, too.”

“It was probably just Nathan’s pickup anyway,” Chloe remarked with a shrug, then stepped around the side of the building, seeking an entrance. Max flashed Brooke a reassuring smile before following.

For her own part, Brooke stayed put and sent her drone up. It took a minute for it to get a clear view over the tall evergreens of the surrounding area, but as it turned about, Brooke was relieved to find that there was no sign of anybody else nearby. She set the drone to hover in place, and at the same moment heard a loud thud from within the barn.

By the time that Brooke found Chloe and Max’s impromptu entrance, Max was already leaning out of it to wave her over. “Brooke! You should come see this!”

Ducking through the hole in the wall, Brooke found herself in a dusty space strewn with hay. In passing, she noticed an old trunk nearby that had been opened, but she had her attention drawn away by Chloe standing and looking at the floor in the far corner with a look of acute concentration.

As she came closer, Brook saw that there was some sort of big old motor laying next to an opened trapdoor. The three girls now stood at the top, looking down the staircase beneath it at an honest to god bunker door. There was a keypad on the wall beside it.

“I think I’ve heard of these,” Brooke muttered. “There were conspiracy theories way back about the Prescotts putting all of these so-called storm shelters in. Pretty convenient place to hide something away.”

“A little keycode isn’t going to stop us now,” Max decided, descending the steps with Chloe just behind. Brooke watched with disbelief as Max inspected the pad for a second and then entered the correct code on the first try; the door clicked and Chloe pulled it open, then looked up at Brooke.

“You coming?”

Brooke glanced at her tablet. “I’d better not. There’s no way I’d keep a signal to my drone down there. Tell you what, I’ll do what I do best and scout up here. Plus, I can call an ambulance if you guys run into some booby traps or whatever.”

“Sounds good,” Chloe called, then stepped into the brightly-lit bunker with Max.

Brooke only lingered for a second to listen for screams, before she paced away to the far wall of the barn to make sure the signal stayed good. Her drone was just where she left it, and there were no more signs of trouble now than there were before. As she leaned on the wall, she realized only belatedly that she was getting her favorite hoodie dusty as shit, sighing and trying to relax as she surveyed the surrounding wilderness.

The feel-good vibes only lasted for a couple of minutes before a shout echoed up from the bunker. Startled, Brooke began to walk over to the trapdoor, only for a panicked Chloe to all but push her aside as she charged out of the barn. Questioning, Brooke’s gaze turned toward Max, who was only a little less out of sorts than Chloe was. Max’s eyebrows were pinched together in worry, and she looked rather like she was just an inch away from crying.

“Max? What’s wrong?”

“It’s really bad down there, Brooke. Really bad.” Max’s voice was thick, a lump in her throat. She shook her head, shifting restlessly on her feet and peeking past Brooke, obviously anxious about Chloe leaving her behind. “It’s some kind of fucked up photography studio. There were binders. So many binders…”

“Binders?” Brooke repeated, a cold feeling prickling at her skin.

“There were photos of Rachel… of Kate. And others, too. Tied up and drugged out of their minds. Plus an empty one, with Victoria’s name on it.”

It genuinely took all of Brooke’s strength not to throw up on the spot, her mind reeling in horror. God, Kate… She’d known from the start that whatever had happened to Kate during that gap in her memory had to be awful. Why was she so unprepared for the details now?

For several long seconds, she tried and failed to put the mental images out of mind. She didn’t want to see the photos, but her imagination was doing plenty to leave her reeling. Brooke came back to reality only belatedly, as she realized Max was saying something important.

“In Rachel’s binder, there was this photo in the junkyard… God–”

She was interrupted by several urgent honks in succession from outside. Max shook her head and started to walk out, Brooke hurrying after, trying to call her drone back down from the sky as she did. She forced herself to ask a question she really didn’t want to know the answer to.

“Max, is Rachel…?”

The haunted look in Max’s eye as she glanced over her shoulder said it all.

The air in the truck cabin was even heavier than before as they tore through the outskirts of town at frankly irresponsible speeds. Max halfheartedly urged Chloe to slow down once or twice before giving up, the jolting of the vehicle making Brooke feel even closer to hurling than before.

All the way, she dwelled on the information Max had given her about the bunker, her heart aching for Kate. Learning what had happened to her made Brooke want to hug her friend tight and never let go (though she honestly couldn’t say if it was for Kate’s sake or her own). Never before had the distance between them ached quite so much.

Just as easily however, her mind flip-flopped to Rachel’s fate. Her stomach continued to turn the more she thought about it. Some vain hope still suggested that they would find nothing there, that Rachel was alive in LA after all, but… Brooke wasn’t stupid. And she wasn’t sure she could handle seeing a dead body, either.

The truck rolled into American Rust before long and came to a stop in a clearing among the rubbish. Chloe left the motor running when she hopped out and ran recklessly deeper into the junkyard, Max trailing behind.

Brooke was substantially more wobbly getting out, and she found herself leaning against the truck, shoes stubbornly glued to the spot, breathing heavily. Chloe didn’t seem to notice as she disappeared around a corner, but Max glanced back and gave an understanding nod before following, leaving Brooke alone.

Breathe, girl. Breathe. She tried her best to steady herself, closing her eyes and counting to ten. She’d known from the moment she butted into the investigation that something like this could be waiting at the end. But it was suddenly all too real.

If this wasn’t all for Kate’s sake, Brooke admitted to herself that she’d probably be quitting right about now, as shit was getting just a little too real. But the thought, in that moment, disgusted her. She couldn’t give up now.

The sound of anguished sobbing drifted over the heaps of forgotten things, barely audible beneath the ambient birdsong of the surrounding wood. It sent a pang through Brooke’s heart and redoubled her resolve. Not just for Kate’s sake. My other friends, too. God, poor Chloe.

As she thought that, she opened her eyes again, and saw something standing at the treeline. A doe, its tawny fur golden in the late afternoon light, looking in the direction that the sobs were coming from.

There was something subtly wrong about it, and it took Brooke a moment to place it, the sensation growing more familiar by the moment. No way. There’s another one?

The doe turned to look at Brooke directly, its ears flicking. It held the stare for a long moment, before bowing its head and simply fading from view, as if it was never there at all.

If it weren’t gauche in the moment, Brooke would say that it felt like someone had walked over her grave.

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 10th 2013 – Part Four [ Brooke ]

She flew on fell wings, beating her way through a dark, cloudy sky. A crash of thunder accompanied lightning which lit her fierce gold eyes; they flashed angrily as she searched the land below. She was above it all. She was strong. She was a predator.

There was a disturbance against the darkened land, some shadow, even darker, passing across it. She’d found her prey. Raindrops shed from the tips of her remiges like beads of glass as she tucked in her wings and dove with talons outstretched and a whistling cry.

Her prey ran fast, but she was faster. Anger drove her onward – she finally had the bastard who hurt Kate and those other girls, and she’d make him regret ever being born – and it drove her straight into the fleeing figure’s midsection with a heavy whump, punctuated by another thunderclap.

Fog rolled in as her prey fell, and she dug in greedily, snapping with intent to kill. As soon as her beak pierced his heart, the rest of him crumbled to ash, stained with dark red trickles.

A thrill of victory surged through her; she streaked his blood across her beak, dusted her feathers with his ashes. But she didn’t notice as the fog began to swirl around her. It was a building roar in the darkness that finally caused her to lift her head, staring with incomprehension. Something larger than any beast and many times as hungry was coming closer. Closer.

A blast of wind caught her, threatening to smash her delicate bones.

And Brooke woke up.

Her eyes fell open, greeting her dorm room ceiling. It was dark, and the ticking of the atomic clock on her desk (actually just themed after the periodic table) was the only sound.

Feeling herself over, Brooke found no feathers; just her same dusty hoodie from earlier, which she hadn’t bothered taking off before falling over in bed with exhaustion. She’d been knocked out for a few hours.

It wasn’t enough time, she thought as she sat up, fixing her glasses. There was a gloomy cast about her mood, and it wasn’t just the darkened room doing it. Even a nap couldn’t let her recover fully from the day’s events so far.

Brooke felt a little silly and selfish for being so shaken up. It was Max and Chloe who had seen the photos. Max and Chloe who had found Rachel’s body. Max who Brooke had hugged helplessly by the truck in the junkyard while Chloe just stared despondently into the distance, broken.

In some ways she also felt like a voyeur to their pain. She thought back to her brief chat with Chloe at her place hours before. Despite Chloe’s assurances at the time, Brooke still couldn’t help feeling that this was Max and Chloe’s journey first and foremost, and herself a useless tagalong.

Am I supposed to be a part of this story at all? No answer came as she sat there with her chin planted in her hands, a distant, Kate-shaped argument to the contrary flitting around the corners of her mind. It flew away as Brooke’s phone buzzed, and she focused on the letters on the screen.

Max: Hey, Brooke… Sorry to butt in on your alone time. I know you must have a lot on your mind after earlier. Just wanted to give you a heads up that we’ll need to hurry to make it to the End of the World party and warn Victoria.

That would be their best shot to do so, Brooke thought. Victoria still had a long way to go before Brooke considered her worth tolerating, let alone actually getting along with. But she definitely didn’t deserve to die. The empty binder with her name on it had mostly slipped Brooke’s mind among everything else, but it was a chilling mental image. They had to make sure Victoria kept an eye out.

Brooke: thanks. don’t worry about me, i’m fine. how are you?

Max: I’m keeping it together. More or less. This is all just so insanely fucked up. I don’t even know where to begin honestly. But I want to see it through for Rachel. And Chloe.

Brooke: how’s she holding up?

Max’s typing indicator ran for several seconds.

Max: Not great. She puts up a strong front a lot but she gets hurt easily. And right now she’s about as hurt as I’ve ever seen her.

Max: I wish there was more I could do for her.

Brooke: i know the feeling, max. you’re a good person.

Max: Thanks…

Max: Do you want to wait up for us?

Brooke: no, i’ll go chat with a couple of my friends first. i figure that’ll make for good cover as i scout the place out for you. i’ll shoot a text if i notice any trouble.

Max: Thanks a million Brooke. I don’t know where we’d be without you.

Maybe Brooke should add ‘flatterer’ to Max’s list of improbable attributes. They’d be fine without me, really. She hauled herself out of bed to change hoodies and stepped out of her dorm room, fully expecting to return before long.

On her way across campus toward the swimming pool, Brooke passed dozens of laughing and chattering teens. Maybe they could afford to be cheerful; they didn’t carry the burdens Brooke did. But she still thought they were forgetting about Kate in an awful hurry. She ignored them, following the distant thump of music to its source. The students were all being drawn in toward the building like a mecca, multicolored lights streaming through its windows and into the night, beckoning them closer. Brooke guessed she was just another one of them.

The party had just started less than fifteen minutes before, so people were still streaming in. Brooke had to awkwardly shoulder her way through, mumbling apologies but mostly going unnoticed in her typical fashion.

As she rounded the front of the building, something in the air changed, and the night grew brighter. She heard gasps and mutters of surprise, the crowd coming to a stop, jostling her in place as her progress was halted. Seeing faces pointed skyward, she frowned in confusion and looked up.

She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t that. There were two moons in the sky over the gathering, full and bright. Not even the right phase; it was supposed to be coming up on a first quarter moon that night.

Though she tried to rationalize the sight away – a halfhearted reflex at this point – Brooke found that both moons were reflecting the same amount of light, and it was much brighter than a normal full moon night ought to be. They’re both real, she forced herself to acknowledge. Somehow.

The surprise and wonder were dulled somewhat. So many impossible sights in succession had numbed her, and after the very real events of the day, it was hard to feel strong emotion about yet another celestial anomaly. Just another day in Arcadia Bay.

Though some students broke out of the line to take pictures, most of them disregarded the sight before long, and the line started to move again. After staying to stare a moment longer, Brooke gave up on trying to understand and walked into the party after them.

Behind the front desk, she found Stella Hill manning the admissions. It had been a few days since they’d actually talked, and Brooke honestly had to say she’d missed it. Stella had a good head on her shoulders and was about as dedicated to her schoolwork as Brooke was, so they got along well.

Brooke wondered if Stella had noticed that she was skipping classes the last two days. She could really do without judging eyes on her along with everything else. But Stella looked more concerned than anything, raising her eyebrows at Brooke as she came over.

“Wow, hey. I really didn’t expect to see you here tonight, Brooke. Especially after what happened to Kate…”

Brooke grunted as she gazed at the crowd gathering around the pool. “I would’ve thought it would dampen the mood for the party in general, but I can see our classmates aren’t that bothered.”

Stella winced, sympathetic. “I wouldn’t be here myself if Mr. Jefferson hadn’t offered me the job. I kind of needed the money…”

That surprised Brooke into looking Stella’s way again. “Wait, Jefferson is here? I thought he was suspended.”

“He was, yeah. But did you see that tribute webpage that went up asking for him to get reinstated?”

Brooke had not; she’d been busy. She was both glad she’d avoided seeing that garbage for herself, and glad that her name had been kept out of that whole story. Jefferson was popular with the student body, and she didn’t fancy a witch hunt if his groupies found out she was responsible for his suspension.

“I’m guessing his students made enough of a buzz to get the suspension lifted.”

“Not entirely,” Stella corrected. “He is still suspended, but he was allowed to chaperone for the party.”

They must have been short on bodies. Brooke kept her thoughts to herself; she didn’t want to think too much about that smug prick tonight, anyway. “Alright. I’m glad for you getting the work, though. Really.” A question occurred to her. “Hey, by the way, has Nathan shown up yet?”

“No,” Stella said, adding with a mumble, “thank God.” Then, confused, “Why do you ask?”

“I’d just… rather avoid him if I can.”

Stella gave her a searching look. “Did you do something to piss him off? Dude does have a hair trigger…”

More than you know, Stella, Brooke thought. “I might have gotten him a little bit suspended.”

That startled a laugh out of Stella before realization came over her, and her eyes widened. “Wait, wasn’t that at the same time that Mr. Jefferson…?”

Brooke shifted on her shoes awkwardly and looked away. Stella peered searchingly at her and then let out a little laugh.

“Girl, you’ve had a crazy week. You’d better be taking care of yourself, okay?”

“I am.” Doing her best, at any rate. “Just text me if you see Prescott, okay?”

“You’ve got it. Uh… by the way, do you want to leave that here?”

Stella was pointing at the drone and tablet tucked under Brooke’s arm. She’d almost forgotten she was still carrying it, but it wasn’t like there was a safer place around here to stow it. The idea of someone stealing it almost made her break out in hives.

“I guess I’d probably better. Don’t wanna drop it in the pool.” Although a bit reluctantly, she handed it over, entrusting it to Stella. The other girl stored it behind the desk, safely nestled among some abandoned jackets.

“No worries, Brooke. I’ll watch over your baby for you. Have fun!”

Brooke wasn’t sure that she would. But if somewhere in the thronging pool room there was a good distraction from her troubles, she was certainly hoping to find it.

Minutes passed, and Brooke wasn’t sure she was any closer to finding anything positive here than she was before. She had found a cup of something to drink, which she was carefully covering with her hand, ever vigilant. Aside from that, it was as much of a trial as she’d expected. The loud music wasn’t doing her head a lot of favors, and the crowd was overwhelming her.

She’d kept an eye out for any sign of Victoria, but had come up short. No doubt she was sequestered in the VIP section. Brooke didn’t think she had a prayer of sweet talking her way in there; maybe Max would have better luck when she arrived later. The girl was a goddamn chameleon.

Although she’d been approached several times by admirers, still impressed with her rooftop exploits the other day, she’d more or less shaken all of them off, seeking actual friends to talk to who weren’t going to treat her like some kind of superhero. They were few and far between.

She did, however, eventually find Daniel DaCosta. He was roaming the party looking lost in much the same way she was, but when he caught her eye he smiled and waved shyly.

Brooke and Daniel shared common ground on a number of things, comics, graphic novels, anime and manga being among them. He was a sensitive and intelligent guy, and pretty easy to talk to. She didn’t hesitate to walk up and initiate conversation, thankful for the sight of a friendly face in all this noise.

“Hey, Brooke! Fancy seeing you here. You’re just as much of an alien in this setting as I am, huh?”

“Reporting from the surface, Martian captain,” she said in a flat affect. “No signs of intelligent life.”

Daniel chuckled at that. “I’m glad all the craziness of the week hasn’t killed your sense of humor. When that goes away, I know we’ll really be in trouble.”

Sighing, Brooke answered, “The serious stuff’s never far from the surface right now, but I’m managing.”

“D’you want to talk about it?”

Brooke’s eyes went somewhere far away. She thought of blood dripping from a beak and the sound of crying in a junkyard.

“Best not to ruin the party vibe,” she denied in a hurry. “Speaking of, how’d you end up in a place like this? I thought you shunned Vortex parties on principle.”

“Normally I do,” Daniel admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t going to come until Max convinced me to. She said I should stick it to the Blackwell bullies and show them I’m not afraid of getting shoved into any lockers… or swimming pools.”

“Wow, yeah. You got hit with one of her Caulfield pep talks, huh? Those are all the rage right now.” Where did Max find the time to talk to all of these people, Brooke wondered? Lately it seemed like wherever she went, Max had already tilled the ground ahead of her. “I guess that’s a good point on her part. After what happened to Kate, I don’t think us geeks can afford to be meek and mild anymore.”

“Yes, speak the truth!” he added with another small laugh. “But the party hasn’t been too bad so far. Better now that there’s another friendly face here, too. I did see Warren around a few minutes ago, but I lost track of him.”

“I’ll have to chase him down, there was some stuff I wanted to talk with him about.” More than a bit of it, in fact.

“Well, hey, there’s no rush, right?”

Seeing the hopeful cast of his smile, Brooke returned it obligingly and tilted her head, shrugging. “Nah, I’m sure I’ll get a chance later. So what’s new with you?”

They went to lean on the wall out of the way of the other partygoers and talked, settling into an easy and familiar pattern, trading details of what they’d been interested in lately. He told her about his problems in photography class, she told him about the games she’d been playing lately. Their small stories and their laughter managed to be heard under

It was… nice. And Brooke felt, for just a few minutes, like she’d remembered how to be a normal girl again.

Daniel seemed to have something on his mind, though, a question he was nervous to ask. Brooke could tell, and was wondering what it could be. Finally hearing it brought her up short.

“So, there’s this Hayao Miyazaki exhibit at the Portland Art Museum. They’re celebrating the thirtieth anniversary of the first Ghibli film with concept art, original cels and all. I was wondering, you know, if you’d like to visit it with me on Saturday?”

And, oh God, wasn’t that right up her alley? What sort of selfish fangirl wouldn’t want to check out something like that? It was the type of date that was perfect for somebody like her. And Daniel, in every way she could reckon, was the perfect boy. He wasn’t emotionally constipated like most of the boys she knew, wasn’t a meat-headed jock, and was creative and intelligent to boot. He was even kind of cute.

So why wouldn’t she say yes? Why, on the spot, did she feel overpowered with anxiety? Her heart rate was increasing, and she didn’t think it was in the good way that was supposed to happen when a guy asks you out. It was like she’d been handed a test she hadn’t studied for.

Brooke tried to tell herself at first that it was because she was still hung up on Warren, but the answer rang hollow. The anxiety turned to shame as she acknowledged that being able to stop worrying about dating Warren had been more of a relief than anything else. Like a big weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

But she still didn’t understand why. Was she just bad at being a girl? Was there… something wrong with her?

No, duh, there was a simple answer. She was just under a lot of stress lately. She would tell Daniel as much; the poor guy was looking a little worried after Brooke’s protracted silence. But her phone rang, stealing her attention away.

“Shit,” she uttered as she saw the caller ID. “I’ve got to take this, one sec. Max?”

On the other end: “Hey, Brooke, we’re coming up on the parking lot now.”

“I’ll be right out,” she told Max, then hung up. “Sorry, Daniel, I don’t think I can make it this time. Let’s hang out soon, okay?”

“Sure,” he answered with an uncertain smile. “See you later, Brooke.”

When she turned and walked out of the party, it felt a little more like an escape than an exit. She wasn’t meant for this place. She needed to fly.

As Brooke emerged into the Arcadian night again, she found that the line had greatly diminished. She’d arrived just in time to see Chloe step out of her truck with Max a step behind, and came up alongside them with Max staring up at the sky.

“Weird, huh?” Brooke ventured, eyeing the double moons once again.

“Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it,” said Max, pensive.

Chloe had no patience for this, a growl of annoyance building in her throat. She was pacing in place like a caged tiger, her fists clenched. “Can we stop gawping at the sky and get to the important shit? We’ve got business inside.”

Brooke winced as she met Chloe’s eye. Max hadn’t been kidding about the brittle state she was in. Chloe caught Brooke’s plaintive look, but shook her head and looked off to the side, subdued. Clearly she wasn’t in a talking mood.

So Brooke sighed and got right to business. “Victoria’s in the VIP area if you want to work your magic, Max.” She didn’t notice either of her friends tense up a second before relaxing at her word choice. “I didn’t see Nathan anywhere and neither had anyone else I asked. Hope that helps to narrow down your search.”

“Thanks again, Brooke,” Max said, trying to mollify her with a smile.

“Yeah. Thanks.” Chloe’s voice came out rather flat. At least she didn’t sound insincere. As she turned to storm into the party, Chloe blinked at Warren, who had just come up to the group. He was swaying a bit.

“Uhh. Bad time?”

“Yes,” Chloe said, stepping around him. “Come on, Max.”

But Max stayed to at least say a quick hello. “Hi, Warren.”

“Hey,” Brooke added, then paused to ask a question. “Dude, are you drunk already?”

“It was only half a beer,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. His black eye was starting to fade already, but combined with the motion it made him look kind of like a kicked puppy.

Brooke offered a pitying chuckle. “Walkin’ on the wild side.” She glanced at Max. “You run on after Chloe, I’ll keep Warren company, okay?”

“Later Brooke,” Max said, waving to the two as she hurried after her friend. Thus left to their own devices, Warren and Brooke sized each other up for a moment.

Warren ended up breaking the stalemate first. “You look tired, Brooke.”

He hit the nail right on the head. Brooke nodded hesitantly and started walking a short distance, stopping at the concrete edge of a planter outside the building. She sat on it, letting him come and claim the spot beside her. “I am tired, Warren. This week’s been hell.”

“I know I haven’t made that much easier,” he mumbled.

Brooke just waved a hand, dismissing the idea. “Come on, we already had a sappy talk about that. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

At the reassurance, Warren nodded, slouched a bit as he sat and peeked at the twin moons furtively, as if afraid they’d notice him. “I’ll be honest, all my theories about what’s going on have fallen down, one after another. This might just be inexplicable, Brooke.”

Brooke pursed her lips in thought. She was setting her drone up to fly. Normally she wouldn’t bother at night time, but with two actual full moons in the sky, there was more than enough light. “Inexplicable? No. Impossible, maybe, but I think there is an explanation.” She glanced at him as she started up her tablet. “Do you want to hear my theory?”

“Let’s hear it, Brookestradamus.” He managed to only slur the name a little bit, his cup sloshing.

Brooke’s face turned more serious though as she watched her drone ascend. She was well aware that she was about to sound crazy – but it had been that sort of week.

“Let’s consider all of the pieces again. We have the meteorological side. That’s the snow from a clear sky on Monday, and also the temperatures we’ve had all week.”

“The temperatures?” Warren asked, confused.

“The unseasonably warm and sunny weather,” she clarified. By the widening of his eyes, clearly that hadn’t stood out to him among the other occurrences, but he nodded in understanding. Brooke continued. “There’s the biological side – the dying birds and whales. Then finally the astronomical side, with the eclipse and now the double moons.”

“Right,” Warren agreed, nodding slowly. “There doesn’t exactly seem to be a common link between all of them, does there?”

“I think there is,” Brooke said, her voice small, quiet. On her tablet, the pool building and parking lot filled the frame as her drone looked down. No signs of trouble. Yet. “Let’s look at the moon acting crazy, since that’s the most obvious part. We’ve gotten two extra moon phases this week which shouldn’t have been there. That would suggest the moon’s in a different position in its orbit than it actually is. No one else in the world has noticed. Why?”

“Uh… because we’re all crazy yokels who are probably hallucinating?” He cracked a small grin as he echoed their conversation from the previous morning.

“No, what we’re seeing is real. The moon hasn’t moved – but light has. Specifically, it’s moved forward and backward in time.”

“... You lost me.”

“Well, take the full moons up there. Those could be from this year, but months apart. The light they send down to Earth on whatever their appointed dates are, that’s actually there. And the eclipse on Tuesday night? I checked historical eclipses and future forecasts. It looked just like a partial eclipse we’re due to get sixteen years from now – in 2029.”

Warren looked perturbed. “How can the light be reaching us if the moon isn’t there, though?”

“Search me, the mechanics are a mystery. Is there a rift in the sky to different times and dates that we just can’t see unless the celestial bodies behind it look a bit off? Who knows. But in the basic sense, it’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Okay,” he said, slowly. “And the weather is easy to explain in the same way, I guess. Weather from January or July comes through this supposed rift and gives us meteorological mayhem. But what about the animals?”

“There are a few possible explanations there. It could be the temperatures themselves causing the animals to become stressed and confused. Personally, I suspect the Earth’s magnetic field.”

“What, like it’s shifted? Yeah, whales and birds both use it to navigate, but wouldn’t that screw up electronics around here too?”

“Not necessarily,” Brooke corrected. “But it might just be the case that the animals themselves are coming from different times and getting disoriented by our modern conditions. I know NOAA and the Fish and Wildlife Service track the whales off our coast to check on population numbers and such, but I haven’t heard a peep about identifying the pod that washed up on our beach. I mean, that would really set their alarm bells off, right?”

Warren chewed on all that, brow furrowing. “So you think…”

“I think that as far-fetched as it is, the other explanations just don’t make any sense. So yes. That’s the common thread I see between everything that’s happened here.” She paused for breath. “Something has gone wrong with the flow of time itself. Arcadia Bay is at the center of some kind of massive temporal anomaly.”

For a long moment, they were silent. Brooke tracked her drone across the sky. Eventually, Warren spoke again.

“Do you think there’s any chance the rift can eat our chem test for next week?” They shared a small laugh at that, before Warren straightened up, pouring the rest of his drink out in the flowerbed behind them. “I still don’t know if I believe all that, Brooke, but it makes some kind of internal sense. God knows we’ve had too much crazy this week.”

“And it’s not over yet,” she mumbled. Glancing his way, she found him watching her with a curious eye. “Before you ask, no, I don’t have two hearts, and I don’t have a TARDIS. I don’t even have a car…”

“Nnno, I was going to ask about the drone, actually.”

“Oh.” She blinked, considering what she could and could not say. “It’s a long story, but… I’m keeping an eye out for Nathan. He’s acted really threateningly toward me and Max, and we’re worried he might be here tonight. I didn’t see him inside, so I figured I might catch him coming up.”

“Ugh, that creep.” Warren grumbled, touching his fading black eye. “I haven’t seen him today either, sorry. Not even at the party. I think he left the dorms this morning.”

“That might be for the best,” Brooke said. Though she had to wonder – if Nathan hadn’t been at the dorms where Warren would have seen him, and he wasn’t at the party, then where was he?

Brooke chewed her lip and tried not to worry. Instead, she met Warren’s eyes again and changed topics. “Hey… look, I know things have been awkward lately…”

“You said, it was water under the bridge, right?” He laughed nervously.

She gave him a warning glance and a small pout, then continued. “The world’s a scary place, right? And a lot of shit could go wrong…”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Just listen,” she hissed, impatient, before smoothing her tone out with a small sigh. “... You know you’re my friend, right? And I care about you.”

“Y… yeah.” Warren blinked at her. “Of course I know that. You too, Brooke.”

Brooke decided she could spare one arm after that, leaning over to put it around Warren’s shoulder. They leaned on each other for a moment, watching as the moons in the sky hung full and bright.

Something in their silvery light reminded Brooke of Kate, still waiting in the hospital, and she detached her arm from around Warren. “Someday soon everything will be normal again. And we’ll make up for lost time, I promise.”

He smiled and was about to answer when the doors to the building crashed open, with Chloe leading Max out. Her shout rang across the parking lot: “That little fucker!”

Brooke stood up and Warren, a bit more unsteady, took a couple of seconds longer to do the same. “Whoa, what the hell? What’s going on?”

“Nathan texted us,” Max told her, eyeing Warren sidelong and measuring her words. “He’s… at the junkyard. We need to stop him.”

“Wait, doesn’t he have a gun? What do you guys expect to do about it?”

“A gun?” Warren echoed, looking a bit green. This was all going over his head.

“We’ll figure that out when we get there,” Chloe gritted out. “But we sure as hell can’t let him destroy the evidence. Come on!”

Brooke had a really bad feeling about this, so she shook her head and gestured up at her drone in the sky. “He might be diverting you guys away so he can come snatch Victoria or something. You go. I’ll stay and make sure he doesn’t sneak in here. Call me if anything goes wrong, okay?”

Grudgingly, Chloe nodded, then led Max back to her truck. It took off moments after, tearing out of the parking lot and down the road.

“What in the hell…?” Warren mumbled. “Brooke, are you going to tell me about what’s going on?”

“I might not have a choice after all that,” she said with a sigh, running her hand across her forehead to smooth her bangs. “Look, we found out that Nathan has been kidnapping people. He did it to Kate, and he did it to Rachel Amber. The only difference is, Rachel… didn’t make it.”

“Oh God,” he uttered under his breath. He leaned into the outside wall of the building. “Are you for real right now, Brooke? That’s beyond heavy. You need to get the cops involved.”

“I plan to,” she assured him. Even if Chloe didn’t like it. “We just need to make sure all the evidence is square. Anything less than that won’t stick to a Prescott in this town.”

“And he was gonna grab Victoria too? I thought they were friends.”

Don’t talk about Vic, she heard in her mind’s eye. “They are. They’re really close. Maybe to him that doesn’t make a difference. Or maybe…”

As she trailed off, the door swung open again, a tall figure striding outside. Brooke’s instincts urged her; she grabbed Warren and pressed the both of them up against the wall a little closer to hide their profiles.

The figure was Mark Jefferson. He was pulling his jacket on, expression curiously still – deathly calm – even as he stared up at the sky. The twin moons inspired no visible trace of wonder in the man as he fixed his sleeve cuffs, before marching purposefully to his black sedan. Once he was inside, he tore out of the parking lot at much the same speed Chloe did a minute before, and turned out onto the road, disappearing.

I need my eye in the sky. Now. Brooke ignored Warren’s questioning look as she pulled her tablet up and swiveled the drone’s view around. She could make out the headlights of Chloe’s truck, making its way toward American Rust.

And, steadily gaining, Jefferson’s car headed the same way.

A few things clicked into place for Brooke in that moment, and she stared into the distance.

“Oh, fuck.”

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 10th 2013 – Part Five [ Brooke ]

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I have been so dense? Brooke swore at herself under her breath as she called her drone back to earth, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Brooke?” Warren asked beside her, worried. “What’s up? Is he… is he a part of it?”

“How did I not realize sooner?” she almost-answered, tucking her belongings under her arm, then holding a hand out expectantly. “Your car’s in the lot, right?”

Warren didn’t ask any further questions; he just trusted. Fishing in his pocket for it first, he dropped his key into her waiting palm. “Just don’t get hurt out there, Brooke.”

“I’ll try,” she said with a smile that she didn’t quite feel, but she was genuinely touched. Taking a moment, she hugged Warren, though he didn’t manage to return it before she broke off and ran into the lot. “See you soon!”

A more meaningful farewell might have been nice, all things considered, but there was no time. She unlocked Warren’s jank-ass blue car, threw her shit into the passenger seat, and took off as fast as she could.

As she flew out onto the forest road heading toward the junkyard, dialing Max’s number with one shaky hand, it occurred to Brooke that she should have given Warren a little more to go off of, in case… no, it didn’t bear thinking about. Nobody was going to die today.

Max picked up. “Brooke?”

“Max,” she answered, an exhale of relieved breath leaving her. Still alive. “Are you and Chloe at the junkyard already?”

“Uh, yeah, we got out of the truck a minute ago–”

“Then there’s no time. You need to get back to the truck or hide. Someone’s coming your way and I think he means business.”

“What? What do you mean, who’s coming?”

There was a small click to indicate Max had turned on the speakerphone. Chloe’s voice came over after a second. She sounded ragged. “--s it Nathan, Brooke?”

“It’s the accomplice I mentioned. And you might not believe me, but it’s fucking Jefferson. He took off after you.”

“Jefferson?!” Max exclaimed, disbelieving.

“That hipster douchebag? No way,” Chloe added.

“I’m not jerking you around here!” Brooke all but shouted into the phone, exasperated. There was no time to sit around arguing about this.

“I know you wouldn’t, Brooke,” Max placated, still sounding a little rattled. “God… Okay, we’re kind of far from the truck, but we’ll try to find–”

“Max!” Chloe suddenly cried, cutting her off.

There were a few seconds of indistinct rustling and voices, eventually punctuated by a muffled but still sharp crack.

Brooke had heard hunters at work in the distant woods around the Bay enough times to recognize a gunshot when she heard it.

“Max! Chloe! ” But there was no answer. Swearing, she sped up even as she hung up the call and dialed 911 instead.

The phone felt like it took an eternity to connect. In that moment, Brooke cursed herself some more. She’d known Jefferson was an asshole from the start, and a bit shady to boot, but she should have connected the pieces sooner. Especially once she heard about the photo studio under the barn. Now because of her sluggishness, her friends – two amazing girls she’d quickly grown to appreciate having in her life – were in danger.

“This is the Arcadia Bay area 911 service,” a voice finally droned through the phone line. “Can you please state the nature of your emergency?” 

“There are gunshots being fired at American Rust – the junkyard? There’s a gunman and two teenagers in danger.”

“To be clear, are you sure this is an active gunman situation and not just teenagers messing around shooting at trash?”

The voice on the other side sounded skeptical, and the irony of the question was not lost on Brooke, who had heard that part of Max’s story the day before. “I’m absolutely certain!”

“Please try to stay calm so I can help you, okay? You saw this for yourself?”

“I saw him driving there, and when I called my friends to warn them, I heard gunshots through the phone. It’s Mark Jefferson, the teacher from Blackwell. You got that? Mark Jefferson.” Brooke’s patience was quickly running thin, but mercifully, that seemed to be the end of the questioning.

“We’ll send ABPD officers up to check it out, ma’am. Please stay where you are and stay safe. And can I have a name to write down?”

As she gave it, Brooke shook her head. Fat chance of her actually following that order. The ABPD station was clear on the other side of the town from the junkyard and it could be ten minutes or more before they actually showed up. She, on the other hand, was close. If anybody was going to help bail Max and Chloe out of this, it was her. Arcadia Bay’s useless cops were just insurance, in case… in case.

God help her. Brooke really shouldn’t have been doing this, but she could never forgive herself if she left Max and Chloe to their fates. We’re in this together. After hanging up on 911, there was one last call to make. It went to voicemail, of course; it was getting late and there was no one awake to answer.

“Hey… Mom? Hopefully we can laugh about this tomorrow, but I just wanted you to know I love you. Okay? … Talk to you soon.”

Finally putting her phone down and swallowing her fear, Brooke gunned the car’s engine faster, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

American Rust in the dark looked hellish, Brooke thought. Metal struts and broken signposts protruded like fingers into the night, as if devils were reaching up from Hades below, ready to snare you when you pass. A faint smell of grease and decaying metal cloyed at the air; Brooke had already started to associate it with death.

She knew what dark secrets it held now, the grisly evidence that had hidden beneath Chloe’s feet as she rusted away her days here. Now even more unknown horrors were happening within. More bodies for the devils to grab onto.

Hopefully she’d pull her friends from their grasp, and not just end up more fodder for this miserable place.

She still hadn’t been able to get a hold of Max or Chloe, and hoped that it just meant they had wisely silenced their phones. Seeing that Jefferson’s car was still sitting outside – right beside Chloe’s truck – she knew he at least hadn’t gotten away yet.

Brooke had parked Warren’s car a ways down the road and ran the rest of the way on foot, not wanting Jefferson to hear the engine; she was already a bit winded by the time she reached the junkyard gates. She considered it a mercy that the twin full moons were gone, replaced by an almost-quarter moon which was sinking toward the southwest. It was dark enough now that she could count on not being spotted.

Actually spotting anything herself was a problem that counted against her, however. There wasn’t any lighting in the junkyard to speak of. The dark of the night was near-total. It was on soft, careful steps that Brooke entered, her ears perked for trouble. She had to find Max and Chloe, make sure that they were still alive, and help them escape. They had to be here somewhere.

God, she hoped she wasn’t going to find more corpses.

Crickets and night birds could be heard as a background chorus, their sound somewhat muted. American Rust itself was quiet, whatever animals that called the place home at night silencing themselves because of the presence of humans. All that is, but one.

Brooke started when a hoot went right through her, and looked up. Silhouetted against the setting moon, a great horned owl sat on an unlit lamp post. Its golden eyes bored into her, as if in judgement or disapproval. You don’t belong here, it seemed to say. Its stare lasted a few seconds longer before it took flight, leaving her heart pounding harder than before.

For a second it seemed like that was that, and Brooke began to draw a sigh of relief. Then, for whatever reason – faulty wiring reconnected by the jostle of the owl’s movement or just honest shit luck on Brooke’s part – the lamp flickered to life, casting its harsh glow down upon her. The fluorescent bulb buzzed audibly, loud in the otherwise quiet night. She swore and backpedaled away, head swinging left and right, but found her night vision hopelessly wrecked.

She couldn’t stay there, so she picked a direction and started moving – speed walking, really. On one side, there was a wrecked car propped on cinder blocks and a row of old house appliances. On the other, the tangled mesh of an old chain link fence spanned several yards, surrounded with tall heaps of refuse. In between there was a narrow corridor, which Brooke squeezed herself into, stayed low, and waited.

She held her breath, the sound of her pulse in her ears drowning out everything. And as if to confirm her worst fears, a small light appeared as she stared through the broken fence. It was coming from deeper in the junkyard and steadily moving toward the lamp. Brooke had trouble seeing who was holding the flashlight, but she could make out from the size and gait of the figure that it was a man. Bad news.

Brooke knew that the moment Jefferson reached the lamp, he’d start looking around. No doubt he would notice the small gap that she was trying to escape through. She had to move, and fast, or risk getting trapped where she was.

The beam of the flashlight swung perilously close to where she had been hiding just a second before. Crouching as she walked to keep her head low, Brooke got moving.

Despite her attempts to measure her pace, she found herself challenged by uneven ground. Her shoes bumped into strewn items, a couple at a time, culminating in her tripping over something – a bicycle pump, it felt like – and falling with a noisy clatter, just barely catching herself on her hands. She felt gravel dig into her palms.

As soon as she realized what she’d just done, she found herself forced to throw caution to the wind. She picked herself up and sprinted, taking a corner and finally stopping when she found a pile of tires around the bend. Her back hit it the same moment that her butt hit the ground, like all the fight had gone out of her muscles at once. She forced her breath into steadiness, listened, and prayed, if only to herself.

The soft crunch of footsteps on gravel came closer. Daring to peek through the tires, Brooke saw the flashlight scanning along the row she’d just vacated.

In the man’s other hand, something hard and metal glinted in the light. Brooke bit her lip and shrank down a bit, hiding her head. In any event, the light did not pass her way, at least not yet, and the footsteps stopped. A dreadful silence lingered, before the man spoke.

“So close but so far, Miss Price.” Mark Jefferson’s voice was smooth, almost unnaturally controlled and calm. “You were almost to the entrance. Stupid to run this way, really.” Another short pause, as he swung the light around, still searching. “Come on now. I’m not a cruel man, and I truly don’t want to hurt Max. We both know you’re too dangerous to let go, but nothing has to happen to her…”

Brooke suppressed a shiver of revulsion. She seriously doubted that. But more importantly, this gave her some valuable information. Chloe’s still alive then. But why did he assume it’s her and not Max? He said it like they were together…

Rather than stay and figure it out, she shook her head and carefully pushed herself up. It was hard to keep her balance with how much she was shaking, but she managed to get back on her feet again and hurry onward, leaving the pile of tires behind to use some abandoned washing machines for cover instead.

She heard Jefferson call again in the distance, and knew she was making some headway. A bit of relief seeped in, but there was no time to relax. Now that she knew her friends were alive, she had to link up with them and made sure they actually had a plan to get out of here. The fact that Jefferson seemed so sure they were still trapped in the junkyard was definitely not a great sign.

Once she felt that she was a safe enough distance away, Brooke began to call out, an elevated whisper sent into the dark, desperate for an answer. “Chloe? Are you here? Max?”

She proceeded deeper, in the direction of the clubhouse and Rachel Amber’s resting place, still periodically calling their names. She almost fell over with shock when a spark flickered in the dark just to her left, soon settling into a steady flame at the end of a lighter. Holding it was Chloe, her expression somewhere between relieved and confused.

She was crouched low to the ground, and in her free arm she was cradling Max, who was out cold. Brooke felt her gut sink when she saw Max’s head lolled slightly to the side, a faint trickle of blood trailing down from one nostril.

“Brooke?” Chloe, disbelieving. “What the hell are you doing here? You need to get away.”

“I could say the same to you,” Brooke responded. “What about you? What happened to Max?”

Chloe chewed on her words for a second, measuring her response. Brooke wondered what the hell needed such careful phrasing. Chloe said, “Look, when Jefferson shot at us, she got me out of the way. Then she just… fainted.”

“She’s bleeding, did she have a stroke or something?”

“She just gets nosebleeds a lot,” came Chloe’s answer, a little too quickly.

That much was true. Brooke had caught Max wiping her nose a lot this week, and on the rooftop she’d showed up with a killer nosebleed. Whatever. There was no time to pry right now.

“I called the cops to warn them about Jefferson,” Brooke said. “Then I hurried over because they’re useless and will probably be a while. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“Well look at you, Billy Badass,” Chloe said, her voice shaky with hope. She flashed a very small smile. “Alright, so let’s say we’re… going to do that. How?”

Brooke eyed Max again with worry. “You need to get her out of here. She’s helpless. So since you’re lugging her around… I’ll distract him.”

“Whoa, okay, hold the phone. You are not going to be the bait for some psycho murderer for me and Max’s sake. There’s got to be a better way.”

Then Chloe clicked the lighter shut with a look of alarm. Brooke glanced over her shoulder and saw that the flashlight was now coming back this way again.

“Don’t argue,” Brooke muttered back. “I’ll go clockwise, you go counterclockwise. And I’ll make some noise.”

Chloe swore under her breath, then said, “God, I hope you know what you’re doing. Good luck.” Brooke felt Chloe pat her arm, before the punk and her unconscious friend started to move. This wasn’t Brooke’s brightest plan, but it was the only thing they could do in the circumstances. Splitting up was their best hope for survival. Brooke took a breath and started off the opposite way.

As Brooke proceeded, gingerly running her hand along the junk lining her way in order to keep on course, she watched the Jefferson’s light make its way toward where she had been with Chloe and Max just moments before. Making sure she had a clear route to escape, she found something resting on the ground which she realized after a second must be an abandoned blender. Heaving it, she threw it about twenty feet, letting it land with a clatter somewhere to her right.

The flashlight swung and started to move toward it, while Brooke did the opposite, trying to make some distance. If she was lucky, Jefferson would get distracted investigating the sound and wouldn’t be able to follow either her or Chloe.

She was not lucky. There was the sound of a humorless chuckle as the flashlight beam fell on the tossed blender, then followed it to where it was thrown from. Brooke gasped and moved. Had the beam passed over her shoe? Run, urged some primal instinct in her head, and she obeyed.

As she beat her way through the clutter in the dark, miraculously continuing forward rather than tripping on any of the numerous forgotten items, Brooke felt nothing like the hunter she had been in her dream the night before. She was prey, and unless she thought fast, she was going to die that way too.

So she swept an arm out, caught something, and pulled. A heap of metal scrap clattered to the ground behind her, followed shortly by the sound of Jefferson cursing. She felt rather resourceful for a second, at least until a strange sensation stopped her in her tracks.

It was the feeling of the air very near to her head being unsettled, like something whizzed past. Just after, the sharp crack of a gunshot erupted, overwhelming all other sound in the still night. Startled, Brooke finally tripped and landed flat on her face, toppling over a heap of discarded items as she did.

Trying to move, Brooke swore and reached for her left calf. It felt like she’d pulled something; the muscle was taut and radiating pain when she tried to move it. Still, she forced herself to stand, slower than she would like, and grimaced as a beam of light spilled across her face. Fearful, she shielded her eyes from it and looked into the face staring back at her.

The light from the flashlight glared across glass frames, concealing his eyes. A wintry smile of pleased recognition slowly spread across Mark Jefferson’s face as he stood there, his gun aimed unflinchingly at her.

“Brooke Scott.”

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 10th 2013 – Part Six [ Brooke ]

Brooke Scott’s life, it seemed, was nearing its end. All those days staring at the sky, she’d imagined that she would find her way out of Arcadia Bay; catch a thermal and just fly off into a brighter future. She had never pictured her twilight years in much detail – she was a bit young for that – but she certainly didn’t picture them ending here.

Now as she stared down the barrel of a gun, poised and ready to punctuate the short, sad paragraph that was her existence, she was forced to consider the prospect more seriously. It was the only thing on her mind for a moment, in fact. Strange the things your mind fixates upon when you’re about to die.

Go figure, it had to be the absolute armpit of Arcadia Bay, too. No verdant evergreens, no lighthouse vista. The fucking junkyard.

No, some pedantic part of her mind corrected as she thought about it. Not the armpit. The face. This is the only part of Arcadia Bay that’s not wearing a mask. The one spot where you can see the rust that’s underneath all of it.

Poetic, she guessed, but somehow it didn’t make her feel any better about dying. She almost wished Mark Jefferson would stop taking his sweet time so she wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. He still hadn’t pulled the trigger.

“It’s you,” Jefferson muttered, his aim uncannily steady as he stared Brooke down. “Of course it was you. At every step…” He stopped himself with a humorless laugh. “I don’t know how you did it.”

Brooke’s hands were raised, though she wasn’t sure what good it would do her. A sound like distant thunder, or perhaps the roaring wind from her dreams, resounded in her head. Or was it just the sound of her blood rushing? What was he waiting for?

She swallowed and asked, “D-... did what?”

“How you managed to be there every time,” he said, normally, conversationally even, as if this was a casual chat outside his classroom. His gun stayed level, but he moved around her, forcing her to back into a corner against the rusted-out bulk of a crumpled SUV. “How you kept showing up at the worst possible moment. How you’ve spoiled so much for me. Care to indulge my curiosity for a moment? See, I’m sort of pissed off, and it’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

Cracks were showing in his calm. He seemed to think that she had been working to thwart his plan from the start. The fact that he wanted to know how and why, she started to suspect, was the only reason why she was still alive. It wasn’t a way out, but it seemed to be the only scrap of hope in sight. She took hold of it.

Trying to keep her voice steady then, she responded. “Which… which moments do you mean?”

“The fact there’s more than one is galling enough,” Jefferson said, sounding like a disappointed teacher again. “But if you’re content with playing dumb, then I’ll run them by you again. The first was when you rescued Kate. When you turned up in the wrong hallway, at the wrong time, and caught her before she could jump. I can’t say that plan has ever failed me before.”

Her mind tripped over this thrown-away statement. Before? Seeing her confusion, Jefferson flashed a smirk – a cold, pitiless thing – and continued.

“You see, getting my hands dirty… It isn’t my preference. I prefer to let my models cover the trail themselves. To hide their own shame about what’s happened in… just such a sad string of unfortunate incidents. Suicide is the most convenient, of course. And unlike murder, nobody cares when some depressed girl kills herself. Details are quickly forgotten. Kate, the sweet thing, was so close to doing that for me.” His shoulders sagged with a sigh, and he glared at her. “But you were there. On the rooftop. Impossible.”

The confusion gave way to disgust. Clarity. Hate. God, she had never hated another person as much as she did in that moment, hearing Jefferson gloat about his plan to turn Kate into just another statistic. Kate, who had joined her book club. Kate, whose hand she had held just that morning. He could never understand just how important, how valuable, she really was.

It was taking everything Brooke had to remember her current position and resist the urge to lunge at him. She saw only one way that could end.

A picture of her with blood blossoming through her hoodie flashed through her mind’s eye, almost real. A phantom of the pain of a gunshot settled in, or was it just another sinking feeling in her gut? She stayed standing in place, rigid with anger, her wrath powerless.

“The next one was the suspension,” she said instead, her voice dull.

“Yes,” said Jefferson easily. “Now that blindsided me, too. Your anger there in the office… was it personal? Did you already know?” When Brooke remained stubbornly silent, he shook his head. “That placed some unwelcome scrutiny on me. It’s a miracle David Madsen, the paranoid bastard, is so goddamn stupid, or he may have picked up on it then and there. I had to call in a lot of favors to keep things on track…”

He wagged his gun to the side as he spoke. It wasn’t aimed at her for a moment. But as Brooke pictured how she could take advantage of it, another scenario played out in her mind. He’d react too quickly, wrestle her for control, and fire. Her head would snap back with the recoil, the life already gone from her eyes and a hole in her brow.

This time the picture was accompanied by a lightheaded sensation, the feeling of a vein in her temple throbbing painfully. Was it the adrenaline fucking with her, making her mind race too fast?

“You got involved with snooping around right after,” Jefferson said, either not noticing or ignoring her dizzy spell. “Like a dog on the scent. But you just so happened to escape my notice. The inside of my Dark Room is under constant surveillance. Nancy Drew and her little punkass friend showed up on the cameras, but not you… It’s like you knew.”

Her decision to stay up in the barn and mind her drone, it seemed, had saved her life without her knowing it. Otherwise he would never have left her alone at the party to chase the others. But that wasn’t insight on her part, just dumb luck. Sure, she had a weird feeling about that bunker, but who wouldn’t?

“Then because you were in my blind spot, you called your friends. You warned them just in time. And thanks to you blundering your stupid way in here and coaxing me into coming this way…”

“... They’ve flown,” Brooke finished, her voice flat. “They’ve probably made it out already. Bum luck, huh?”

For as numb with fear as she felt, there was a trace of satisfaction at having worked her way under Jefferson’s skin, intentional or not. She began to understand just why she was still standing here. Why he was still talking. There was something she was more and more sure of, something she surmised early on, which was still true even when Jefferson didn’t wear his daily persona.

Jefferson absolutely has to be the smartest guy in the room, she thought. And if he feels like he’s not, whatever the reason, he has to prove himself. He gets off his game. He starts to make mistakes.

Could she use this? As she wondered, another sharp pang lanced through her head, accompanied by muddled images, some encouraging and others not. On balance, it was more reassuring than before, though she still had no idea where these were coming from all of a sudden. She had a headache now. Jefferson watched dispassionately as she clutched her head.

“Bum luck… Is that all it was? I wonder. Nobody is that lucky. But then again, no matter how good your grades are, you’re still just a high school student.” He shook his head again, discarding the line of thought. “Fine. Take your secrets with you to the grave, then. But I really must commend you, Miss Scott. It’s sixteen years that I’ve been plying my trade, and you’re the first to actually figure it out on your own. I’d call you a worthy adversary, but, well… One of us is about to be a corpse in a junkyard, and from where I’m standing, it certainly doesn’t look like it’ll be me.”

Gee, how flattering. She had left an impression, but was still going to end up with a bullet for her trouble. She had to keep him talking; it bought time for the ABPD to get their asses there, so every second spent was one in her favor. “And, what, you’ll ride off into the sunset, find new girls to poach in another town? I don’t think Max and Chloe are going to stay quiet about what they found, or what almost happened to them tonight for that matter.”

“Yeah, that’s the fly in the ointment, isn’t it?” Jefferson ran a hand back through his hair, leaving it looking untidier than usual. His hand was tight on his gun – was it like that a minute ago? She thought he looked twitchy. “Still, it’ll be some time. Arcadia Bay’s finest don’t exactly move quickly at the best of times. So I’ll be long gone, and I’m sure you’ll already be cold.” Another small, mirthless chuckle rose out of him, a hollow sound. “I don’t know if I’ll last on the run or not, but I certainly intend to try. Either way, my story won’t end here and now. Not like yours.”

Brooke wished he was wrong, but the sound of sirens was still nowhere to be heard. There was no more ground to be gained by stalling. All that was left for her now was to try something, anything, and hope for the best.

It struck her that timing was on her side. One of his hands was off his gun and he was focused on what he was saying, not on what she was doing.

Her body was not on her side. Her left calf was still radiating pain from where she’d probably pulled a muscle a minute ago; running again was out of the question. Jefferson was bigger than her. She wouldn’t win a physical contest.

She was surrounded by junk. The refuse of Arcadia Bay.

She guessed that would just have to do.

Another flash in her mind, clearer, less painful. She pictured herself throwing something into Jefferson’s face, something… Had she seen it before she fell, the image trapped in her subconscious? Her hand found its way behind her back unnoticed, and – yes! There was something cold and smooth, sitting on a cinder block – a beer bottle. She wondered if Rachel or Chloe left it here, once upon a time.

Brooke didn’t try to understand. She hoped, put her all into her throw, and let it fly.

Jefferson didn’t notice in time. The bottle smashed against his face with a meatier thwack than Brooke expected, and he staggered. The gun and flashlight slipped from his hands, each hitting the ground with a clatter. By the time that he recovered his senses, he found Brooke’s hand already reaching for the weapon, and lunged. “You little bitch–”

But Jefferson came up short. Brooke had already straightened up with the gun firmly in her grasp. Though she was slanted, favoring one side, sweating profusely, she had turned the tables. Jefferson stared at her, his face bruised and cut.

“One last surprise, is it?”

“Here’s another for you,” she retorted, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice. Her lips were dry; she ran her tongue across them. “I called the cops on my way up here. They’re already coming. Sorry, Mark. This is where your story ends.”

And he continued staring, his eyes searching, analytical. He breathed out – smiled – and began to move closer.

Brooke backed up a step and held the gun higher, aimed for his head, and he stopped. “Don’t move! I’m not afraid to shoot you, you sick bastard!”

“You’re a clever young lady, Brooke,” Jefferson remarked, “but an awful liar. Look at you. You’re shaking.”

She was. She had to press her hands firmly enough around the gun’s grip to almost hurt, so afraid was she that it would slip from her clammy palms. She was so close to winning. So why was she even more terrified than before?

“So I think I’ll get as close as I want,” he mocked, taking another step. “Feel free to prove me wrong. I doubt you will.”

Her finger twitched, hovering in the air over the trigger as she stared into his eyes. Her whole body felt like jello. Her brain screamed. And she saw in clear relief the trickles of dark blood running down Jefferson’s face, under his cracked glasses, livid in the glow of the fallen flashlight.

Blood on her beak.

The intensity of the recollection stunned her as she finally understood its meaning. I can’t do it. I just… can’t. Which was her last clear thought before her world exploded into pain. She understood after a second that Jefferson had backhanded her across the face, sending her crashing back into the wrecked SUV again. The gun was no longer in her hand. She looked up at him from her place on the ground, eyes wide with horror.

This time, Jefferson spared her no words, utterly expressionless as he looked the gun over in a perfunctory check, and aimed at her.

Mom… Kate… I’m sorry. Brooke screwed her eyes shut.

But no bullet came. An incomprehensible, uneventful moment played out with Brooke’s eyes still defiantly closed to the world. Finally, she could bear the suspense no longer, and blinked them open, finding Jefferson staring in slack-jawed surprise just to Brooke’s left.

She looked up and likewise found herself staring at Max Caulfield. Awake, nose and chin stained with blood, and pissed off. She panted as if from some grave exertion, Jefferson’s gun, somehow, clutched in her hand.

“How…?” This was all that Jefferson had time to ask before a figure moving in the dark behind him swung. There was a loud crack as something heavy and wooden whipped across the back of his skull.

The man’s eyes rolled back and he fell bonelessly on his face, revealing a panting, wild-eyed Chloe, clutching a half-broken baseball bat. She raised it again with a cry of anger, ready to bash the fallen Jefferson’s head in, only for Max to stop her, running over and taking hold of her arm in a gentle but firm grip.

“Chloe,” came Max’s voice, hoarse, tired. When the other girl met her eyes, she said, “It’s over.”

Chloe was frozen, her face twisted in anguish. But she listened to her best friend, dropping the bat, and sagged into Max, burying her face against her head. Brooke wasn’t far behind in the crying department as she heard police sirens, finally, begin to echo up the road to American Rust.

Max led Chloe to where Brooke was still knelt on the ground, and she found herself swaddled in a group embrace.

There were no more bodies in American Rust that night.

Just survivors.

Chapter Text

Friday, October 11th 2013 – Part One [ Brooke ]

After the danger, the excitement, and… the blood, Brooke was unprepared for the crushing boredom of what came after. She barely noticed the arrival of the cops, sweeping through the junkyard with guns and flashlights; her eyes were glued the whole time to Jefferson’s unconscious form, as if he would get up again at any moment. She only tore them away when Max and Chloe were detached from her, a blanket was draped around her shoulders, and an officer’s hands helped her to her feet. Jefferson was being cuffed, last she saw him.

Proper awareness did not return to her until she found herself sitting in the back of a police cruiser, not arrested, but she guessed something of a guest of honor. The blue and red lights strobed silently in a long row – a whole convoy. Brooke stared out the windows at the sight of what must have been every police vehicle in Arcadia Bay. She supposed she had to give them some credit for answering in force.

… They had still been awfully slow, though. She would remain miffed about that for the time being.

Her irreverent thoughts were a welcome distraction from everything else, thoughts she would like to avoid right now. For example: what had really happened back there? What were those strange, feverish flashes that her head was still pounding from (or was that the hit she took)? How had Max done that, seeming to appear out of thin air? She was too exhausted to untangle these mysteries. The last thing she saw before choosing to close her eyes for a moment was the dashboard clock, reading 12:01. It was Friday.

The opening of a car door stole her back to wakefulness after what felt like no time at all. She was sure she’d only blinked, but the clock now said 12:16. An officer was standing by the opened door beside Brooke, offering her a hand. She had expected to find the Arcadia Bay police station standing before her. The sight of the hospital brought a confused frown to her face.

“You were out cold by the time I was done talking with the sergeant and got back to the cruiser,” the cop told her, his chummy tone concealing a tired edge. Brooke had a better look at him and finally identified him as Anderson Berry, the same police officer who had escorted Kate after… She tried to focus on his words instead of her thoughts. “Your friends mentioned you hurt your leg, and that bruise on your face tells a story. Best if we let the doctors take a look at you.”

She traced her fingertips where Jefferson had smacked her and winced, finding it raw with pain. Mutely, Brooke nodded her agreement with Berry’s assessment and let herself be led inside. As she did, a small detail crossed her mind, but an urgent one. She mumbled the words to Berry just before they entered.

“Nathan Prescott. He was wrapped up in this, too. He’s still out there…”

Berry glanced at her. His tiredness showed more in that moment. “Nathan Prescott is dead, Miss Scott.”

She wondered how the news was supposed to make her feel. Relieved? It seemed wrong to feel relieved when a second classmate was dead. Even one like him. It all evened out to a sort of numbness, and Brooke could only reply: “Oh.”

The hospital door swiveled open, and Berry walked Brooke to the reception desk. She found her attention slipping again, staring at her shoes as he spoke to the hospital staff. She supposed that he left at some point, because soon he was gone and she was being asked questions. Yes, she wanted medical attention. Yes, she consented to staying at the hospital for a checkup. Yes, she was designated as a dependent on her mother’s insurance and here was her contact information. She didn’t really try to focus again until she was asked to change into a hospital gown in some other room.

Even that was difficult. Her hands were still shaking. God dammit, Scott, she thought, frustrated. It’s over. You won. If you outsmarted a serial killer, you can put on a stupid gown. And she did, eventually, an exhausting ordeal though it was. She felt acutely embarrassed to have to lean on an orderly’s arm as they escorted her to a free room.

Brooke’s first thought as she settled into her cot was that she couldn’t believe Kate had been dealing with sleeping on one of these for three days. A stray, disbelieving observation which became a startled realization.

She’s still here, isn’t she? They were sharing the same building for the duration of Brooke’s stay, however long that ended up being.

As she had stared down that gun barrel, she had been crushed by the realization that she would fail to keep her promise to Kate. To navigate the uncertain future together. To lean on each other.

Mostly, to be honest with herself, she hated the idea of never seeing Kate smile again.

But she had lived. There were just floors and walls between them now.

A weight lifted from her heart, and Brooke took strength. She felt a little more focused now. She could get through this.

A doctor eventually entered, a graying man with a stout build. He introduced himself, but she didn’t memorize his name, since he exited in a hurry, giving way for a bevy of nurses and specialists who took turns figuring out what was wrong with her. They had a look at her calf muscle (just cramped, it would heal on its own over the next couple of days), the bruise on her face (nothing that would leave a permanent mark), and finally checked for signs of a concussion (nothing conclusive, though she’d be kept overnight just in case).

“You should have seen the other guy,” she mumbled. The nurse putting ointment on her bruise had the courtesy to chuckle.

One last orderly brought a friendly face with him, and the crowd started to thin to give them space. Vera Pham-Scott had been woken up just minutes before, Brooke was sure; she’d never let her hair be that untidy otherwise, and her clothes were frumpled, thrown on in a hurry. Her eyes shone with tears threatening to fall as her gaze settled on Brooke.

Once, Brooke had fooled herself into thinking that she preferred her mom’s absences. Stupid. Now she spread her arms wide and welcomed her closer. She was soon wrapped up in her mother’s embrace, her hand running through Brooke’s hair like it did when she was little.

“My baby…” Sniffing and rubbing her eyes with her wrist, Vera pulled back, fixing Brooke with a disbelieving glare. “Laugh about it tomorrow? Brooke, what on earth were you thinking?”

Brooke winced, taking care in her answer. “My friends had a serial killer after them, and Arcadia Bay’s police like to start off slow and wind it down from there. It was crazy, I know, but what else could I do?”

“You could let them do their jobs. For God’s sake, you’re eighteen. You’re not a detective or a secret commando, you’re a student…”

“So was Rachel Amber,” Brooke mumbled. She felt the temperature drop a couple of degrees from the look her mom gave her after that one, and knew it was a bad idea. “Sorry. Just… being a student wasn’t going to protect me. It wasn’t going to protect any of us.”

“It’s just so unlike you,” Vera went on, brushing Brooke’s bangs out of her face. “What’s happening to you, Brooke?”

If only I knew, she thought, weary. She couldn’t say that, of course. Instead she said, “So much has happened to my friends the last couple of weeks, Mom. So much… absolutely fucked up shit. And every time, the people in authority were useless at best or evil at worst. I couldn’t…” She swallowed. “I couldn’t be a coward anymore, even if it meant I’d be in danger. I had to take a stand. For them.”

Brooke’s mom visibly struggled with this answer, frowning at her, before sighing and bowing her head to press her forehead into Brooke’s for just a moment. “Cục vàng …”

Piece of gold. A way of addressing someone you treasure. It was one of the few Vietnamese phrases Brooke knew by heart, because her mom had been calling her that for all her life. They had never really made much of an effort to speak the language with each other at home, aside from stray words passed down from Brooke’s grandparents. She’d never asked why.

“You’ve grown up while I wasn’t looking.” Tears, glistening, threatened to fall again as Brooke’s mom parted from her again, staring at her face. She was almost smiling. “I feel like I’ve missed so much. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Brooke protested, her voice coming out as a croak from the lump in her throat. “You’re trying. God, I want to try, too. I won’t scare you anymore, I promise. Maybe things can just be normal now. We can be a family.”

Unsurprisingly, this resulted in another hug. After sobbing with relief for a minute, Brooke sniffling as well, her mom reassured her, “I’m not angry, just scared. But I’m still so proud of you. You’re so strong, Brooke… I just hope you won’t have to be again for a while.”

Brooke hoped so, too. At least for the moment, she could afford not to be. Her mother was there for her.

Brooke’s mom wasn’t allowed to stay for long. Her doctor returned shortly to express that the patient needed rest, and well, frankly Brooke could not dispute that. Her mom left her with a kiss on the head and a promise to see her later, and almost right after, Brooke nodded off again. This time her sleep was dreamless.

She wasn’t entirely sure of that much, because when she woke, she could swear she heard that storm from her dreams again. It was real thunder outside, low and rumbling. She could hear rain pelt the glass of her window as periodic gusts of wind drove it against the glass in a noisy fusillade. A look at the clock on the wall showed that it was almost eight o’ clock in the morning.

Sitting up with a yawn, Brooke reflected on the chaos of the past few days and thought about what came next. They had only kept her overnight to make sure she hadn’t attained any surprise health issues from her encounter with Jefferson, so without any having materialized, she supposed she’d be on her way home soon.

There was no word on what to expect from the school side. She was sure Blackwell would close for at least a few days to deal with the fallout of the Jefferson arrest and death of Nathan. Would she have to chill at her house in the meantime or would the dorms stay open? She had no clue.

She paused in her ruminations when a nurse entered, a skinny guy who looked barely older than her. “Has anyone brought you breakfast, Miss Scott?”

“Uh, no. I just woke up.”

The nurse smiled. “Well, it’s up to you, but since you’re being discharged later, you’re free to go down to the cafeteria and mingle with whoever’s there. In case you’d prefer that over staying in here.”

Maybe Brooke would have turned that offer down a couple of weeks ago, but sitting here with nothing but her thoughts for company was less appealing now than it used to be. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

Someone brought her shoes from the locker room and once she’d tied them up, she followed the signs to the cafeteria. It was… a bit less like a school cafeteria than she expected. It was sort of swanky, in fact, and looked to have a lot of different stations with their own types of food. Most were closed, however, except for those offering a breakfast menu. She set a couple of pancakes and an orange on her tray and found an empty table.

As she tucked into her breakfast, Brooke scanned the heads in the cafeteria, a mixture of staff and patients. She was searching for any trace of blue hair, especially with a mousy brunette accompanying it. None to be found.

She still didn’t know anything about Max and Chloe’s situation. Were they here too? Did the cops just take them home? She hoped Chloe wasn’t in trouble for bashing Jefferson in the skull, but she especially worried about Max. She didn’t know if Max had a stroke or what, but after getting a massive nosebleed and passing out, that girl definitely needed a hospital visit more than Brooke did.

“Oh! Brooke!”

Brooke lifted her head and stopped slouching in her chair. It wasn’t either of the girls she was wondering about, but Kate, a tray of food in her hand, looking at her in puzzlement as she walked over.

In lieu of saying hello, Brooke pushed her chair out, stood, and met Kate halfway to pull her into a hug. Kate laughed uncertainly and patted Brooke’s back as she returned the embrace.

“I’ve missed you,” Brooke told her, tamping down her embarrassment.

“I missed you too, but didn’t you just see me yesterday?” Kate regarded her with a curious smile as Brooke released her.

“It feels longer,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Well, I can imagine,” Kate mumbled, lifting a hand. Her fingers stopped just short of Brooke’s face, thinking better of touching the bruise there. Brooke still felt her cheeks warm a little and averted her eyes. “On account of… whatever caused this? I didn’t expect you to end up a patient here, too…”

Brooke stood silent a moment, then shook her head. “Let’s eat first and talk about that after.”

Kate accepted that invitation to sit, still giving Brooke a worried lookover. “At least tell me you’re okay? Nothing serious?”

“No, I’m mostly fine, they should be letting me go later,” she told Kate as she speared a bite of pancake on her fork. “My mom was obviously pretty freaked out, but aside from a bruise and a leg cramp I’ve pretty much got a clean bill of health.”

“That’s a relief,” Kate responded with a sigh, followed by the two sharing a warm, companionable silence, just eating their breakfast together.

It was quiet… mundane… but Brooke found herself cherishing every instant. Feeling so positive despite everything that she’d been through was new for Brooke. And honestly a bit weird. Man, she thought, either my near-death experience shifted my worldview more than I thought or I have brain damage after all.

The wind and rain beat against the large windows on the one side of the cafeteria. There was a nice courtyard outside with a lot of greenery, but the sheets of water rolling down the glass rendered it barely visible. The room was cast in pale gray light, save for a moment where lightning flashed in the distance.

Kate continued to glance up from her breakfast at Brooke with an expression that she couldn’t quite read. No doubt she was still dying to know what landed Brooke in the hospital, but her next remarks were about the weather.

“I heard the hospital staff talking about this. They’re tracking a strong storm that’s coming in off the ocean. I think it took everyone by surprise.”

“Did it?” Brooke regretted that she hadn’t taken a look at the forecast. Her attempts to study the weather anomalies had gone forgotten this morning. Understandably so. Turning her gaze toward the storm outside, Brooke couldn’t help a sense of foreboding, remembering how stormy weather had featured in her dreams of late.

She only realized she’d gotten lost in thought when she felt Kate’s hand on her arm, and met her concerned gaze.

“Brooke… What’s really going on?”

Her shoulders sagged as she quickly dismissed the idea of putting Kate off for any longer. “Let’s take a walk,” she told her, and offered a hand which Kate took as they stood and exited.

Finding spots of quiet and privacy in a hospital is never a particularly easy task, and it took Brooke and Kate a while. They eventually settled on the interfaith chapel, of all places. It was a secluded room in one corner of the hospital’s ground floor, separated from the hallway by heavy glass doors. Rows of sort-of-comfortable chairs with identical blue upholstery were lined in pews of a sort. The two sat in adjacent seats; there was nobody else there.

Unraveling the events of the last week and change took even longer than finding the place did. Brooke spared no detail, or almost none, not wishing to disclose the flashes she experienced in the junkyard. Where everything else was concerned, she felt Kate had a right to know what had happened to both of them – and why.

Brooke laid it out as gently as she knew how, nervous that her blunt manner might make some of it sound harsh. But Kate never reacted poorly; she nodded and prompted Brooke with small questions occasionally, but was otherwise as quiet as a churchmouse. None of Brooke’s efforts could have stopped the blonde’s eyes from misting up as she got nearer to the end, of course, and finally Kate gave in to the urge to cry, supported by Brooke’s extended arm.

“I trusted him,” Brooke could hear Kate say, though her face was buried in her hands.

“A lot of people did,” Brooke answered gently, rubbing her friend’s upper back. “I’m sorry.”

Kate sniffled heavily, dropping her hands to stare at Brooke. “He almost killed you…”

Brooke’s eyes flitted away. She still didn’t want to think about that too hard. “He’s never going to hurt anyone again, Kate. There’ll be justice for Rachel Amber. And for you.”

“And for Nathan,” Kate added in a small voice.

“... Yeah. Guess so.” Brooke especially didn’t want to think about that. She looked back at Kate again and found her drying her eyes.

“You didn’t have to go through all that for me, Brooke.”

“I did,” Brooke disagreed. “I wanted to. You’re… important to me. I don’t like to fight, Kate. But I will, for you. Every time.”

Kate’s eyes shone, a tremulous smile almost crossing her face before it was replaced by a pensive expression. She was leaning a little closer.

“Brooke, I…”

Thump.

The two were cast into darkness. Aside from the light on a first aid station out in the hallway, there was nothing. Without the hum of the power and air conditioning, the heightening whistle of the winds outside was plainly audible.

They both held their breaths for a second until the hospital’s backup generator fired up, and lights slowly returned, one by one. But before any relief could come from it, Brooke was startled by her phone blaring an emergency alert.

She pulled it from her plastic tote bag – helpfully provided by the hospital – and stared with incomprehension at the message she found there.

It seemed that foreboding feeling wasn’t misplaced after all.

Chapter Text

Friday, October 11th 2013 – Part Two [ Brooke ]

The National Weather Service in Portland has issued a tornado warning for:
North Central Tillamook County in Northwestern Oregon...
Western Washington County in Northwestern Oregon...
Until 1045 AM PDT
At 935 AM PDT... National Weather Service Meteorologists were tracking a large and extremely dangerous tornado offshore of Arcadia Bay. Doppler radar showed this tornado moving east at 15 mph.
This is a Tornado Emergency for Arcadia Bay and surrounding areas.
In addition to a tornado, extreme wind gusts are expected with this storm.
Locations impacted include...
Arcadia Bay
Northern Bay City
Tillamook State Forest
Jordan Creek
Gales Creek
This is an extremely dangerous and life threatening situation.
If you cannot get underground, go to a storm shelter or an interior room of a sturdy building now.
Stay away from doors and windows.

“Brooke?” Kate’s worried voice took her attention away from the impossible weather alert on her phone. “What is it?”

“A tornado emergency,” Brooke mumbled back, trying to make sense of it. Was it a false alarm? They barely ever got even wimpy waterspouts, and while tornadoes happened in the Willamette Valley sometimes, she wasn’t sure when the last one to hit coastal Oregon was. She didn’t think a strong one ever had.

This didn’t happen. This never happened.

Except, maybe, for this week, she thought as a distant siren blared outside. Fresh fear and urgency surged through her as she stood from her chair. “You haven’t seen a sign for a storm shelter while staying here, have you?”

Kate shook her head, starting to look worried. “Do you believe the warning?”

“After this week, Kate, I’ll believe anything. This is the most extreme warning the weather service has. They wouldn’t issue it for no reason.”

Kate nodded, standing up, still taking a second to straighten her chair back to its original position despite the circumstances. “Let’s find the hospital staff. They’ll know what to do.”

Brooke’s phone buzzed a few more times in her hand as messages flooded in. She scanned through them as she and Kate exited the chapel together.

Max: Brooke, I don’t have time to explain right now, but the tornado warning is for real and the entire town is in danger. Wherever you are, you need to get somewhere safe now.

Brooke: max? where are you and chloe? what’s with the prophetic warning?

Brooke: hello???

Brooke: god dammit, caulfield.

Brooke let Kate take the lead as she texted. She gave up on waiting for a reply from Max after a second and switched conversations.

Warren: We’re not in Kansas anymore… Are we?

Brooke: more like oklahoma. this has got to be another effect of the anomaly.

Warren: I guess so… So you made it back from whatever mission you flew off on last night?

Brooke: i’ll explain later. sorry about your car, i kind of got put in a police cruiser to the hospital and didn’t have a chance to bring it back.

Warren: Wow. Definitely explain later material right there.

Warren: I’m glad you’re okay.

Warren: Since I can’t go anywhere I’ll stay put here at Blackwell.

Brooke: that’s probably a good thing. it’s a big brick building and the dorm has a basement, that’s about as safe as it gets in this type of weather.

Warren: See you soon, Brooke.

Brooke: see you.

Patients were emerging from their rooms with uncertain faces and nervous demeanors as Brooke and Kate passed them by. The siren continued to sound in the distance, and Kate slipped her hand into Brooke’s again, squeezing it for reassurance. Brooke saw the worried look on her friend’s face and flashed her a nervous smile, then went on texting with one hand.

Mom: Safe where you are?

Brooke: i don’t know yet. kate and i are trying to find the designated storm shelter if there is one.

Brooke: since the house doesn’t have a basement you’re going to want to take cover in the tub in the ground floor bathroom.

Mom: I know, I’ve seen it on TV.

Mom: You think this alert is for real?

Brooke: i think it could be after all the other crazy weather this week.

Brooke: please do it.

Mom: I will. I love you. See you later.

When Brooke put her phone away, she noticed that they had passed into a busier area of the hospital once more, and now as well as patients, there were employees bustling by. Kate waved one down, a nurse carrying a bundle of folders, a cell phone propped between her shoulder and her ear.

“Excuse me, do you–”

“Not right now,” the nurse dismissed brusquely, not slowing down for them. Kate and Brooke looked at each other in disbelief, left in the dust. A glance around the hall showed a chaotic scene, people running this way and that, staff members fielding questions from anxious patients.

Seeing the two of them standing gobsmacked in the middle of the hall, another harried-looking nurse stepped over, a blonde with her hair in a tight tail. “Head back to your rooms, please, there’s an emergency situation–”

Kate sputtered. “But mine’s on the second floor, surely there’s a plan–?”

Brooke cut in, “We need a windowless room, the patients’ rooms aren’t safe–”

“Look, we have procedures for a reason–”

Their voices ran over each other, and even as she argued, Brooke could tell it was a lost cause; the hospital’s usual emergency procedures were no good for this specific type of disaster, and nobody seemed to know what was going on. This was a situation where a lot of people could die.

The standoff was interrupted by another nurse walking up with a concerned frown. She was a little shorter than the blonde with brown skin and dark hair. A doctor followed behind her, skinny, pale and gray with a full beard, looking a bit lost.

“Is something wrong, Tana?” the newly-arrived nurse asked.

The blonde nurse looked relieved. “Anuja. Doctor Sloane. There’s just a little confusion about our emergency procedures, but I’m handling it…”

“She wants us to go back to our rooms even though there’s a tornado bearing down on us,” Brooke cut in, exasperated.

“Normally we would want patients in their rooms for a proper headcount,” Anuja said, rubbing her forehead, “but this is a slightly different situation, and there’s no time for that.”

“Well, we haven’t received any other direction…” Tana started to say.

“Yes, which is the problem we’re dealing with now,” Sloane said, worry creasing his brow. “There’s nothing like this in county history, so we don’t have much choice but to decide our own response on the fly…”

Brooke chewed her lip for a second, fighting for the right words to say. Kate fidgeted beside her, seeming overwhelmed by the exchange.

“Is there a basement?” Brooke asked.

Sloane shook his head. “Not since the old Prescott bomb shelter that got put in back in the fifties was finally removed a few years ago.”

The irony was staggering, really, but Brooke had no time to groan. “Then I think our best bet is probably the stairwells, especially the centrally located ones. The more walls there are between us and the weather, the safer we’ll be.”

“Stairwells? How are they supposed to help?” Tana questioned.

“They’re some of the most well-reinforced parts of the structure and have no windows,” Anuja informed her, seeming a bit impatient as she set her hands at her hips. “That’s what they did at the hospital in Joplin a couple of years ago, and it saved lives.” Then she looked at Brooke. “You know a bit about weather, huh?”

Brooke shuffled and rubbed her arm. “Um. I dabble.”

“Well, speaking as an Iowa girl and no stranger to storms myself, I think it’s a good plan.” Anuja smiled encouragingly. “What’s your name?”

“Brooke. Brooke Scott.” She tapped the arm of Kate beside her. “This is my friend Kate Marsh.”

“Hi,” Kate greeted with a meek wave.

Anuja looked at Sloane. “I think we should adopt Miss Scott’s advice, Peter.”

He blinked once and then nodded. “Yes. Quite right. Let’s get these people moving.” He pulled his pager off of his belt and walked away, Anuja and a subdued Tana peeling away to also go about their appointed tasks.

“Wow, I…” Kate began to remark, blinking. “... You handled that really well.”

“I’ve kind of gotten used to knowing better than the adults around me this past week,” Brooke answered. Not very humble of her, she knew. But she didn’t exactly give a shit just then.

“Let’s go find one of those stairwells,” Kate suggested, tugging Brooke’s sleeve. She nodded and followed her along.

A heavy metal door separated the hallway from the stairwell that Brooke and Kate chose to take shelter in. It clicked shut with a loud echo behind them as they took in the sight. Fluorescent lights glowed over the series of hard concrete steps, and a poster on the wall showed a diverse collection of patients holding hands. Looking around it, Brooke struggled to understand how you could fit any large number of people in there, but accepted it as their best hope anyway. She and Kate moved to a step near the bottom and sat together, holding hands for reassurance.

“We’re going to make it,” Brooke told Kate, to reassure herself as much as her friend. “Our story doesn’t end here. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Kate smiled, her hand nervously quivering in Brooke’s. “I know.”

They may have been the first, but they were far from the last, and Brooke found herself proved wrong about the capacity of the stairwell. They were forced to move and squeeze closer a few more times as patients and staff streamed in from both their floor and the ones above, filling the space with anxious, sometimes ailing bodies. Some coughing, some crying, many anxiously muttering to each other. The space felt stuffy as it filled more and more, and the winds outside keened higher and higher.

The wait was unbearable. Brooke wondered the whole time whether her advice would actually help. Intellectually she knew that this was one of the safest places to be in a storm like this, but there was no way to actually know for sure what was about to happen.

She hoped she hadn’t spelled the doom of herself and everybody there.

After a minute, the crowd grew a little quieter, as if sensing something coming. Eyes turned toward the lights shaking and flickering on the ceiling, the high whistle of the gales outside giving way to a low rumble. Brooke felt it and swallowed a lump in her throat. She had experienced a handful of small earthquakes growing up in the Pacific Northwest, and this sensation, this vibration deep in her bones, felt rather like they did. A gut-wrenching fear settled in her, and as she felt her ears start to pop, she heard herself announcing:

“It’s here.”

The beast answered her by growing louder, and the jet turbine noise was joined by the sound of hard material pelting against something in the distance, like a hail of bullets against a wall, then by the shattering of glass. The last is what made some of the occupants of the stairwell remember to scream in fear, and just as they did, doorways could be heard slamming open further up the stairwell. In fitful gusts, a strong wind blasted down the stairs while the whole building shuddered.

A nurse and a doctor supported each other, struggling to remain standing upright among the pool of patients at the bottom of the stairwell.

Two men guarded a woman and baby from the maternity ward with their bodies.

Brooke clung to Kate with all her might and didn’t let go. Though she dreaded to look, she opened her eyes, seeing papers fluttering freely through the air, the poster torn, the door they came through wobbling, and Kate’s lips moving with her eyes shut. Maybe she was praying.

Brooke could not hear the praying, or the screaming. All she could hear was the roar from her dreams.

All she could do was wish she had Kate’s faith.

In the hearts of the strongest tornadoes, the laws of physics become a mere suggestion. Trees are snapped, uprooted, and debarked. Brick buildings are toppled, their timbers splintered, then granulated into small particles. Rebar ties are snapped and 300-pound parking blocks are shifted and hurled. Large trucks are reduced to skeletons, wrapped around bare trunks and bent poles.

All human construction, no matter how carefully laid, is reduced to nothing in the face of nature’s most extreme winds. Lives are destroyed.

Unpredictable things also occur. One block may be destroyed and the next one untouched. Things which are lifted into the air might somehow come back down safely. These things people are tempted to call miracles.

It might have been subvortices of the twister narrowly missing the hospital. It might have been the fact that they sat near the edge of the tornado’s path. It might have been a roll of the dice. It might have been the hand of a god at work.

Brooke and Kate would never know one way or the other. All they knew for sure is that when the storm passed them by, it did not take them with it. Their story did not end there.

Not everyone was so lucky.

It was a dazed and drenched group that slowly began to trickle out of the stairwell after the last wind and thunder had gone. Some sobbed gratefully that they made it through, but most were still in stunned silence, surveying the damage. It was clear that intense winds had made it through the doors and windows of much of the hospital, sending deadly debris flying, which now laid on the floors in incongruous piles. A couple of interior walls had caved in. In one spot, something that looked like a lamp post from the parking lot had been driven through a door. If there was any doubt before that taking proper shelter had saved their lives, there wasn’t any now.

Brooke didn’t relish that particular victory. She was too stunned herself, staring around at the disarray of the formerly neat hospital, wondering how the rest of the town fared.

She wasn’t the only one. People naturally began to gravitate into the waiting room, where chairs were broken and toppled and papers coated the floor. Their hopes of exiting to see what the outside looked like were thwarted by concerned hospital staff and security barring the way, whose presence caused some agitation among the patients.

“My family! Oh God, my family!”

“Please, my daughter goes to Blackwell, I need to know–!”

“Mrs. Christensen, please, it’s not safe–”

Brooke stood back, Kate coming up alongside, and they beheld the scene together.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Kate said, gripping her own wrist tight. “It’s like a bad dream.”

“Yeah,” Brooke agreed, her mind distant. “It is.” She stared past the crowd at the light streaming through the broken doors, a dull throbbing in her head. It had subsided overnight as she slept, but now it seemed to return, insistent.

Before she knew what she was doing, her feet started to move.

“Brooke? What are you doing?” Kate called after her, alarmed.

Brooke stopped and looked back at her with a pained look. “... My mom. I need to…” Then she shook her head, offering no further explanation. She had to go. She had to.

“Brooke!” Kate tried to call again, her voice vanishing in the hubbub. Brooke felt a pang of guilt, but did not stop.

In all the chaos and the bodies pushing against each other, the short girl managed to evade detection, slipping past the distracted orderlies and stepping into the light.

Her sneakers crunched over broken glass as she emerged into the hospital parking lot. At least that’s what it must have been. There were enough toppled, smashed, and warped cars to suggest as much. Concrete parking blocks were shifted out of place. When she briefly looked back over her shoulder, she saw that every window on this side of the hospital was smashed, and the roof was partly caved in at one corner.

It was incongruously bright and sunny now, with the barest gray clouds just rolling away to the east. Puddles of rain sat among the wreckage.

Her calf muscle had been healing quickly since the night before, but still ached. She forced herself to walk anyway, limping out to the road, where few of the tall trees which had lined it before seemed to have survived unscathed. Those that stood were missing many branches, while Brooke was forced to maneuver around toppled trunks splayed across the road as she made her way to the top of the hill separating the hospital from the south side of town.

As soon as she surmounted it and gazed down into the lowland against the Bay proper where the town should have sat, Brooke froze. She looked it over a few times in quick succession, searching for anything familiar and failing to understand the evidence of her own eyes.

Where’s Arcadia Bay?

[ ♪ ]

Like a ghost, Brooke stepped gingerly through a layer of rubble where a town used to be. There was less of it than she thought there should be, some of it arranged by the wind into rows following the path of the storm. There were many spots which were instead shockingly bare, buildings stripped to concrete foundations, even bare soil exposed where grass used to be.

A glance up the hill to the east showed no signs of Blackwell’s dormitory or clock tower. She told herself that the tallest parts may have toppled, leaving the rest alone, that her classmates might be okay. Her path did not take her close enough to tell one way or the other.

The smell on the air was a strange mixture of rain, upturned earth, leaked gas, and death. There was no sound but the hush of a gentle breeze and the distant surf.

It didn’t take her long to see the first bodies. She did her best not to stare, not wishing to recognize anybody. But they were hard to ignore, increasing in number as she passed through what must have been downtown an hour before.

She needn’t have worried. Few were recognizable anyway. Her stomach turned, and part of the way through her trek, she bent to throw up her breakfast in a ditch by the side of the road.

Once Brooke wiped her mouth and picked herself up again, she continued on her way. She didn’t even feel the ache in her leg anymore. She was numb all over. Numb to all of it.

She wasn’t there yet. There was still a chance.

Did hours pass or was it just minutes? Avoiding road blockages and downed power lines, she felt herself retracing her steps several times over, unable to recognize any landmarks, navigating only by the lonely sight of the lighthouse, still stubbornly standing on the bluff north of the Bay. But what she saw, even when she navigated rightly, made little sense. This couldn’t be the neighborhood she grew up in; there was nothing there.

Though she denied it and denied it, and counted the plots on the road one by one, their foundations wiped clean, she kept coming again to the same ruin. The same unwelcome sight.

There was no line of cookie-cutter homes. No whitewashed exterior. No neatly trimmed lawn.

No house. No first floor bathroom. No Mom.

Realization crashed over Brooke. Her lip wobbled, her eyes blurred. The numbness cracked and fell away like old paint, exposing a fresh coat of pain underneath.

Brooke gave in to the truth, fell to her knees in what used to be her front yard, and screamed to the sky.

There was nobody alive around to hear it.

The birds that came to it through the air

At broken windows flew out and in,

Their murmur is more like the sigh we sigh

From too much dwelling on what has been. 

Yet for them, the lilac renewed its leaf,

And the aged elm, though touched with fire;

And the dry pump flung up an awkward arm;

And the fence post carried a strand of wire.

For them, there was really nothing sad.

But though they rejoiced in the nest they kept,

One had to be versed in country things

Not to believe the phoebes wept.

[ Robert Frost - "The Need of Being Versed in Country Things" ]

Chapter Text

Friday, October 11th 2013 – Part Three [ Kate ]

The full scope of what had happened only dawned slowly on Kate, not all at once. It was hard to tell just how dire the situation was, how many lives had been changed, while she was trapped within the walls of the hospital. She had obeyed the hospital staff and stayed put, understanding that even if the hospital was damaged, whatever mess the outside had been turned into must be worse. She could afford to wait, though after Brooke took off, she hated every minute of it.

She was only able to steal glances through the broken windows while she wondered anxiously when Brooke would come back. Kate had warned the hospital staff right away that she had wandered off, but short-handed as they were, they weren’t equipped to do anything about it. There was a hollow pit in her stomach. She prayed for Brooke’s safety, but as usual, she was answered by silence.

Of all times, why can’t You answer me now? she thought with acute frustration, before feeling a pang of shame for getting short with the Almighty. Sorry, she added timidly.

While Kate worried alone, vehicles rolled in from Bay City to the south, cherry pickers, pickups, and tow trucks among them. They set about clearing the hospital parking lot of debris and smashed cars, the sound of chainsaws suggesting attempts to further clear the road of fallen trees.

A much larger group of trucks appeared once the parking lot was clear, spearheaded by the Oregon National Guard. Kate and the other patients watched with amazement as the military vehicles rolled in one after another, men and women in fatigues spilling out of them. They carried all manner of supplies and gear with them, and set about putting up some kind of station in the lot, slinging tarps over poles to create a covered area. Others drove in the direction of town, followed by trucks from the Bay City Fire Department and what Kate assumed were civilian volunteers from the surrounding communities.

Soon after, the hospital staff finally let the patients out to access food and water in the area set up by the National Guard, allowing Kate to stretch her legs a little and watch the vehicles and people come and go. She perked up attentively when the first National Guard and emergency crews to go down into the town came back, then felt a pang of anxiety and fear as she saw their faces. They ranged from stony dismay, to stunned horror, to looking outright ill. She could imagine the destruction they beheld, but she had no way of knowing whether the reality or her imagination was worse.

They brought the injured back with them – but too few. Far too few. One truck came back with just two people in it, holding onto each other and shaking as they were escorted to the tents by the soldiers. There was a sinking feeling in Kate’s gut as the trucks started to slow to a trickle.

Then, after a gap of five minutes without another arrival, one more truck brought back someone else, and Kate forgot for a moment about the bigger picture. Two National Guard soldiers stepped out, then retrieved a slight figure from the back who walked between them at an unsteady gait, holding onto their arms for support.

It was Brooke. At the sight of her stumbling through the camp, no matter how dirty and disheveled, Kate considered her prayers belatedly answered. She still couldn’t quite feel entirely satisfied, seeing how out of sorts Brooke looked, and especially not once she remembered that Brooke had gone into town to look for her mom.

She came back alone, was the heartbreaking thought that went through Kate’s mind.

She wanted to go to Brooke, but her friend was ushered away, probably for another checkup, or to get her name on the list of survivors as Kate had several minutes before. She watched the faint traces of Brooke’s red hair dye disappear into the sea of heads with a forlorn feeling.

Kate thought to herself that she should have prayed for more, perhaps. Prayed sooner. Prayed more sincerely. Maybe Brooke’s mom would have come back if she had. Then she felt selfish for having this thought. God’s ways were not hers to understand, a prim voice in her head that sounded like her mother reminded her. Besides which, she was alive. So many others had survived, too. She should be grateful.

What did it mean that so many had died? She overheard an emergency worker say that there were three hundred survivors in the camp now, and she knew Arcadia Bay’s population was about twelve hundred people. Something like half of the survivors were just from the hospital.

Kate was still grappling with the scale of the death and destruction when one last truck finally rolled to a stop. As she watched, a larger group of survivors emerged, and her eyes widened as she recognized them. They were students from Blackwell. With a mixture of thrill and apprehension, she identified them all at a distance. Dana, Trevor, and Justin were toward the fore. Behind them walked Victoria, Taylor, and Logan. Dana and Trevor held hands, while Victoria and Taylor leaned on each other for support.

All shared identical, dazed looks, and all were covered in scrapes, bruises, and mud. But they were alive, if a somewhat motley crew. Kate chose to feel elation and not worry in that moment, and raced over. As she did, she saw Dana’s eyes light up, and she opened her arms as Kate crashed into her at full force for a hug.

“Dana!” Kate exclaimed, more or less immediately starting to cry as she latched onto the taller girl.

Dana was no slouch in the hugging department herself, freeing her hand from Trevor’s to embrace Kate right back. “Hey, Katie…”

“Hi Kate,” came Trevor’s greeting, chased by Justin’s simple “Hey.” Both of the skaters were more subdued than usual, but still offered Kate faint smiles.

From the back, only Taylor managed to stammer, “H-... hi.” Victoria and Logan just greeted her with matching awkward stares. Kate let her gaze pass over them from where her head was, for the moment, resting against Dana’s shoulder. She wasn’t sure how her expression looked to them, but they both broke eye contact and looked away.

Pulling away from Dana a little, she wiped her eyes and told the group at large, “I’m so happy you’re all here… I was beginning to worry…” When she saw their attention turning past her, Kate paused and looked over her shoulder.

Brooke was walking up to the group with a somewhat surprised look on her face. Somebody had given her a bathrobe, which she wore over her dirty hospital gown. Her hands were stuffed in the pockets. It brought to mind her habitual hoodies and made her look a little more like herself, but Kate couldn’t miss that there was still just something missing behind her eyes that was there before.

“Oh… hey. You guys made it.” Her affect was usually a bit flat, and now was no exception. Her voice was just perhaps a little more listless than normal.

Victoria, of all of them, spoke first, frowning at Brooke like she was a puzzle to solve. “Scott? What the hell were you doing in the hospital?”

Brooke gestured carelessly at the bruise still evident on her face. “Blackwell’s esteemed photography teacher turned out to be a serial killer, and when I ended up in his path, he gave me this.”

Victoria opened her mouth, closed it again, and was silent for a second. Kate had never seen her at such a loss for words. “I heard– I heard he got arrested, but I thought it was just a rumor…”

“Nope,” Brooke said, popping the ‘P’. “Painfully real. Emphasis on the painful part.” She met Kate’s eye. “He’s not here, is he? I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to put him in the same hospital as you.”

Feeling a little exposed by the question, Kate just shook her head mutely.

Brooke accepted the answer with a nod. “I bet they transferred him to Portland overnight. There’s no way he didn’t need medical attention after Chloe bust his head open.”

That won a round of bewildered stares from the others, except for Kate who had heard the whole story already. She was busy watching Brooke with a wary eye, wondering how she could keep her voice so steady after all of this.

Brooke continued. “If we’re lucky, maybe they decided to let him stew in a cell overnight regardless and he got sent on an express trip to Oz. Not like it matters in the end.”

“Not that it matters?” Dana echoed, a bit of edge entering her voice. “It sounds an awful lot like it matters to me. Why are you so blasé about all that?”

Brooke looked away, slowly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “The town he terrorized is gone. The body of the girl he got killed is… probably gone, in all this. It was all just… small. Insignificant. Mother Fucking Nature had the final say on the whole thing. Now it all seems… meaningless.”

“It matters to us,” Victoria interjected, a little peevish.

“Yeah, his students. The school he left behind. What school? We’re the only survivors.”

“Brooke, don’t say that!” Kate admonished, her eyes widening. She looked to Dana for clarity. “Are… Do you think there will be more Blackwell students coming after you guys?”

The mood among the six of them, if anything, just turned gloomier. Victoria looked down, her eyes hooded, while Trevor shuffled awkwardly. Dana winced and met Kate’s gaze, shaking her head slowly. “I… I don’t think so.”

The answer felt like ice water for Kate, whose breaths came up short for a moment. “Alyssa… Juliet…” Her gaze passed toward Victoria and Taylor, no less sympathetic. “Courtney?”

Only another round of shaken heads answered her, and Kate swayed a little as the magnitude of it all washed over her.

Brooke looked over the group with that same dead eye, and asked, “How did it happen?”

Dana wet her lips with her tongue, looking toward the sky, as if worried another storm was going to drop on them at any moment. “We were… me and Juliet, I mean. We were watching Trevor and Justin skateboarding outside the dorm. Victoria, Taylor and Courtney were out there too. And… Warren was there.”

Kate’s eyes flicked toward Brooke again. Her reaction was barely perceptible. Empty, Kate thought. Oh, Brooke…

When Brooke did not react strongly, Dana found strength to go on. “It was getting windy and dark… And then our phones went off with the warning. We looked down the hill toward the Bay, expecting to see a funnel or a cone, but… it didn’t look anything like in the movies. It was just… this wall. This black wall. It looked like smoke on the ground, rolling toward us. So we all headed inside to shelter in the basement. Logan, I guess, was just hanging out on the first floor?”

The boy finally spoke up, his usual machismo and confidence gone. “I was studying.”

Dana nodded at the input. “We all crowded in, and just a few minutes later, it was on us… God, it was the scariest thing I’ve ever heard. Like the entire world was collapsing on top of us. We could hear the dorm being ripped apart.” Then she paused, taking a shaky breath, rubbing her face. “The door to the basement… the latch was coming loose, and it was going to swing open. Warren… I don’t even know what made him think to do it. Maybe he was just the closest. He ran up to hold it shut. And he did… for a minute at least.”

Brooke finally reacted, but only insofar as to drop her gaze and stare at her shoes, motionless.

“He held it– the door. Strength I don’t think anyone knew he had. But… eventually the hinges gave, and… the door opened and he was just… gone. Just gone…” Dana’s voice broke on a small sob. Trevor reached out and rubbed her shoulder while she tried to regain her composure. “And the winds did get in, just for a bit. We all held on, but Courtney and Juliet… I don’t know what happened to them. I just don’t know. Finally it stopped, and we had half of a collapsed building on us. It took them a while to dig us out.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kate said in a small, broken voice, addressing it to all of them at once. What else could she say?

All eyes then turned to Brooke, who still hadn’t uttered a peep since the story began. She was still staring at her shoes when she finally broke the silence, saying: “... Stupid.”

“What is?” Taylor asked, tentative, like she was afraid to know the answer. Brooke had spoken in a mumble, and the group were straining to hear.

“He was,” Brooke said, a little louder. “So stupid. Why would he…? Running to save the day like that…”

Dana looked like she was going to say something, her lips tightening. But it was Victoria who answered instead, vicious in a way that was nothing at all like her usual brand. It was honest anger, heated.

“It wasn’t stupid. He was a hero, he saved our lives at the cost of his. It was good. It was decent.”

And, like a volcano who had only showed faint tremors of warning, Brooke exploded. “There’s nothing good or heroic about Warren being fucking dead! He was worth a thousand of you Vortex ghouls! A million! Maybe you should have died instead!”

Victoria was stunned into inaction and silence by that. Taylor looked like she was going to cry, and Logan clenched his fists. Dana, caught between being shocked and fuming, glared at Brooke.

Even Kate, standing apart, looked at her friend like someone entirely different was standing in her place. “Brooke… don’t say that.”

“What the fuck, Scott?” Victoria finally managed.

Brooke worked her jaw. “... Whatever,” she said, after the tense silence dragged on for a second longer. “Whatever! None of it matters. He’s gone. Just like everything else.” And she stormed away.

Kate watched her form retreat into the crowd, then turned back to the others, desperate to apologize for her. “She… Her mom was killed in the storm, and… she’s had a terrible week.”

“And we’re all very sorry for her,” Dana said, sounding more tired than before, “but that’s no excuse to rip our heads off just for still being here.”

“That was scary, man,” Justin muttered.

“Go figure, the Queen of Salt rears her ugly head again,” Victoria observed snidely. That transgressed Dana’s tolerance despite them supposedly being in agreement, and her warning glare silenced the Chase heiress again, who crossed her arms tightly and looked defiantly off toward the woods.

“I know,” Kate assured them. “I know. She’ll come to her senses soon.” She hoped.

Dana gave her a sad smile, then gestured to the skater boys. “We should get all… checked in and cleaned up. Catch up later, ‘kay?”

She and Kate shared another quick hug before she went off, Trevor and Justin following with waves to Kate. Logan, stiff and awkward, followed them at a distance after a moment.

Lingering, Victoria gave Kate an unreadable look, then scurried along, leaving only Taylor, who looked tortured by something, wringing her hands. “Kate, I… I didn’t get a chance to send a card or anything… I’m so…”

Kate, who truly did not have it in her to deal with this whole thing again on today of all days, stepped up and gently patted Taylor’s arm. “Taylor. Breathe. Your mom is here and she’s fine. I think she’s anxious to see you.”

Taylor’s eyes widened, and she nodded urgently. “... You’re too good for us, Kate Marsh.” With that earnest pronouncement, she hurried off, leaving Kate to sigh, appreciating just a moment of quiet before going off to find Brooke again.

As Kate went, friendly faces greeted her. Patients from the ward she’d been staying in, who had gotten used to her presence over the past few days, exchanged pleasantries and smiles. There was even someone from her Meals on Wheels route who had made it through the town’s devastation and offered her a hug.

But while she exchanged hellos and smiles and hugs with them, her eyes were searching for someone else, her attention far away. God help her, even at a time like this, she couldn’t stop thinking about Brooke.

She rationalized it by pointing out to herself that Brooke needed her now more than ever, so it was only natural for her to be preoccupied. (So take that.) The idea of her having to be alone after losing her mother was just unbearable to Kate, who redoubled her search.

Eventually, she found Brooke sitting on an as-yet unopened crate, just a short distance from the tent where refreshments were being passed out. She had a bagel in her hand, tucked in a napkin, but was just staring at it, her legs kicking over the side. When Kate came up to lean her hip on the crate beside her and look up at her, Brooke finally lifted her gaze.

“... I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

“I could never be,” Kate assured Brooke, meaning it. But there was still a point she had to raise. “That wasn’t really like you back there…”

Brooke searched Kate’s face, but Kate couldn’t parse her reaction to the probing; the other girl wore a blank mask that she could not see through. “Wasn’t it? It’s just another case of me losing my temper and acting like a fucking asshole. It happens all the time.”

“You’ve been better lately,” Kate disagreed, resting her hand on Brooke’s wrist. “You’ve mended fences, and been more patient with people. You aren’t an… an asshole. You’re a good person.”

“So, what. I’m relapsing?” Brooke wondered. “Maybe I just haven’t changed as much as you thought I did. Maybe none of it was real.”

“Of course it was real,” insisted Kate, shaking her head, desperate to convince Brooke of the truth, at least as she had experienced it. “I was there every step of the way, Brooke. I saw it. I… I felt it. I’m here now, alive today, because you’re a good person.”

As Brooke stared at her, Kate saw her jaw work, traces of vulnerability entering her eyes again. “... Maybe,” she allowed in a small voice, “maybe. But I don’t… I feel like I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t right now.” Just barely, she leaned into Kate’s touch, some of the tension leaving her body. “There’s so much I took for granted. And all these strange things… Then today…” She wasn’t making much sense. She stopped herself, then said a bit more coherently, “I feel like I’m floating outside, just watching my body work without me. Letting it work on this… shitty, miserable autopilot. The autopilot wants to lash out and hurt people, to give them some idea of what it’s like. I want to stop it, but… I don’t know how to come back.”

Kate’s heart ached as she realized that helping Brooke with all this might be beyond her power. Before she could ruminate on that and reply, the sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. She looked and saw that same doctor from earlier, Dr. Sloane, strolling up. At his side was another older gentleman in a white coat, rounder in his features. “Hello there,” the stranger greeted in a warm, plummy voice. “You’re Brooke Scott, yes?”

Brooke blinked up at him and nodded slowly. “... Yeah, that’s me.”

“I’m Dr. Walter Shevchuk, the director of this hospital.”

“And I assume you remember me from earlier. Dr. Peter Sloane.” He smiled kindly, before deferring to his boss, who continued.

“Now, I know this is a difficult time, but while I had a spare moment among all this chaos, I wanted to express my deepest gratitude.”

This seemed to hold Brooke’s attention, and she looked a little more alert than a second before, albeit confused. Kate kept her delicate hold of Brooke’s wrist, which the other girl did not rebuke. Brooke asked, “Are you talking about the stairwell thing?”

“Indeed,” Shevchuk said, smiling. “Now, it’s clear we weren’t prepared for the type or scale of this disaster. Weather events like this simply don’t happen in our region… Well, until today. But based on what Dr. Sloane and others have told me, young lady, you knew the best thing to do in our situation and you weren’t afraid to speak up about it. I’m proud to report that everybody in the hospital survived, and it’s thanks to your quick thinking. You saved a lot of lives today.”

Brooke was silent for a second, and Kate passed her a worried look, wondering if another outburst would come. But though Brooke appeared far from happy and excited at the news, she at least just looked thoughtful, and a bit awkward. “... It’s fine, sir. I just wanted to help.”

“Of course, of course. Now there’s not much hope of the hospital being operational anytime soon, but if there is anything we can do to acknowledge you for your heroic efforts…”

This made Brooke shut down again, averting her eyes from the doctors. “No, I… I’d rather not. I don’t want… a big production made out of it. Please.”

“That’s quite understandable,” said Shevchuk, sympathetic. He looked between the girls, smiled again, and nodded. “Be safe, and let our staff know if you need anything.”

“We will,” Kate promised to spare Brooke the awkwardness. She watched the doctors walk off, then glanced at her friend again. “Do you… want to talk about that?”

After a second’s hesitation, trying to hold it back out of reluctance or defiance, the floodgates opened and Brooke let it spill out. “I’m sick of being a hero. Of being congratulated. Sure, it’s nice to do good… E–... especially for you, Kate, don’t get me wrong!” She hastened to add that, and, mollified by Kate’s understanding smile, went on. “But I’ve had enough drama and–... and danger for one lifetime. I want things to go back to normal.”

Brooke’s eyes were starting to mist up. “I thought they were about to. I thought me and my mom could…” She was wracked by an inhaling breath, trying to hold back a sob. “But now things can never be normal again. She’s gone. There aren’t enough Blackwell students left to even fill one classroom. There’s been so much suffering…” Sniffling, she looked at Kate, imploring her for some sort of reassurance as she asked: “What does your religion have to say about this? Why do bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it?”

But Kate wasn’t sure that she could reassure Brooke in a moment like this. She thought of Job, his sons and daughters swept away by a mighty wind that destroyed his house. She had thought about his trial before the Lord more than once over the last week, wondering if she was also being tested, but it seemed more apt a point of comparison now than ever. The resolution of that story had no easy answers, and neither did she.

“We don’t know,” Kate admitted. “Nobody does but God. He has a path chosen for us. We just… can’t see where it leads.”

Brooke was quiet for a moment, absorbing that. Finally she said, “That’s cold comfort.”

Kate’s shoulders sagged. “... Yeah. It is.”

Brooke looked down at where her hand was still joined with Kate’s and gave up, leaning her head to rest against hers. Kate felt her heart speed up a little – but no. Now was not the time to confront that. She focused on Brooke’s words to discard her own troublesome thoughts. “You’re right about one thing, Kate. I don’t know where I’m going anymore. What am I supposed to do now?”

And Kate thought for a moment, the seed of an idea growing in her mind. Yes, it could work. I just… have to not think about the ways it could be awkward. It’s the least I can do. Aloud, she said as she leaned back again to look Brooke in the eye, “I think I can help you. Just… promise to be open-minded?”

Brooke blinked at her, but nodded slowly, and listened.

Chapter Text

Sunday, October 13th 2013 [ Brooke ]

The camp and field hospital on the outskirts of what used to be Arcadia Bay gradually wound down as the weekend passed, with those survivors who could afford to do so slowly trickling out to reunite with loved ones elsewhere. Those who couldn’t, who had no one, lingered until the state could organize a proper response for them.

Emergency workers and volunteers continued to come and go. A shipment of donated clothes had been especially appreciated by those who had lost everything to the storm. Brooke felt a little more human again when she pulled on a secondhand hoodie, the dirty clothes from the junkyard which she’d worn to the hospital stuffed in the bottom of a donated duffel bag.

And eventually, of course, someone came for Kate. When they did, Brooke went with her, leaning her head against the car window as she sat. Rolling away from the place she once called home, Brooke reserved an especially doleful stare for the familiar going-away sign at the town limits.

Another great day in Arcadia Bay!

It receded in the rear view mirror and was gone.

After almost an hour heading south on Route 101 with Kate furtively holding Brooke’s hand in the back seat the whole way, they finally pulled off to stop at a restaurant just around dinner time. The diner was a bit dingy inside, with retro-fifties decor that was probably already aging when Brooke was born. It smelled like grease and vinyl, and reminded her of a slightly shittier Two Whales.

“... immense destruction and loss of life…”

They had squeezed into a booth, Brooke on the one side, Kate and her father on the other. Once she’d managed to stop being miserable and selfish for a minute back at the camp, Brooke had worried about Kate’s family, only to learn that they didn’t live in the Bay and were just fine. Kate had grown up in Arcadia Bay, but her family now lived near Lincoln City.

“... toll since the infamous Tri-State Tornado of 1925…”

Mr. Marsh was not quite what Brooke expected. She hadn’t exactly spent much time around churches growing up. What did she think he’d be? Some kind of fire and brimstone preacher? Instead she found his personable and open demeanor familiar in its resemblance to Kate’s, even though his bespectacled face didn’t look very much like hers.

“... more than a hundred still unaccounted for…”

Brooke’s appetite was still… inconsistent. She had barely eaten anything in the last couple of days, and the smell of a hamburger was definitely enticing. She just had to wait for her stomach to stop doing flips. As she did, Mr. Marsh, who had given her plenty of time with her thoughts, finally spoke.

“I suppose I should start by saying that I think you’re a remarkable young woman.” His tones were gentle, another thing that put her in mind of Kate. “What you did for our Katie… It’s the sort of thing that can never fully be repaid. So when she told us about what happened to Blackwell and to your home…”

Brooke nodded along. But her eyes were turning away, hopelessly distracted, frustration broiling below the surface. Her fist balled up under the table.

“... 318 miles per hour, comparable in power to May’s El Reno…”

“Could you turn that shit off?” she called to the guy manning the diner counter. A couple other patrons turned their heads to stare, and the man gave her the stink eye, but after a second he switched the TV set behind the counter from CNN over to the Portland Timbers game, grumbling under his breath as he did.

Her face was flushed with belated embarrassment by the time she turned back to Kate and her dad. “... Sorry,” Brooke mumbled, feeling self-conscious about the first impression she was making for herself.

And, huh, there was that familiar look of worry and compassion. She wasn’t used to getting it in stereo.

“Don’t worry about it, Brooke,” Mr. Marsh replied, smiling slightly for a moment and then dismissing the matter entirely to return to his original track. “My point is that while making this decision took some discussion between my wife and I, it seemed like a foregone conclusion. We wouldn’t let you be homeless after everything you’ve done for our family.”

Brooke felt a lump rise in her throat, honestly touched by his sincerity. Her emotions were still raw, and while this couldn’t make up for everything – all those things she was trying desperately not to think about at that moment – it was still a massive relief. “Thank you,” she managed eventually in a small, shaky voice.

“Why don’t you try to eat before we get into the particulars?” he offered gently. When Brooke nodded, he sat back and opened his phone to check some messages.

Kate smiled at Brooke again, and this time she tried to return it, before looking at the other girl’s glass. “Uh. Can I have a bit of your milkshake?”

“Sure,” Kate agreed easily, passing it over.

Brooke sipped it. Pure vanilla. She wasn’t surprised by that in the least. It went down easier than she thought the burger might, and her stomach didn’t do any flips. Encouraged, she passed it back and finally picked up her burger to eat.

It was easy enough to do when there was good news to be had, and no reminders of Arcadia Bay in earshot, just soccer. She had no idea what the announcer was hollering about, the voice tinny in the background, but whatever sportsball travesty was transpiring, it was preferable to what she was overhearing before.

Mr. Marsh set his phone down, looking again at Brooke. “So, I wanted to go over a few things before you come to live with us. Nothing too crazy, don’t worry. We just have some house rules that we’d like you to be attentive to while you’re staying here.”

Brooke had managed to finish her burger. She wiped her hands on her napkin and sat up straighter as she listened. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

“We have a schedule taped up on the fridge for splitting the household chores. Everyone has an equal share. Having three kids in the house made that a necessity.” He chuckled quietly, trading an amused look with Kate. “More so now with Kate back and you moving in, of course. Many hands make light work, though.”

Brooke nodded along. She would feel like a shitty house guest if she didn’t help around the place a little, so that much, she felt, went without saying.

“There’s also the matter of language. Now I’m aware you might not be used to this, so I don’t expect you to change your habits overnight. But we prefer to keep our language clean in the household and don’t blaspheme, and would appreciate you doing the same, especially around Kate’s sisters.”

That… would be a harder ask; Brooke loved a good f-bomb (and wasn’t entirely sure offhand what constituted blasphemy and what did not). But she would try. She nodded more slowly and uncertainly, allowing him to continue.

“This next point is similar to the first, I suppose, in that it’s really just around the house. Of course we can’t tell you what to do when you’re out… and hopefully you won’t be coming and going at all hours, if just so no one’s getting woken up at two in the morning… but drugs and alcohol aren’t allowed in the house. That’s something we can’t budge on.”

“I… don’t think either of those will be a problem,” said Brooke.

Mr. Marsh actually looked a bit embarrassed as he said the next part. “We also place some value on dressing modestly, so nothing with any offensive slogans on it, and ah, baring midriff or…”

“Pop,” Kate protested, her cheeks pinkening.

“Sorry, Katie, your mother insisted I bring it up.”

Brooke also felt her face heat with embarrassment. Well, it wasn’t exactly like she enjoyed showing skin anyway. “That’s, um, not going to be a problem either.”

Relieved, Mr. Marsh exhaled and speedily moved along. “Right. Just for the record, I’m not worried about any of this. Kate trusts you, and that’s good enough for me. I hope you’ll be comfortable while staying with us.”

Brooke was hesitant, but took courage at the sight of Kate’s optimistic smile beaming in her direction. You’ve got this, it seemed to say. “Me too. Thanks, Mr. Marsh. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

He smiled warmly. “I think you, Brooke, have earned the right to call me Richard.”

After dinner and that lovely chat, the three piled back into Richard’s Mazda to head down into Lincoln City for some shopping. Brooke had been down this way a couple of times growing up, but this marked her first visit as an adult, so she looked upon it with new eyes. The rolling hills ringing the city were picturesque, and while the topography along the shoreline was not as dramatic as Arcadia Bay, the beaches were still pretty.

Her impression was of a place very much like home, just somewhat bigger, an impression reinforced once they actually entered the town. Unsurprisingly, any given Oregon coastal community looked much like another. The feeling it left her with was a distinctly uncanny one. A place like home, but not.

It filled her with a sense of melancholy that was still quite fresh. She just held onto those thoughts until they finally hopped out to visit a store.

As she went over her shopping list in her head, it sank in for Brooke just how much she had lost to the storm. Every book she owned, her computer, her PS Vita, and her comics and posters were all swept away along with the Blackwell dormitory. All her childhood belongings and mementos that hadn’t gone to Blackwell with her were gone along with her house. Her precious drone had still been in Warren’s car near American Rust and was almost certainly destroyed.

Quite literally all she owned now were the clothes on her back, the dirty ones in her new duffel bag, and her phone, which had run out of battery sometime in the morning on Saturday. She supposed somebody in other circumstances might find it humbling. As it is, thinking about it too hard just made her mind buzz, that numb feeling threatening to return.

Brooke blinked and she was standing in the aisles of a Goodwill. She hadn’t even really managed to perceive what store this was on the way in, so lost she was in her own head. Still, it seemed she had managed to find her way to the clothing racks anyway. Steadying herself with a breath, she sifted through the hangers on the rack in front of her, inspecting each item one by one.

Some were mundane and necessary, like several pairs of jeans and sweatpants. She deemed it unwise to invest in shorts when the colder months were just ahead, and frankly she wasn’t sure if the leggings and shorts combo she liked so much would pass the “modesty” muster. There were some more exciting pieces though, like a t-shirt with a pi symbol on it that jumped out to her, and another with a slightly faded print of Darth Vader’s helmet, which made her smile a bit.

Brooke felt a different style of fabric on the next item, and pulled it out, curious. She found a surprisingly crisp and new white button-up shirt. Maybe somebody got it for a wedding and never wore it again?

Rubbing the fabric of the sleeve between her fingertips, Brooke spaced out for a moment, thinking of how often she saw her mom wear shirts like this. It made her imagine the smell of vanilla and laundry detergent again, just like when she was a kid. Eventually she decided that even if it wasn’t her style, why not? She would be taking it with her. At least it would give her something nice to wear for formal occasions.

After making some more acquisitions, like an extra pair of sneakers and a winter coat, she trudged off to the fitting rooms, where she eliminated a couple of items for just not fitting nicely. Fortunately, most passed that particular test. She saved the white shirt for last, and when she fastened the topmost button, she stepped back and looked at herself in the mirror.

And the odd thing about it was, it actually worked. She liked the way it felt on her, and it looked… cool. It might not have been as outright comfy as her hoodies, but it transformed her look in a way she liked, to something a little androgynous. Though she thought, perhaps, that she might like some options with more color on them.

With that decided, then, Brooke went back to return some items and scrounge up some others. She would save her apologies for making Kate and her dad wait until later.

Once Brooke had gathered some more essentials at other stores, including a new charger for her phone, the three of them turned around to the northern part of the Lincoln City area, following the shore of what was, amusingly enough, named Devils Lake.

Not very far northeast of the lake, they pulled into the driveway of a two-story home. Apprehensive, Brooke stepped out of the car, her bag hanging off her shoulder.

It was a handsome house, a fairly recent construction. The finish was light tan and brown, the shutters at the windows a dark teal. A railed porch ringed the second floor of the house with stairway access apparently in the fenced backyard. In the front garden, where Brooke imagined flowers probably grew in the springtime, there was a little wireframe post, and on it fluttered a small flag proclaiming, “As for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.”

As Richard walked ahead to the front door, Kate came up beside Brooke and set a reassuring hand on her upper back. The touch was fleeting, and Kate moved ahead with her suitcase to follow her dad. Brooke decided there was no use waiting and did the same.

When she stepped through the door, she was greeted by the smell of potpourri, some sort of autumnal blend that put her in mind of cinnamon and apples. Mixed with it was a savory smell, fading, which she assumed was the dinner the rest of the Marsh family had while Richard and Kate were still out with her. The decor was understated and homey, but Brooke didn’t get a good look at it at first. Her view was preoccupied by the Marshes, reunited.

Kate had seemingly had her forward progress immediately halted by two smaller blonde figures, who were smothering her in a rather insistent group hug. Their voices ran over one another, exuberant in their joy.

“I missed you so, so much!”

“You scared us…”

“Well, I’ll make up for it somehow. It’s so good to see you both, too!”

To one side, Richard and a woman who could only be Kate’s mother were watching their children with fond smiles. That broke off as the woman looked Brooke’s way, an expression something like surprise on her face.

Deciding to head off any awkwardly prolonged silences, Brooke thought about what to say, then stepped forward, extending her hand to offer a shake. “Hi, I’m Brooke. You have a lovely home, ma’am.”

She didn’t know exactly why this particular line was so ritualized, but she figured by repeating it she’d sound like she was supposed to be there.

In any event, it seemed to work, and Kate’s mother gave a rather restrained smile, hesitantly returning the offer and shaking Brooke’s hand. “Brooke. I’m Carolann Marsh, Katherine’s mother. We’re glad to have you here.”

Brooke would never get used to hearing Kate be called that. “I can’t say how grateful I am for you taking me in. I thought I was… kind of doomed there for a minute.”

“Of course,” said Mrs. Marsh, seeming a little reassured. “We could do no less.”

Before Brooke could get a better read on Kate’s mom, yonder group hug finally broke up and the two youngest Marshes turned to look at her with curious eyes. Brooke had seen both of them in a picture in Kate’s room at Blackwell before; while she tried to remember which was which, Richard smiled at them and beckoned them over to come say hello, and they both approached.

The older of Kate’s sisters went first. She wore a pink headband and glasses; Brooke thought she favored Richard’s features a little more than either of her sisters. “Hi,” she greeted shyly, shaking Brooke’s hand. “I’m Grace. Thanks for helping our sister…”

“I was happy to,” said Brooke. “Nice to meet you.”

Grace stepped back for the youngest Marsh sister, who sort of looked like an adorable miniature Kate. She was practically brimming with nervous energy, her eyes a little wide as she took her turn shaking Brooke’s hand. “I’m Lynn… Your highlights are so cool!”

“Thanks,” Brooke answered with a small smile of her own.

Kate stepped in then, resting a hand on Brooke’s sleeve, prompting her to blink and look at her. “Okay, girls, you can talk more with Brooke tomorrow, but she’s had a long day. I’d like to help her get settled in upstairs.”

Lynn pouted a little, but Grace nodded with a ghost of a smile and cleared off. Richard looked at Brooke and said, “Don’t hesitate to let us know if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Brooke responded quietly, then let Kate lead her up the stairs. It was all a bit of a whirlwind, but she assented to getting dragged to the carpeted hallway at the top, dark wooden doors marking each room.

“Let’s hope you have some time to breathe now,” Kate whispered to her, before going to and opening the door at the end of the hall to the right of the stairs. A sparsely decorated room with gray walls was behind it. An angel painting adorned the wall, and there was a bed already made.

Stepping through, Brooke looked around and took it all in. She shrugged her bag off onto the floor next to the bed and was relieved to finally have her shoulders unburdened. “So this is where I’ll be for the next… however long.”

She felt Kate’s eyes on her and turned, seeing that the other girl had been staring. Kate averted her eyes, abashed, and asked, “Do you want some time alone?”

“Eventually, I guess,” answered Brooke with a small shrug, going to sit on the side of the bed. “But I don’t mind you being here right now. It’s good to have something– uh, someone familiar around.”

Kate folded her arms, hands resting against the sleeves of her gray cardigan, and leaned on the wall by the bed. “I’ll be just a couple of doors down whenever you need support.” She tried a smile, but it came out looking a little sad. “Just like back at Blackwell.”

Just like back at Blackwell. In a way that was true, in that they’d be living in the same building, free to hang out together as they hadn’t been since that damned party. But this environment was already so different from what Brooke had gotten used to at Blackwell. There was a lot missing here. Not least of which being the people.

Brooke thought of that as she laid back on the bed, hands crossed on her stomach. It… hadn’t fully sunk in yet. But they really were all gone, weren’t they? Except for the six survivors who had rolled up to the hospital after the storm, all of her classmates were gone.

Daniel would never get to be a world-renowned artist. Stella would never get her chance to prove her worth in the sciences. Alyssa would never get to be a poet or an actress.

Warren… Warren was destined for such great things. Brooke had always been convinced of that. She couldn’t believe…

So many threads had been cut short. But hers stretched onward, lonelier than before. It wasn’t fair.

“Why?” she asked, not knowing if it was addressed to Kate or to the ceiling. “Why did I survive?”

The dam broke, and Brooke began to weep, unable to be distracted anymore by her changing surroundings now that she had come to a stopping place. With her voice breaking, she asked again, “Why didn’t I die?”

As her chest shook and tears streamed down her face, Brooke felt Kate’s weight settle on the bed beside her, and allowed her friend to hold her for a long while as she reckoned with the changed world she found herself in.

Chapter Text

Monday, October 14th 2013 – Part One [ Brooke ]

Brooke woke up early the next morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. She sensed that she’d had nightmares, but couldn’t remember any clear details. It left her feeling somewhat drained and antsy.

As she sat up, she turned to eye her phone on the nightstand. She had plugged it in to charge overnight, the battery having run empty sometime on Saturday. It was placed screen-down, but still seemed to glare at her, promising more unwelcome reminders of the outside world as soon as she looked.

No. It could wait. Brooke opted to shun it for a few minutes more, swinging her legs off of the bed to stand up.

The sun was only just rising, she noticed. Walking to the window, she slid her fingers between the blinds and parted them to look out. She was on the eastern side of the house and was afforded a nice view of the sun rising, misty and pink, over the distant hills.

It was… nice. A bit calming, even. Something she needed. Feeling a little better about herself and more alert, Brooke walked slowly back to the bed, sitting on the edge again and staring at her phone with a somewhat accusatory air. Finally, she steeled her nerves and reached for it, unplugging the charger and looking at the screen.

7:27 AM. Monday the 14th of October.

It had been one week since the day when Chloe was almost shot in the bathroom at Blackwell, and snow fell on Arcadia Bay. It felt like a lifetime.

Thoughts of Chloe left an uneasy feeling roiling in Brooke’s stomach. To have those revelations about Rachel dropped on her, to find her body, only to experience that tornado right after… Even if she survived, she was surely going through it. Brooke hoped she was okay.

She looked further down the screen and saw she had a good number of notifications, one of which arrested her attention, making her wonder if she’d willed it into existence. There was a stream of texts waiting for her, and the name on them was Max. Mixed relief and worry warred within Brooke as she unlocked it and had a look. The messages dated to the previous afternoon.

Brooke: god dammit, caulfield.

Max: Brooke?

Max: Are you there?

Max: Please tell me you made it

Max was alive. Brooke felt a bit of her anxiety leave her as she let that sink in. Although she and Max had gotten off to a bumpy start, that last week in Arcadia Bay had definitely brought them a lot closer together. It was good that fate hadn’t stolen one more thing from her.

Brooke: i’m here.

Brooke: i was at the hospital with kate when the storm hit. we’re both fine.

Brooke: at her house in lincoln city now.

Brooke: is chloe ok?

Brooke waited several minutes without an answer or a read notification, and figured that Max wasn’t awake yet. She never was much of an early riser back at school. Brooke spent a minute scanning for any other texts from people she knew in Arcadia Bay, but there were none to be found. She avoided looking at the text threads with her mom and Warren, knowing that seeing their last messages again might just break her.

As she glanced over the icons for her social media apps, she recalled that she had turned off her Facebook notifications over a week before and forgot to ever turn them on again. But she thought better of doing anything about it. The last thing she needed to see right now was a wall full of ghosts.

She was just about to resort to scrolling Twitter when a new text buzzed away. She switched back over to check it out.

Max: Oh dog I actually cried a little just then

Brooke: don’t get mushy on me now caulfield.

Brooke: i didn’t think you’d be awake this early.

Max: I couldn’t sleep.

Brooke: that makes two of us.

Max: Sorry, I’m such a ditz. Yes, Chloe is with me. We’re at my parents place in Seattle now.

Brooke: that’s a relief. i’m glad you’re both okay.

Brooke: shit, where to begin?

Brooke: did you already hear about warren?

It was still very fresh for Brooke herself, and she felt a flash of pain as she typed the words. She hoped she wasn’t opening wounds for Max as well. But with as close as Max and Warren had been, Brooke felt like she definitely needed to hear it from someone.

Max: No but… From up at the lighthouse, seeing that tornado? I already figured nobody made it. He didn’t answer my texts.

Brooke: damn. okay. let me tell you how i heard it.

Brooke recounted a slightly truncated version of Dana’s tale to Max, her hands shaking a little as she typed. She had to put her phone down part way to take a breath before concluding, and waited for Max’s reply when she was done.

Max: Fuck…

Brooke: i’m sorry.

Max: Not your fault. Thanks for telling me the whole truth Brooke.

Max: I’ll just have to live with it. And with everything else we lost.

Max: Warren was a lot stronger and a lot braver than I think anyone gave him credit for.

Max: And a really great guy.

Max: He deserved better.

Brooke: you know the really fucked up thing? i think you’re wrong.

Brooke: it actually is my fault.

Max: ???

Brooke sank back to lay on the bed again as she composed her reply, squinting at her screen. It wasn’t very good for her eyes to do this without her glasses, but she couldn’t be bothered to grab them off the nightstand. This had to come off her chest.

Brooke: i feel like he knew we were up to something. investigating.

Brooke: he definitely did once you guys stormed out during the party. he overheard a lot of stuff.

Brooke: then he texted me right as the tornado warning went out and the subject sort of came up again for a moment.

Brooke: he saw me help kate earlier in the week. he found out what we’d been up to. he saw me run off to save you guys.

Brooke: i think seeing that put all these crazy ideas into his head. i think he wanted to feel included.

Brooke: he wanted to be a hero.

Brooke had known as soon as she heard what happened to Warren that it was true; that her own involvement in the events of the past week, through some knock-on effect, had brought about Warren’s fate. She couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how hard she tried. It had the simple, pure clarity of the truth. And it weighed heavily on her soul.

She was shaking again, she noticed. In an absent sort of way, she supposed that was to be expected, given what she was holding herself accountable for.

Max: Brooke, there’s no way. You had nothing to do with what happened to Warren.

Max: You can’t blame yourself.

Brooke: it doesn’t feel that way.

Max: I know you’re wrong. And you’ll just have to take my word for that.

Max: Besides, if you did inspire Warren to do what he did then that also means your actions saved the lives of six people.

Max: But in the end you know that it was his choice to be a hero. Not yours.

Brooke: there’s no such thing as heroes, max. just dumbasses trying to do their best.

Brooke: if superheroes were real, powers and all, they would just be fucked up, scared people making mistakes like all the rest of us.

Brooke wondered, for just a second, if she should tell Max about her storm dreams, or about the flashes of insight which had helped her survive Jefferson. But that was all still… weird. Buried beneath the traumatic events of the previous days, it barely felt real, and the idea of confessing it now made her feel deeply uncomfortable.

No. She would keep that to herself.

Max: I guess you’re right about that much…

Brooke: sorry. i didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party.

Max: We’ve been through a lot Brooke. Don’t apologize.

Max: Just never forget that you are awesome for all you’ve done. For Kate, for me, for Chloe, for everyone.

Max: I know it feels like shit right now, but things will get better.

Brooke: thanks.

Max: Man, I need to try texting Dana and the others who made it. They cannot be doing okay after all that.

Brooke had not considered doing the same. She very much doubted they’d want to talk to her. Instead, she brought up one last topic which had been burning a hole in her head.

Brooke: i didn’t get a chance to thank you.

Max: For?

Brooke: for the save. i’d be jefferson victim n+1 if it wasn’t for you.

Max: Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I’m always happy to help you out. Even when things get crazy.

Brooke: you’re the salt of the earth, max.

Brooke: i know the storm took center stage but it can’t have been easy learning your photography hero was a monster.

Brooke: are you coping okay?

Max: Honestly? I've barely thought about it after everything else. I passed out like a chump and didn’t even really see him until the very end.

Max: It’s still sinking in. But it feels kind of small next to the tornado.

Brooke: i know what you mean.

Brooke: what i still don’t understand is how you did it.

Brooke: it’s like you teleported or some shit and tk’d the gun out of his hand.

Brooke: max… what really happened there?

There was another long pause, tension building. Brooke was absolutely sure that she was about to get some sort of explanation – and that it was going to be heavy. But somehow, it never came.

Max: I want to tell you all about it, Brooke, but

Max: Not right now.

Max: Another time. Hold me to it okay?

Brooke made a face. She should have expected the old Caulfield brush-off. But… she hadn’t. Shaking off the strange feeling and forcing herself to accept it, she answered:

Brooke: fine. i will.

Brooke: tell chloe i said hi.

Max: Can do.

That was that. Brooke set her phone on the nightstand and rose to get dressed and freshen up. All the while, unresolved questions about her week from hell continued to buzz in her head.

The bathroom, just one door down from Brooke’s, was tidier than she’d expected it to be. She may have never had siblings herself, but it beggared belief that two pre-teen girls could share a bathroom and not leave it absolutely strewn with their belongings. Their mom must have come through and turbo-cleaned everything for the incoming visitor.

There was a fuzzy blue seat cover on the toilet, seahorses printed on the shower curtain, and a sign with “FAITH” spelled in cast-iron letters hanging from the top of the mirror.

It was… charming. Brooke would just settle on “charming”.

She had nothing else to stare at while she brushed her teeth but her face and the sign, so she opted for the latter. She wondered exactly what sort of culture shock she was in for with this place. Were the Marshes the science-denying, 6,000-year-old Earth types? Were any of them as tolerant as Kate or did they share Mrs. Marsh’s distrust of people from Blackwell?

Brooke truly had no idea what to expect. Kate had once tried to explain to her what denomination her family was a part of, but it had sort of gone in one ear, out the other. She wished she had tried harder to understand now. Being brought up by a tolerant liberal in an agnostic household had not prepared her for the tasks ahead.

But spacing out in the bathroom and wondering about it wasn’t going to do anything for her but waste time. She finished up her business and stepped out into the hall.

She found a couple of the other doors already standing ajar. Texting Max had taken up a good chunk of time, during which she’d heard motion in the hall outside. She’d tuned it out, of course. It seemed the Marsh family had already gotten a start to their day.

She ignored those two doors, instead heading for the closed one further down which Kate had pointed out as her own the day before. It was not quite opposite Brooke’s – that would be Kate’s parents’ room – but was the furthest along the long wall spanning the hallway. Brooke hesitated outside for a second before knocking.

“It’s open!” called Kate’s voice from inside. Brooke opened the door and stepped through, in the tentative sort of way one does in a room one’s never been in before, searching for and quickly finding her friend.

Oh my God. Cute. This was the first thought that crossed her mind as she had a look at the big t-shirt Kate had worn to bed. It sported a charming graphic of Saturday morning cartoon sensation Hawt Dawg Man striking a heroic pose. Kate was sitting on her bed, a book closed on her thumb.

Brooke couldn’t describe what a balm for her soul it was to see Kate smiling again in the soft morning light streaming through the window. She allowed herself to be captivated by it. Just for a moment.

Kate spoke first. “Good morning. How are you feeling…?”

Though she had to mull it over, Brooke elected for honesty. “Not good, not bad. I still feel pretty fucked up, but at least I’m not in the same state I was when we left off last night…” Her eyes scanned the room as she talked. Light cream walls and a smattering of belongings made it feel very Kate, between the art and cartoon posters on the walls, the cross hanging by the window, and books about the art of illustration on her shelf.

There were some obvious empty spots where she had taken things to Blackwell. The largest one was on the carpet next to the desk by the window; it looked just the right size for a rabbit cage. God… poor Alice. Brooke hadn’t even thought of the bunny among everything else.

“Stay a minute?” Kate offered, gesturing to the office chair at the desk. “We don’t have anywhere to be.”

Taking her eyes off of the empty space left by Alice, Brooke took the back of the chair in hand, spun it around, and slowly lowered herself into it. “Did you sleep okay?”

Kate’s eyes slid off of Brooke’s face at that. It was a tell which Brooke had gotten familiar with during their short but tumultuous acquaintance. “More or less.” Catching Brooke’s archly raised eyebrow, she amended her answer, rubbing the top of her one hand with the other. “... I dreamed a bit. I think I was back in… his room.”

Brooke felt ice running through her veins, her eyes widening a little at Kate, who just fearlessly kept talking, tracing circles in her sheets with her fingertip.

“It was so bright. I couldn’t see or focus on much of anything. And I wasn’t getting hurt, I was just getting pushed around. Unable to move on my own. Voices I couldn’t focus on all around me…” Her expression was distant as she shook her head. “I wasn’t even scared really, like you should be with a nightmare. I was just thinking to myself… ‘Oh Lord, I want to be able to move again. I’m tired of not feeling my arms or legs. I wish this would end.’ It was… exhausting.”

Brooke wheeled the chair just a little closer. “That sucks. I’m sorry.” After saying that, it occurred to her to ask, “Have you told your parents yet? About the stuff I told you, I mean? About… his involvement in everything?”

Kate’s hand stopped moving. “No. Not yet. I will today or tomorrow, I think. It just…” She met Brooke’s eyes again, finally. “It feels like a bad dream I’m still waking up from. Not wholly real… Do you know what I mean?” When Brooke nodded, she added, “I’ve barely put it together yet that they’re really all gone. That I’ll never go back to Blackwell…”

Brooke saw that Kate was looking off at something. Following her gaze, her own settled on Kate’s suitcase, sitting on the floor near the bed. Her dad had brought it up to the hospital yesterday, but Brooke hadn’t seen Kate pack it. It was unzipped, and protruding from the opened side, she caught a glimpse of multicolored paper, and a trace of ribbon.

The gifts from her hospital room, she realized. So some of the items had survived the storm? She knew that the damage inside the hospital had been pretty uneven. Kate’s room must have been one of the luckier ones.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d want to go back,” said Brooke, tearing her eyes away from the suitcase. “Not after everything, I mean.”

“I had… mixed feelings about it. Blackwell could be scary. But it was good for me, too.”

“Not good enough,” Brooke mumbled.

Kate smiled patiently at her and asked, “I met you there, didn’t I?”

The response made Brooke blush, for some reason. She guessed she didn’t really have a counterpoint to that.

“And Max. And Dana. And the other friends I made…” Kate’s eyes shuttered off, her gaze drooping. “They made it worthwhile. If I hadn’t been unlucky, if I hadn’t been targeted by… by… him. If there hadn’t been a storm. It could have been something very special for me.”

“Because of the art program? The opportunities?” Brooke questioned.

Kate shook her head. “Because it was real.” Now her expression shone, her attention fixed on some distant, glittering possibility, just out of reach. “For the first time, I was living in the real world. Where all these people I admired had learned, and suffered, and turned what they experienced into art. It’s where I needed to be if I ever wanted to be like them.”

A smile spread across Kate’s face, a tremulous thing. “It was beautiful, and dangerous. Exciting. And then…”

The smile fled, and she straightened up, looking back to Brooke. “... It turned out to just be a dream. I woke up, and I was back here. In this bubble again.”

Brooke truly didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t realized coming to Blackwell was so important for Kate. To hear her dreams explicitly laid out for the first time, to hear the longing in her voice for the chance to spread her wings, made Brooke’s heart ache with sympathy. She pushed her feet on the floor to bring the chair nearer still, close the rest of the distance, and reach out to offer Kate her hand.

And Kate stared at it for a second, as if unsure of herself, before gratefully taking it, the tension which had built up in her shoulders through her monologue seeming to loosen.

“This is just a pit stop, Kate,” Brooke said. “It’s a blip. You’ll make it out the other side, and you’ll be… extraordinary. Trust me on that.”

Kate nodded slowly at Brooke, some unreadable look on her face, eyes wide and bright. “Okay,” she said, her voice a soft murmur. “I will.”

They were both a little startled by the door opening again without so much as a warning knock. When Brooke looked over, she found Kate’s mother glancing between them, her eyes lingering particularly on their joined hands; Mrs. Marsh’s lips drew a little tight at that.

“Breakfast is ready downstairs, if you girls want to join in,” she said.

Kate withdrew her hand speedily. Brooke saw her posture get that little bit more tense again, her expression guarded. “We’ll be right there, Mom.”

As soon as her mom went, Kate stood up to go without a further word. Brooke watched her walk out, hoping for Kate’s sake that the stop would be a short one. Then she rose, too, and followed.

Chapter Text

Monday, October 14th 2013 – Part Two [ Kate ]

A lot had changed since Kate’s childhood. This house near Devils Lake was a case in point. When she closed her eyes and thought of ‘home’, she still pictured the warm, golden afternoon light streaming through the windows of the house in Arcadia Bay where she had lived until she was thirteen.

Then she opened her eyes, and she was back here again. She had only lived here full-time until fifteen, when she had accepted a scholarship at Blackwell. To tell the truth, going away to Arcadia Bay for school was always easier than coming back here. Perhaps she had been hoping to find some sense of home again.

When Kate had finally gotten around to walking by the old house during one of her days off, she found it repainted, and the cherry tree out front which she and Grace had played under was chopped down. She guessed nothing ever stayed the same.

Well, maybe some things did. Her mom still used the same pancake mix, and a lot of the decor in their kitchen had simply moved with them. Kate was tracing the sunflower magnets on the fridge with her eyes and ignoring her pancakes, lost in thought, while Brooke attempted to field questions about herself from Kate’s curious parents.

“I was hoping to go into something aviation related,” Brooke was telling them, picking at her breakfast. “Designing aircraft, or improved aircraft systems, maybe. I’m keeping my options open, though; anything that involves working with physics or computers would suit me.”

“Impressive stuff,” Pop praised. “You know, I was considering a career in pharmaceutical chemistry back when I graduated from high school.”

“Oh? Uh, why didn’t you go the rest of the way with it?”

“As soon as I took my first college calculus course, I realized I was a bit out of my depth.” When Brooke gave an understanding nod, he chuckled and went on. “So instead I went for an education degree, and eventually went to seminary.”

“That’s like… grad school for priests, right?”

“Yes, more or less. I won’t bore you with the details, though. I hope you’re able to continue your studies soon, by some means.”

That brought Brooke up short, a pensive frown on her face. “Yeah. Me too.”

Kate’s mom, having just finished a sip from her teacup, looked less enthusiastic about the subject. “Well, that’s nice… I’d assumed that you were an art student like Kate and you met through your classes?”

“We didn’t share any classes on our schedule, actually,” Kate spoke up, hoping to assist. “We encountered each other in the dorms now and then, but we only became friends as a result of a happy accident.”

Kate was rewarded for bringing it up with a tiny smile from Brooke, who seemed to regard the memory as fondly as she did. “Yeah, I guess we did. Kate was being bothered by these girls… She came over to sit with me instead, and we got to talking about the books we like. We sort of hit it off after that.”

“That, I suppose, we can chalk up to providence,” Pop mused.

“If you’d like,” Brooke answered with a minute shrug.

Picking up on that, Mom asked, “You do believe in providence, Brooke?”

Brooke met her with a somewhat surprised look. “Like, divine will? Is that what you mean?”

Kate shot her dad a pleading look. He nodded at her, sighed in the direction of his wife, and implored her, “Dear, this isn’t the Inquisition. Let the poor girl eat her breakfast.”

Mom shot him a frown, but didn’t press the matter. Brooke, meanwhile, had shrunk into her seat, looking hunted. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Kate hurried to finish off her own breakfast and then stood up. “Brooke, we should get going if we want to squeeze our errands in.”

Brooke stared blankly at her, which was understandable considering that Kate had just made that up. “Uh? Oh, sure…”

“Can we use your car, Pop?” Kate asked as she took her dishes to the sink.

“Sure thing. Just have it back by four, okay?”

Nodding and thanking him, Kate led a bemused Brooke out of the kitchen to head upstairs and get dressed. As she spared one last glance over her shoulder, she found her mother looking, for whatever reason, satisfied about something. Kate hid her grimace and hurried along, determined to put it out of mind.

Kate did not, in fact, manage to put it out of mind. As Kate drove the car away from the house, Brooke turned to see her stormy countenance and said, “Thanks. You know. For the save? And I did have actual errands to run, so this works out…”

“I can’t believe her,” Kate groaned, not really answering.

“What? Your mom? I mean, I wasn’t expecting to get called out that quickly but I figured they’d want to know where I stand eventually, you know?”

“It’s not that,” answered Kate. “Well… not really, anyway. She’s just…” Words failed her for a second. Just what? Classifying her mother was never easy. “She apologized to me, you know? Back in the hospital. She said she was arrogant for not believing me when I said I didn’t do… those things in the video of my own will.”

Brooke was watching her closely, but Kate could only peek back a moment at a time, keeping her eyes on the road.

“And I thought things were going to change. I really did. I thought that was the turning point, that it would finally happen, but… She’s just the same bitter person she’s always been.”

Moving away from Arcadia Bay at thirteen had also coincided with a turning point in her mother’s behavior. Her standards became stricter, her patience shorter, and her comments on Kate’s body and manner of dress became more pointed. She could be a real bully sometimes.

Maybe Kate had been naive to think that anything, even almost losing her daughter – twice – would really make her mother change her stripes. After all, all of the prayers she sent up to God about the matter hadn’t amounted to much, either. It seemed that her mother was moving on a set track, and it was beyond Kate’s power to stop her.

Once, Kate was resigned to that. She supposed that meeting people like Brooke and Max, who loved her without conditions, had shattered the illusion, and made her incapable of returning to the way things were before.

And yet, as she thought more and let the anger seep slowly out of her, Kate felt it be replaced by guilt. “I shouldn’t be talking about her like that. It’s not respectful of me, and I’m making a bad impression of her for you. I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

Taking courage, Brooke shook her head. “No, not at all. You’re in your rights to complain. God knows, moms are complicated.”

“You’ve got that right,” Kate said with a sigh. “Still, I’m sorry she put you on the spot like that.”

“It’s fine.” Brooke warded it off with a shrug. “She’s not really used to having strangers around the house, right?”

“I guess not?”

“Then maybe she’ll chill out and get used to me after a bit. I’ll just… you know. Play it cool until then.” Brooke moved her hand in a slow, sweeping motion as she said ‘play it cool’. She didn’t sound as uncertain as Kate felt, but she didn’t have time to inquire further before Brooke spoke again. “Can we head to the post office?”

“Oh.” Kate blinked. She had been so distracted that they’d almost missed their turn. She corrected her driving and flashed Brooke a quick smile. “Of course. Let’s get that taken care of.”

The post office was just a block away from the Goodwill they’d gone to the day before, a squat and old-fashioned brick building ringed by trees starting to change their colors. There were just a couple of cars in the lot. Kate pulled in as close to the front as she could manage, primly fitting the Mazda perfectly parallel to the lines.

All things considered, a Monday morning was a good time to show up; they found the post office mostly empty, with no lines to be found. Brooke approached the customer service desk, where a worker, a woman with curly brown hair, had been typing at a computer in the back. She looked up and smiled at the two of them, pushing her office chair over to the counter.

“Good morning! How can I help you today?”

“Hi,” Brooke greeted her. “I need to change my mailing address, can I do that here?”

“Sure can. Do you have a valid state ID handy?”

Brooke produced her driver’s license and handed it over. Kate saw the worker double-take and frown sadly at the address shown on the license, before asking for the new one.

“I’ll get that sorted out for you, hon. Just a couple minutes.” The worker wheeled her chair back to the computer and got to work.

Brooke thanked her, resting her elbow on the counter and staring at her license. Kate took a peek, and Brooke tilted it her way for a better look when she noticed. Kate was greeted by the sight of a sixteen-year-old Brooke looking uncomfortable in the photo, and without her dyed streaks.

“So baby-faced,” Kate said with a giggle, earning a minute smile from Brooke in the process. “I didn’t know you had a middle name. Um, how do you pronounce that?”

“Ánh,” Brooke said; to Kate’s ear it sounded sort of like the word ‘eye’ with an ‘ng’ at the end. “Mom said it means something like shining or bright.”

Kate thought that was quite apt, but didn’t say so. “It’s pretty… Mine’s Beverly.”

“Like the Hills?” Brooke joked with a lopsided smirk.

“Like my grandmother on my dad’s side,” Kate retorted with a fondly exasperated look. “She passed away before I was born, but it’s nice to carry a little piece of her with me.”

When a moment of silence elapsed, less fun thoughts entered Brooke’s head; Kate could tell by that familiar look on her face, brows drawn low and eyes far away. “I really don’t know what I’m going to do, Kate.” She met her gaze, looking tired. “Is there going to be a reading of a will or something? Do I need to organize a funeral? Not to mention finishing school. I have a bit of money in my account, but nowhere near enough for tuition. I don’t know if you can even join a school halfway through the year.”

Kate had never had to do any of these things either, so she had no firm answer. Instead she lifted her hand and rested it on Brooke’s shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s going to be a lot, but I'm sure my dad can help to point you in the right direction on some of that stuff. And I’m here to help no matter what, okay?”

A bit of the frost in Brooke’s expression thawed, and she peeked furtively at Kate's eyes. Kate hoped that even just through her gaze, she could communicate a bit of just how serious she was in her promise. But the moment passed when the post office employee came back.

“All done and submitted,” she reported with a smile. “That’ll take a couple of days to process internally, but you probably won’t see any mail until next week regardless. All the stuff originally addressed for Arcadia Bay is just sitting at our regional center right now while they work out what to do with it.”

“It must be pretty chaotic there right now,” Brooke guessed, slipping her hands into the pocket of her yellow hoodie. Her expression had become pensive again.

“Just a bit,” the worker said, “but they’ll get your stuff to you in time. Don’t worry. Was there anything else I could help you girls with?”

“No, thank you,” Kate spoke up, tapping her still introspective friend on the shoulder. With a final farewell, they were off.

Looking Brooke over as they exited the post office, Kate made up her mind. The both of them could stand to find a distraction from heavy matters for a bit. “Would you like to visit the beach?”

Brooke raised an eyebrow at her and slowly nodded.

Kate pulled her jacket a little tighter as she came face to face with the Pacific Ocean. It was a chilly, overcast morning, and the surf was unwelcoming and gray. Still, there was something appealing about the sight despite the overcast conditions and the cold sea. Her artist’s eye picked up on the subtle gradations of gray between the sky and the sea, melting into the tan and green of the shoreline; it was a subdued but interesting palette which she would try to remember later once she had her colored pencils in hand.

Brooke was probably not thinking about the same things. She had been a little unconvinced by the idea of coming down here in the autumn chill, at least until Kate had mentioned that there were some tide pools on the rockier parts of the shore. That had changed her tune quickly.

It wasn’t aesthetic interest but scientific curiosity that was compelling Brooke, and her eyes were not glued to the sky, but the rocks beneath her feet. She was wandering along at a slow pace, something in her gait a little lighter than her heavy trudging from before. She placed one shoe carefully in front of the other to avoid tripping on the slick rocks, surprisingly good at keeping her balance. Kate found herself hopelessly transfixed by Brooke’s every movement, and it was only when Brooke stopped moving that Kate was able to bring herself back.

She felt herself blush and chastised herself for it. Honestly, she got fascinated with the strangest things about Brooke sometimes. She could stand to show some restraint by saving this fascination for when Brooke did things that were truly remarkable – that did happen often enough.

“Hey Kate, come look at this.”

Shaken from her reverie, Kate found that Brooke was kneeling by a pool of brackish water among the dark stone of the shore. So she stopped for a tide pool? Kate obliged and came over to crouch as well, careful not to get her skirt dirty. She was greeted by a world in miniature, full of strange and unfamiliar creatures. Hard-shelled mollusks of several kinds blanketed the bottom, and a couple of round things with feathery crowns, which Kate was pretty sure were alive, added splashes of color, though she couldn’t identify them. Brooke was pointing at a pair of purplish-brown sea stars huddled together on a rock beneath the water.

“Check out these guys here, lording it over the pool. I’m pretty sure this is the purple sea star. Sometimes called the ochre sea star.”

“Tell me about them,” Kate urged, Brooke’s eagerness infecting her.

“Well, they’re one of our more common species. They prey on mussels and snails.”

“Oh, really? I sort of thought starfish were… filter feeders or something like that.”

Brooke shook her head. “Nah, they’re basically all predators. They move awfully slow, but hey, so do their preferred prey items.”

“Are we pretty much looking at the apex predators of the tide pool here, then?” Kate asked, eyeing the pair of inert stars with renewed interest.

“Only for the moment. Those anemones over there can’t hurt the sea stars, but they’re pretty proficient predators themselves.” Brooke pointed out those things that Kate couldn’t identify a moment ago. So that’s what they were. “And purple stars are preyed upon themselves. Most animals don’t find sea stars too appealing – they have calcium carbonate skeletons, so it’s basically like eating a rock, not very appetizing – but larger sea stars like sun stars like them well enough. And gulls?” She glanced up at the sky, where a couple of shorebirds were flying. “They’ll just fold the legs up and swallow these suckers in one go.”

Kate found herself giggling. “I’d love to see that.”

Brooke joined her in that. “It’s not pretty.” Then her expression turned thoughtful again. “I was worried we wouldn’t see any sea stars, actually. There’s some kind of plague that’s been spreading down the coast and killing them off by the thousand. No one seems to know why.”

The poor things. “Maybe you can solve that riddle someday?”

Brooke chuffed out a small laugh. “I’ll leave that for the actual biologists. My area of competency lies elsewhere.”

Kate wasn’t so sure that Brooke should dismiss the thought so readily. Here was Kate, never sparing sea stars a second thought in her whole life, for all that she talked about loving all of God’s creatures. While Brooke… Brooke may not have absorbed all the colors or the way the horizon melded with the sky, but she saw so much more than Kate could ever dream of. Creation was as an open book to Brooke, and she perceived beauty from a different angle than Kate did, but she perceived it just the same.

A memory stole across Kate’s mind of Mr. Jefferson remarking how science and art were not so different, at their core. The unwelcome reminder of his existence snuffed out the spark of her enthusiasm for a moment.

Kate only realized she’d been spaced out staring at her friend when she found Brooke blinking back at her. “Kate… I know what you’re doing by bringing me out here. Trying to distract me, I mean. And I do appreciate it, you’re incredibly sweet. But you don’t have to look out for me all the time, you know? You need to take care of yourself, too, especially after everything that’s happened to you.”

Kate was faintly embarrassed at being called out like this. Of course she understood that fact, but Brooke had lost so much more than she had… No, she had a point of her own to make. “I know, Brooke. I told you the same thing back at school, remember?” Brooke’s look of chagrin told Kate that she did. “But I was wrong, you know. When I said that I could take care of myself. Maybe I can, but… I haven’t learned how just yet.”

Her hands tightened their grip on her forearms where they were crossed atop her knees. “So– I extend the same to you. You can’t go through this alone, Brooke. I… I won’t let you. I care about you far too much.”

Brooke wasn’t very good at maintaining eye contact, so moments like these, where her brown and Kate’s hazel met for more than a few seconds at a time, were treasured by Kate, despite the risk of getting lost in her eyes. This time, Brooke severed the contact out of embarrassment, her lips taut and cheeks glowing red as she stared down into the water.

“Okay, Kate. Point well made. I bow down before your awesomeness.”

Kate giggled and tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear, and kept watching Brooke as the other girl continued to inspect the creatures in the pool, pretending not to notice.

She meant that sentence, ‘I care about you far too much’, more literally than it might have sounded at first. Kate had spent too many long days and sleepless nights wondering why girls made her feel this way, even well before she met Brooke, to ignore the truth.

Kate had eyes, and she most certainly had a brain. It was hard to ignore how Max’s smiles made her melt, how Dana’s hugs made her pulse quicken, or even, Lord help her, Victoria Chase’s piercing stare.

But as much as she had promised herself to lock the truth away, to keep it somewhere safe where it couldn’t hurt Brooke or herself, something else had changed in Kate’s life, and she knew the cause was utterly lost before she had ever begun to fight.

She was falling for Brooke Scott, and all the prayers in the world wouldn’t stop it.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, October 15th 2013 [ Kate ]

The day after partaking in what could, at a stretch, be called stargazing with Brooke, Kate was shut up in her room with the door closed. Her blinds were defiantly drawn against a sunny, balmy day outside, a thing which seemed manifestly inappropriate for the occasion.

One week. Seven days. It sounded like such a short time, didn’t it? Kate supposed that it was, viewing it objectively. The pain and chaos of the days since then had dilated the time, stretched it out like taffy. There were times where it seemed far away, but at others it drew too close for comfort.

Today its shadow seemed to loom over her shoulder, watching her expectantly, waiting for her to jump again. It wasn’t the only one; it seemed like everyone in the house was stepping on glass around her. Even Brooke hadn’t fully shaken the habit of staring at her with worried eyes, though from her Kate was willing to take it, for embarrassing but perhaps obvious reasons.

Her realization from the day before was still flitting around the edges of her mind, of course. In all honesty, she couldn’t decide whether it was another negative or a positive. She had been intrigued by Brooke since the day they met, but as time passed and she came to understand more facets of her ever so complicated friend – her humor, her sense of fairness, her bravery – that intrigue had blossomed into something more serious, more life-altering. But doomed just the same.

Brooke was straight, after all. She had told Kate that in no uncertain terms, and the evidence would seem to back her up, considering her clear interest in Warren. It was an academic point in any case, since Kate did not think she could pursue a relationship with another woman without irrevocably shattering her family. Her sisters might understand, but her mother would not. And what about her dad? She didn’t think she could take his disappointment.

Kate would just have to learn to cope with it. She knew that her feelings would make Brooke’s stay here just as awkward for Kate as her mother’s mistrust of the world beyond the church would for Brooke. If Brooke was willing to cope with the latter, Kate would need to cope with the former.

She was really good at suffering in silence. At least this time it was to a good end.

“Come on, Marsh,” she groaned at herself, patting her hands on her cheeks to bring herself back to reality. She had just been pacing in her room for the last several minutes, occasionally glancing at the former home of her dearly missed pet or the still unpacked suitcase full of memorabilia. If she didn’t stop this pattern now, she’d lose a whole day to this malaise.

Determined to do something about it then, Kate focused her thoughts on the day before, and a palette of colors lived again in her mind. Forcing herself to smile, she reached between her bed and bookshelf, grabbing a small blank canvas, about sixteen by sixteen inches. Next she knelt, fishing around under the bed and swatting away dust bunnies until she found her easel and a small tarp for the floor. Setting them up by her desk, she sat in the chair and put the canvas in place. On a small shelf nailed to the wall beside the desk, bottles of paint sat ready along with a small selection of brushes kept in a canvas drawstring bag. These last few things made up everything she needed.

Her first instinct had been to commit the colors of the beach to paper in colored pencil, but the more she had thought about it, the more convinced she was that oil paint would capture the blend of shades more faithfully. It had been way too long since she’d worked with paint anyway; she’d had no painting courses that semester and left all her stuff for it here. Lucky, in the actual event.

Dabbing the brush in a bottle of Prussian blue, Kate brushed it lightly over almost the whole canvas, setting a foundational shade over which she could put everything else. Working with methodical slowness, she began to overlay swirling streaks of light gray, her eyes following their corkscrews and loop-de-loops as they gradually covered the canvas. It gave her the impression of light making the surface of a large cloud pale gray, the deep, dark shades within showing only in crevasses and cracks.

She was equally fastidious in tracing said crevasses with a marine blue, highlighting the boundaries between colors, but more liberal in adding flecks of camo green, in flight in this strange sky as if they were a flock of birds. It made for a somewhat off-putting contrast with the more subdued shades in the back, but as she leaned back for a look, she found the overall effect worked. Something in that conflict satisfied her, and she spent a while staring and contemplating where else to take this piece.

Her thoughts were interrupted by light and tentative knocks on her door. A moment’s worry passed quickly as she realized it wasn’t her mother; she often didn’t bother knocking at all. “Come in.”

Kate found her smile brightening a little when she saw Lynn poke her head in. Her youngest sister was rambunctious and energetic, a marked contrast to the rest of the family, who were generally more slow and steady. That might have just been a consequence of being ten, though, all things being considered.

“Hi Katie,” Lynn greeted, uncharacteristically quiet. She was lingering at the threshold, her hand resting on the door. Though her eyes searched the room, she didn’t seem to find whatever she was looking for. “Are you busy?”

Kate scooted over a little to make some spare space on her seat, patting it invitingly. “I’m never too busy for you. Sit with me.”

She was rewarded with the sight of Lynn beaming before she all but pranced on over to squeeze in beside Kate, leaning on her. “It’s been so lame without you here,” she mumbled while she pressed her face into Kate’s shoulder, her big sister’s arm around her.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not all bad,” Kate reassured, patting Lynn’s opposite arm.

“It is,” Lynn protested. “School stinks, and Grace has been driving me crazy. She’s so neurotic.”

Kate was impressed by Lynn’s vocabulary, but chose not to show it. “Aw, hey, Grace is just trying to cope with things the same as you are, you know? Be nice.” Her gentle admonishment forced a reluctant nod from Lynn. “What’s wrong at school?”

“I don’t think I want to be in the fall play,” Lynn confessed, pouting.

“What? Goodness, what makes you say that?”

“See, I just want to be Alice… Oh, it’s Alice in Wonderland, by the way.” She barreled on with scarcely a breath after the clarification. “She’s supposed to be lost and confused and wondering if she’s in a dream. I can do lost, confused, and dreamy! And I’m the best at remembering my lines in the class. But Mr. Emond wants to give the part to Jeanie Blackburn instead and make me the White Rabbit… It sucks!”

“Mom will be annoyed with you if she hears you saying ‘sucks’,” Kate sighed.

“Yeah, well,” grumbled Lynn, “it sucks. I’d be way better at it than Jeanie.”

“Didn’t you get the lead role in the spring play?” Kate broached gently.

“I was a really good Dorothy,” Lynn confirmed, nodding.

“It sounds to me like Mr. Emond wants to give someone else a fair chance to be in the spotlight. Has Jeanie ever gotten to be the lead before?”

“Uh,” Lynn started, thoughtful. “No. I guess not. But still, the White Rabbit? He’s barely in it…”

“But he still plays an important role in the story,” Kate chimed back, smiling. “I loved Alice in Wonderland, you know, and I know for a fact that the story just wouldn’t be the same without him. I’ll bet Mr. Emond wants you to try something different from your usual roles. You should take the chance to show him what you’re made of.”

Lynn listened to Kate, a fire sparking in her eyes once her big sister got to the end of her pitch. “Oh… Okay then! I can do that. Of course I can do that. I’ll knock his socks off!”

Kate giggled, giving her sister a hug which she happily returned. When Lynn pulled back from it, she turned to look at the canvas. “Anyway, enough about that. I didn’t know you were painting again.”

“This is my first time in a while,” Kate admitted. Noticing the puzzled look on Lynn’s face, she tilted her head and asked, “What do you feel when you look at this painting?”

There was a lengthy pause before Lynn answered glibly, “Confused.”

That got a small laugh out of Kate. “Well, in that case, you have a good eye. That’s exactly the sort of feeling that I was putting into this piece.”

“What are you confused about?”

“A whole lot of things.” More than Kate could admit, really. “Everything has changed so quickly, and I’ve lost a lot.”

“Like Alice,” Lynn observed, gazing sadly at the bare spot by the wall.

“Yes,” agreed Kate, closing her eyes.

“I’ll miss her,” Lynn sniffed, then prodded Kate to urge her to open her eyes again before asking a question. “Why did she have to get caught in that storm? She was just an innocent bunny. It’s not fair.”

“It was just her time,” Kate answered sadly. “Once that storm was in motion, there was nothing anyone could do to save her. It’s hard for us to understand, because we’re really very small in the grand scheme, but we have to accept it and live with it.”

It was a hard idea for Lynn to grapple with. Kate couldn’t blame her; she barely believed it herself. Undeterred, her little sister said, “I don’t want you to lose anything else, Katie. And… and I don’t want to lose you, either.” Her eyes were a little watery as she gazed up at her. “Why did you do it?”

Kate’s heart almost stopped as she realized what her sister was really asking about. Oh, Lynn… Summoning her courage, Kate did her best to answer. “I didn’t try what I tried because I wanted to leave you, Lynn. I really didn’t. But…” She stared deep into the darker sections of her painting. “I felt abandoned. I felt like there was nobody in the whole world who would be on my side, and that the suffering I’d experienced would never fade. I thought I was out of options.”

She traced the whorls of gray on the canvas with her eyes, wistful. “I was wrong, though. And I’m so blessed to have you, and Grace, and everyone who’s a part of my life. Who knows what could have happened. But… at least here, in this world we live in, Brooke was there to talk me down. To remind me that I’m loved.”

Sniffling a bit, Lynn leaned in to rest her head against Kate’s neck, refusing to let her go. “Okay.” There she stayed, composing herself for a second before mentioning, “Brooke’s so cool. She was talking to me about drones earlier, and they sound awesome. Do you think she’d fly one for us?”

“Gosh… I’m pretty sure she lost hers in the storm.” Kate knew how much Brooke had adored that thing. She wished there was something she could do.

“Right, I guess she would have…” Lynn sighed. “Since she lost so much, like you did… well. I hope she knows she’s loved, too.”

Kate rested her head against Lynn’s, shutting her eyes again, as a smile stole across her face. “Yes. She is.”

Chapter Text

Friday, October 18th 2013 [ Brooke ]

Just like Richard had told Brooke in the diner at the start of the week, the Marsh Family Chore Chart was law. It had spared her so far, leaving her days idle. She guessed that she was grateful not to have to worry about it while she was still getting her bearings, but to be honest, starting to be included on the chart was a bit of a relief. Without much in the way of activity, Brooke tended to get inside her own head a lot. She’d had more than her fair share of that since arriving and was eager for a change.

Actually seeing the chart, however, had left Brooke feeling rather hesitant. Her very first chore as a member of the household was apparently to clean up after breakfast with Kate’s mother.

Now, Brooke didn’t consider herself the best at reading people. Sure, she had made some vitally correct guesses about Nathan and Jefferson, but that whole week was full of the supernatural. It was a contaminated data set, not much good for basing a theory off of.

Nevertheless, despite her usual difficulties with sensing motive, it still hadn’t escaped her notice that Mrs. Marsh didn’t seem to like her very much. She had feigned a calm and collected reaction to this subject when Kate had mentioned it at the start of the week, but if she was honest with herself, Brooke would admit that she was worrying, too. That “playing it cool” strategy of hers hadn’t borne much fruit.

Maybe she just had to be more patient. If she kept being helpful and relatively quiet like she had been, then there was nothing Kate’s mom could find issue with her for.

“Here, Brooke.” The voice startled her out of her thoughts, and when she looked up, she saw that she was being handed a pan. She had been scrubbing the last couple in the sink with the sleeves of one of her new flannel shirts rolled up to her elbows. The last pan was definitely clean now with how she’d been mindlessly cleaning it for a couple of minutes, lost in thought.

“Thanks,” she said as she took it and started to give it the same treatment. She spared a quick look at Mrs. Marsh, who went back to cleaning the counter nearby.

A moment more of awkward silence passed before the older woman broke the silence again, though she didn’t look up from her task. “There were some things I wanted to say while we had a moment to ourselves.”

Brooke glanced nervously in her direction. “Yes, Mrs. Marsh?” Calling her ‘Carolann’ felt… wrong. She hadn’t given her permission to use her first name like Richard had.

“You’ve been a good house guest so far,” Mrs. Marsh said, never looking up from her cleaning. “Picking up after yourself, not bumping around at night. I wanted to let you know that I notice and appreciate that.”

Brooke’s shoulders eased a bit. Was that it? “Oh. Yeah, of course. I’d never want to be a mooch.”

“But I’ve also noticed you don’t say grace with us at dinner, and the look on your face when we discuss church matters. I know you’re not saved.”

The 180 was so unexpected that Brooke did a double-take, her hands stopping mid-scrub. It took her a second to understand the second part of Mrs. Marsh’s statement, but even after she did, she judged it wiser to not say anything, just staring at her instead.

“It’s your choice to risk yourself like that,” Mrs. Marsh went on to say, her tone dismissive, “but this is a Christian household, and our daughters have been raised in the faith.” Finally, she turned and pinned Brooke with an icy stare, her eyes slightly narrowed. “Keep your doubts to yourself. If I learn that you’ve tried to sway any of them away from the right path, you will be out of here. Do I make myself clear?”

Jesus, what? The ironic phrasing of the thought was lost on Brooke, who was too bewildered by this suspicion to even speak coherently. Did Mrs. Marsh think that all unbelievers were conspiring to send good Christians to Hell or something? She was a mixture of offended, mortified, and just outright confused. As she tried to marshal her thoughts again, she heard the doorbell ring, and the sound of Richard emerging from his office to go answer. Moments later, his voice echoed down the hall.

“Katie? Brooke? Can you come here please?”

Don’t have to tell me twice. Brooke shook the soapy water off her hands and beat a hasty retreat out of the kitchen, followed shortly after by a frowning Mrs. Marsh.

Brooke arrived at the front door at the same time Kate did, coming down from her room, and they shared a confused look with each other. Richard stepped aside to reveal a pair of clean-shaven men standing on the doorstep in matching mac raincoats with gray suits underneath.

“Good afternoon. Are you Katherine Marsh and Brooke Scott?” The question was asked by the man standing subtly to the fore of the other, marking himself as the leader of the pair. He was light-skinned and had a dark brown crew cut that made Brooke think of David Madsen. The man behind him had a stout build and olive-tinted skin.

“Um, yeah.”

“Yes?”

Once both of them had confirmed that, the two men reached into their jackets and flashed their badges, creepily in sync. “Special Agent Robert Tanner and Agent Andrew Tzavaras, Federal Bureau of Investigation,” the man with the crew cut intoned. “We’d like to ask you both some questions about Mark Jefferson.”

Despite everything crazy that she had experienced so far, Brooke had not expected the actual literal FBI to come calling. Local or state police, maybe. She’d had no clue that the Jefferson investigation had gone federal.

“Hasn’t that monster taken enough from our daughter already without her reliving everything that happened?” Richard protested, his brow creased with worry. But Kate turned, looking between him and her mother, her expression serene.

“Pop. It’s fine. This sort of thing was going to happen. And my statement will help to put this all to bed, right?” Kate looked to Tanner, questioning.

He nodded. “That’s certainly our hope.”

“Brooke will be there too,” Kate added, looking her way with a small, shy smile. “We’ll be fine.”

Brooke took courage in Kate’s calm assuredness, nodding back.

“We will need to question you separately,” Tzavaras noted. “The Lincoln City PD has lent us a couple of rooms at their station for the occasion. But we’ll drive you there and back together.”

“Alright,” Brooke agreed, having no further questions or concerns for her own part. Somehow, getting grilled by the feds was a more appealing prospect than getting grilled by Kate’s mom.

As the girls and the two agents piled into a black sedan together and started to drive into town, Brooke deflated a bit, letting out a small breath. She tilted her head to gaze out the window and contemplate the scenery, watching trees and fields roll past. Her moments of relative calm quickly ended as she spotted something out of the window which chilled her blood.

In a grassy field between two houses, there was a very familiar golden eagle, one which she hadn’t seen since before the storm. It had pinned a large owl, of all things, and was wrestling with it, their talons grappling. As the FBI sedan went by, the eagle stopped and looked at Brooke, allowing the owl to slip free and fly away in a cloud of shed feathers.

The birds passed out of view, and Brooke did not see what happened next.

Brooke was still feeling perturbed minutes later, now sitting in a plain gray room at a plain gray table. Special Agent Tanner was sitting across from her, a pitcher of water and two cups between them. He was perusing a file, a running tape recorder sitting near his elbow.

“So,” Tanner began, “I think it would be best to go over things in the order they happened. Could you start by stating your full name and providing some background on how you first met Mark Jefferson?”

“Brooke Ánh Scott,” she answered, folding her hands nervously in her lap. “Formerly of Arcadia Bay, Oregon. I was a student at Blackwell Academy until it was… destroyed this past Friday. I didn’t take any photography classes, but I did meet Jefferson three times at the school before I ever suspected him of any crimes.”

“Could you describe the nature of these meetings for me? Were you alone with him?”

Brooke shook her head. “There were other witnesses to all three. My friend Kate Marsh, who’s in the other room, was there for the first two. My other friend Max– uh, Maxine Caulfield, was there for the latter two. There were others, but as far as I’m aware, everyone else is–” A lump in her throat. “Deceased.”

Tanner nodded slowly and gestured for Brooke to continue. She rallied and did so, starting with the first meeting. “I encountered him for the first time walking Kate to her photography class. That was… the Wednesday before last, I think. October 2nd?” At the agent’s nod she continued. “It was a pretty normal conversation, all things considered. Short, too…”

She went on, explaining in brief how something about Jefferson had creeped her out on that first meeting. Then came an explanation of how she witnessed a conversation where Jefferson belittled Kate on Tuesday the 8th, and later that same day, the meeting that took place in Principal Wells’s office.

“… When all that was said and done,” she concluded, “I decided to make use of my time off from classes because of the rooftop incident to investigate what had been happening to Kate, and Rachel Amber before her.”

“Did you know Rachel Amber, Miss Scott?”

“Not personally,” she admitted. “We were classmates, but not friends.”

“Okay. And could you explain your reasoning for becoming involved in this investigation? Or the reason why you didn’t contact the police first?”

Brooke squirmed, feeling some awkward questions on the way. “Look, uh, am I in trouble?”

“Not at all,” Tanner hastened to say. “We just want to cover all of our bases to make sure that the prosecution can build a stronger case.”

A stronger– wait. “Jefferson is still alive?”

The agent blinked and looked up from the file at her. “I’m sorry, I assumed you already knew.”

Brooke knew it was a possibility at least. Her wishful thinking had just blinkered her vision, making her assume that Tanner and his partner were just tying up loose ends. Quickly doing some mental calculus, Brooke realized that she could find herself in a pretty sticky spot if any of the various misdemeanors she, Max, or Chloe committed in pursuit of the truth came up in court. She swallowed and said, “I… I think I need a lawyer on hand before I go into that.”

Blinking once more, Tanner nodded and then switched the tape recorder off. “Not a problem. Do you already have an attorney?” Brooke shook her head in the negative, and Tanner continued, “One will be provided for you, then. Let’s take a break to get them down here before we continue.”

Brooke stepped out into the lobby of the police station, where she was offered a seat and a cup of coffee. She stared at her lap as she sipped it, until, some minutes later, Kate emerged from the back with Agent Tzavaras.

She stood to greet Kate, who upon spotting her immediately walked up and enveloped her in a tight hug. Brooke still considered herself an awkward hugger at best, but she would never complain about how openly touchy-feely Kate was. She usually found it comforting, and especially so in hard moments like this.

The FBI agent smiled tightly, nodded, and went back into the halls of the station, leaving them to talk for a moment. Once he was gone, Kate pulled back a little and said, “I heard you had to stay behind to talk with them some more…”

“Yeah,” Brooke answered in a chagrined mumble. “We need to wait for a lawyer to come down from Portland to talk me through some things.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “A lawyer? Are you being charged with something?”

“Gee, I hope not,” Brooke mumbled. Seeing Kate’s worry grow from that ill-advised bit of sarcasm, Brooke grimaced and corrected herself. “No, I don’t think so. It’s just that, uh… we did maybe flaunt the law a bit while tracking down the evidence of the crimes.” She took a self-conscious glance around to make sure nobody with a badge was overhearing this. “I think it’ll be fine, but I needed a lawyer to cover my ass and make sure I don’t put my foot in my mouth and fuck it up like I usually do.”

“I’ll stay here in the lobby while you wait, then,” Kate decided.

“Dude, it’s probably going to be, like, an hour or two. You can run on home, it’s fine.”

“I’ll stay here,” Kate repeated, stolid, reminding Brooke that her stubbornness could sometimes be very charming. Brooke gave her a smile, and they sat together in the lobby, sharing a donut.

Brooke’s estimate ended up being somewhat optimistic; it was closer to three hours before the attorney she was waiting for walked in through the front door with a police officer as an escort. When Brooke rose, Kate gave her hand a squeeze, which Brooke returned before she was off to the rooms in the back again.

After some time alone with the lawyer from Portland, a rather straight-faced man with a monotonous voice, Brooke managed to get her circumstances across and come up with a plan. They went back to Special Agent Tanner together and laid out the precepts of a plea deal so that Brooke could give her full testimony without worrying about being arrested for whatever minor crimes had been involved. The whole thing was still somewhat nerve wracking, to say nothing of the jitters she started feeling when she recounted being held at gunpoint. That encounter had been giving her nightmares all week.

When it was all said and done, Brooke was left dry-mouthed and exhausted. After taking a long sip of water, she nervously asked Tanner, “Do you think he’ll be convicted?”

“Almost certainly,” Tanner replied as he sorted all the loose papers back into his manila folder. “Kidnapping, murder, and thanks to your testimony we can hit him with assault with a deadly weapon, too. The testimony of other witnesses will shape things further, and it’s up to the judge where sentencing is concerned, but under the current administration, it’s likely he’s going to get life without parole.”

Brooke thought that was better than the bastard deserved, but she wouldn’t say so. Instead she just mumbled a thank-you, limply shaking Tanner’s and the lawyer’s hands before being escorted out again.

She found Kate still waiting outside – bless that girl, seriously – but they exchanged no further words as Agent Tzavaras drove them back to the Marsh family home. It was late afternoon by that point, but Brooke felt like she was already fit to go to bed. The whole day had been lousy, and as she groaned into her pillow in the guest room, she considered that most of it was her fault.

It was her stupid idea to call the cops to the junkyard in the first place, something which hadn’t mattered in the end since they had needed to rescue themselves anyway. And it had left behind a paper trail despite the destruction of the ABPD, which meant that now on top of her mom and most of her classmates dying, losing everything she had, and being cast adrift with no future to speak of, she had to deal with all this stupid legal bullshit, too.

Maybe she and Max should have just let Chloe bash Jefferson’s head in after all. If it weren’t for Brooke’s bright idea, that could have resolved everything.

There was no use dwelling on might have beens. This was the world she lived in now, bleak as it was, between a hostile hostess and the possibility of being called to the stand at Jefferson’s trial at some indefinite point in the future. She wished she could sleep through it all, but in the end, this was beyond her power, just like most things in her life.

She fired off a text to Max to warn her that the feds were sniffing around, only to learn that the two of them had already been visited by the FBI up in Seattle a couple of days before, and did more or less the same thing, lawyering up and getting everything out in the open. Brooke guessed that all they could do was wait and see how it shook out. Once it got dark outside, she set her phone aside and closed her eyes.

When sleep finally took her a couple of hours later, she dreamt of ruffled, golden feathers falling from the sky, and silver metal glinting threateningly in the night. She did not rest easily.

Chapter Text

Sunday, October 20th 2013 – Part One [ Kate ]

Once upon a time, when Kate was small, her family’s church was her favorite place in the whole world. It was always warm like a soft hug inside the brick and mortar structure, and being under its slate-gray roof had never failed to make her feel safe. Thinking of the sensations now brought to mind Sunday school, which she had always loved; despite it being rather unchristian of her, she’d taken some pride in being the best at memorizing verses in all of her age groups, a habit which she only broke after her confirmation and a few more years’ worth of wisdom.

Even after the comforting illusions of years past faded away and Kate ceased feeling welcome at home, the church continued to be an escape for her, a place of safety. She hoped that after the passing of the better part of a month, and the tectonic shifts in her life which had transpired, it would continue to do so. That place was her real home, and she was glad to be going back.

These thoughts bounced around her head as she strode down the stairs, her favorite yellow Sunday dress immaculate, but still fixing the faux-pearl earrings her Aunt May had given her for Christmas the year before. She found her father waiting by the door, checking his texts. He looked up at her with a smile.

“Sorry for the wait, Pop, I just couldn’t find my shoes anywhere… Did I hold you guys up?”

“No harm done, honey, we’re still waiting on Brooke anyway.”

Brooke? Thrown for a loop, Kate heard footsteps on the stairs behind her and turned to look. Her eyes almost popped out of her head when she saw her friend, dressed in a singularly unfamiliar fashion. She hadn’t bothered with jewelry or makeup like Kate had, but she was still clad in a rather cute dress, knee-length and black with white patterning on it.

“Hey,” Brooke greeted, fidgeting uncomfortably once she came to a stop by Kate and her dad. “Sorry, I had a hel–… uh, heck of a time getting this thing on.”

“Not a problem,” Pop said, then gestured at the door, starting to walk out. “I’ll get the car started.”

After a beat of silence, Kate just looked Brooke up and down once more and pronounced, quite earnestly, “Wow.”

Brooke rubbed the back of her head and averted her eyes. “I’m glad it looks good, if nothing else. I’m like, super uncomfortable in this. I haven’t worn a dress since I was four or five.”

This did bring a good question to mind for Kate. “Well, sure, but what are you doing? You know we don’t expect you to go to church with us if you don’t want to, right?”

“Well, I do want to,” Brooke stated definitively, brushing the skirt of her dress with her hand. “So, don’t worry. I’ll stay quiet and try to keep up.”

Kate sensed that there was more behind Brooke’s reasoning – possibly a lot more – but they were out of time to talk. She led her out to the car, and from there it was just the road ahead.

The church was about twenty minutes to the north, and with the family somewhat more cramped in the car than usual – “Mom, Grace is elbowing me!” “I’m not, stay on your side!” – … well, Kate had enjoyed more peaceful Sunday drives before. She breathed calmly through her nose and stared out her window, counting down the minutes.

The Marshes, as usual, ended up being one of the first families there, since Pop had his pastoral duties to see to before the service. They all piled out, pausing a second so Mom could fix the collar of Lynn’s blouse while her youngest sister squirmed. From there on, there were no further delays, and the six of them walked freely into the entrance of the church.

The room past the guest entrance was an expansive one, with a wide open floor and a ceiling following the contours of the gabled roof outside. The set of doors at the far side led to the sanctuary, above which a large cross was stuck on the wall. Off to the left was a coffee table with refreshments, where a few people were already gathered. They waved at the Marsh family as they entered, and Mom immediately went over to say hello, ushering her two youngest along as she did. Pop leaned over to kiss Kate on the top of the head before heading off to get ready, leaving just the two behind.

“It’s, uh…” Brooke appeared to struggle for an appropriate word for a minute. “Imposing.”

“It’s supposed to be welcoming,” Kate answered with a small giggle. “We have time before the service. I’ll show you around.” When Brooke nodded, Kate led her off into a side hallway branching off from the room.

As they went, she pointed out one notable spot from her childhood after another. There was the kitchen, where she’d accidentally spilled three pounds of flour trying to help make the communion bread once. There were the classrooms where she had attended Sunday school. Out that window, there was the jungle gym where she'd skinned her knee more times than she cared to admit.

When landmarks ran short, Kate finally had to double back on her questions from before, though she chose to go about it gracefully. “Have you been in very many churches before?”

Brooke hummed. “This would be the first, actually.”

Turning halfway toward Brooke while they moved, Kate giggled and teased her, “So all that time talking smack about religion, you’d never visited one, huh?”

Brooke rolled her eyes at that. “Hah, hah. I was worried about bursting into flames if I crossed the threshold.”

“Don’t worry, I’d be sure to roll you safely back outside,” Kate answered sweetly.

That prompted a dark chuckle from Brooke, who proceeded to look around the building as they slowly walked, her expression turning thoughtful again. Kate tilted her head at her and then asked, “So was it really just curiosity? Or what?”

Kate saw a flash of uncertainty cross Brooke’s face. Her friend turned to stare at a pinboard on the wall as they passed it, pretending to study the notices on it. “Well, I was a little bit curious. But… mostly I just didn’t want you to have to deal with this alone.”

That brought Kate up short. She stopped and looked quizzically at Brooke. “What do you mean? I have my family here.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course you do, but I mean like – someone who gets it. Someone who was at Blackwell with you.”

Understanding dawned on Kate. “You’re thinking I’ll get shunned or something? Get a Scarlet Letter pinned on me? I think you’re being a little overdramatic, Brooke. Everyone here already knows about Jefferson and everything. They know what really happened to me.” She tried to smile, but it felt strained. “This is a safe place for me. It always has been. We’ll be fine.”

Brooke blinked at her once, then slowly bobbed her head in a nod. She still looked uncertain, but Kate couldn’t take the time to reassure her more. The organist was starting to play over on the other side of the building. “Sounds like we should get to the sanctuary. I’m excited for you to get to see your first Christian service.”

“Color me stoked,” Brooke chimed, giving an exceedingly dorky thumbs-up. Kate rolled her eyes and took Brooke by the hand to lead her on back.

They returned to hymnal music playing softly on the organ and a sanctuary that was mostly full. Morning sunlight passed through stained glass windows bearing images of the Apostles, casting the gathering in many colors. Kate’s mother and sisters were seated in a pew near the middle, and had left two spots open by the aisle. Looking past her sisters at her mom, Kate saw that her Aunt May was sitting on the other side.

Kate reflected for a moment on how lucky she was that they wouldn’t be sitting next to each other, before chiding herself for getting hung up on petty disagreements in church. Shaking her head, she let Brooke sit next to Grace and took the furthest aisle seat for herself.

After the last few people filtered in, Kate’s father stepped up to the pulpit in his full garb as the music lowered into stillness. “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” he invoked, beginning the service.

Kate made sure to keep a close eye on Brooke as the first parts of the liturgy went by, giving her a quick tap to let her know when to stand or sit. When Kate sang a hymn along with the congregation, she noticed Brooke glancing at her out of the corner of her eye with an expression of interest, though Brooke didn’t seem to feel confident enough to join in.

“ If I still hold closely to him, what has he at last? Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, Jordan past… ”

Kate certainly hoped it was, at any rate. She stowed the thought when they moved on to the traditional Hymn of Praise, then finally the sermon. This was always her favorite part; she could listen to Pop talk for hours.

Wearing his customary gentle smile, he spoke to the crowd in a clear voice. “Before our sermon, we will begin with a reading from the First Epistle of John. Chapter two, verses one through eleven.” There was a nigh-omnipresent sound of pages turning as the congregants opened their Bibles to the right page. “My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin…” Kate mouthed along to the words, memorized by rote long ago, and only slowed to a stop as they came upon the ninth verse, stricken. “Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates a brother or sister is still in the darkness.”

Was that directed at her situation? She liked this passage for its urging to love other Christians, but the implications about its applicability to her own life embarrassed her. She didn’t need her father to scold those who had been leery of her. Wasn’t that sorry business already in the past?

Once the reading was complete, Pop moved on to the sermon proper. “I missed you all this past Sunday. Those of you who have been with us through all twenty of the years that we’ve shared together will know that I’ve never had any attendance issues, save for the occasional case of the man-flu…” He paused while a muted chuckle ran through the crowd. “… And that I always do my best to make up my homework. Last week, exceptional events intruded into my life, as happens to all of us so often in this world. Events which affected far more lives than just mine. Which upset our perception that life is, in some fashion, just made up of expected patterns…

“Last weekend, I missed our Sunday service because I was needed up at what used to be the town of Arcadia Bay. Although my way into the area avoided the worst of the damage, I was still witness to an awesome spectacle, one where the land was stripped bare and sturdy buildings were laid flat. As if a hand swept across the landscape, leaving a clean trail behind.

“It was enough to humble anyone, to remind us of how small we really are in the face of nature. But I was more humbled, by far, by the knowledge of what had been spared. When I pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, which was hit by the twister but still standing, I saw my daughter there and all I could say for several minutes was… thank God!” Then repeated for effect: “Thank God.”

He looked around, scanning the crowd for a second to let it sink in. “I wasn’t taking the Lord’s name in vain. I was singing my hosannas the only way I knew how. Because it sank in, in that moment, just how incredibly lucky I was. My daughter Katherine was one of the three-hundred and fifty-three souls who survived the Arcadia Bay disaster. Another is here with us today. I’d like to spare a moment here to greet Katherine’s friend, Brooke Scott, who is attending for the first time. And to express my wish that her time here sees her blessed with all the kindness and hospitality that we have to offer.”

Kate saw dozens of heads swivel toward Brooke, who shrank a little before offering a meek wave hello in return to the smattering of polite applause she received. Kate also realized, however, that aside from the curious stares at Brooke, the eyes of several were straying more in Kate’s direction. She squirmed in discomfort before her father spoke again, drawing attention back to himself.

“Questions of why often follow disasters like these. Why here? Why to these people? Like those who walked before us, we are forced to acknowledge that God’s ways are higher, and He will often elude our understanding. But no; the question I wanted to ask today was: what now?

“When John the Evangelist wrote the words that we read before the sermon, almost two-thousand years ago, the early Christian Church was, much like the Church today, riven with division and conflict. John penned that Epistle with the aim of reminding his brothers and sisters of what unified them; namely, the life and death of Jesus Christ.

“Fellowship is what has always made our community strong. It brought us through the persecutions of the Roman authorities in the early centuries, and still keeps us steadfast today. Now comes a time where we must extend our brotherly love outside of the walls of this church, outside the bonds of our congregation. As James the Just reminds us in his own Epistle, non-believers, too, are made in the image of God.

“So, over the coming days and weeks, you will see bins and volunteer sheets in the room outside as we organize a food and clothing drive for those struggling in the wake of last week’s disaster. I ask also that you keep the people of Arcadia Bay in your prayers in this difficult time.”

As the sermon drew to a close, Kate found herself feeling a bit silly for thinking that the reading was about her. It had tied quite beautifully into the point her father was actually making. Despite telling herself this, she kept noticing stares through the rest of the service, and felt that feeling of security slip slowly away, bit by bit.

Once the service let out, Kate strolled back into the entry room with Brooke at her side. As people bustled past, she smiled at her friend and asked, “So what did you think?”

Brooke measured her words for a second. “It was interesting. I didn’t know you were a good singer, for instance.”

Kate laughed softly. “I’m okay. I had a bit of choir practice when I was young, is all… What about you?”

Brooke shook her head fiercely. “Oh, no way. I can’t hold a key, let alone read a music sheet. That’s why I didn’t even try to keep up with the hymns.”

Kate patted her arm. “You have other talents. What about the rest of the service?”

“I did sort of expect all the prayer and recitation, but I was a bit surprised by how little of the service was ‘original content’, so to speak… So, you know, like, just the sermon. Your dad’s a good speaker, by the way.”

“He has been doing this for a long time,” Kate noted with a hint of pride. “But he’s gifted, too. I always love his sermons. The rest stays mostly the same as a matter of tradition. Many of the pieces go back to Luther’s catechisms and the Reformation, and a few even go all the way back to the early Church. They remind us of the deep history of our community and our connection to Jesus’ original disciples.”

Brooke rubbed her arm. “That’s cool. I may not come all the time. Or most of the time. Mostly because if I have to put on a dress again, I think I might barf.” Then she admitted, “I didn’t actually feel any sort of… divine glow or revelation, sorry. You are supposed to feel that sort of thing here, right?”

I wondered the same thing, Kate thought sadly as her enthusiasm for getting to explain her faith faded. The history and liturgy still fascinated her as much as they ever had, but that ‘glow’ seemed to be gone, with no indication yet that it would come back.

Before she could answer Brooke out loud, a familiar-looking girl walked past, and Kate perked up. “Jenny? Jenny Tremayne, is that you?”

Sure enough, the long, straight red hair was the same. Kate hadn’t actually seen Jenny in a few years, but they had been such good friends in seventh and eighth grade. She guessed that she hadn’t been attending services regularly, or they never would have missed each other.

When Jenny met her eyes, though, there was a look of confusion on her pretty face, before her nose actually wrinkled slightly. “I need to get going,” the girl hurriedly excused herself, and rushed on, leaving Kate standing poleaxed and wondering what just happened.

Only when Brooke came up alongside her, frowning with concern and resting a hand on Kate’s shoulder, did she realize the truth.

There was no such thing as coming home.

Chapter Text

Sunday, October 20th 2013 – Part Two [ Brooke ]

Today had been educational for Brooke, just not exactly in all the ways that she had anticipated. Seeing Kate so excited to go to church had disabused Brooke of her notion, formulated back when they were in school together, that the church was responsible for the weekly slumps in Kate’s mood that she’d noted every Sunday; now it was obvious that the church was an escape, and that the difficult parts came when she was at home.

Seeing Kate’s enthusiasm dwindle and die before her eyes had been kind of crushing, and Brooke’s heart broke for her. She had seriously wanted to hawk down that Jenny chick and give her a piece of her damned mind for treating Kate like that, but had, for better or worse, thought better of it in the end.

She’d still found it hard to take her eyes off Kate the whole way back to the house, as if she could psychically project all of her worry and care to take off some of the weight visibly resting on her shoulders. In the packed car there was no chance to talk, leaving Brooke feeling singularly useless.

Brooke was still ruminating about all of this at the kitchen table, slowly making her way through some hashbrowns, but she had a whole new challenge on her plate. Namely, Kate’s Aunt May, who was indeed just as much of a “not very nice person” as Kate had once told her.

May seemed to be the sort of person who sucked up all the air in a room for herself. Her voice, loud and strident, barreled over every other in its path to dictate the flow of conversation wherever she wished it. Currently she was using that privilege to shit all over some minority group or another, while the girls ate in awkward silence, Richard furrowed his brow in consternation, and Mrs. Marsh nodded along in quiet agreement.

Sooner or later, Richard lost his patience with it and urged, “May, show some grace, please? We’re better than this, and the topic really isn’t brunch appropriate anyway...”

“A sense of humor is a wonderful gift, Richard,” the woman sniffed. “But alright.” Her eyes searched the table for a new target, and landed on Kate. Brooke felt herself tense protectively, but forced herself to do nothing. “Katie, dear, I heard you had to go into town to talk to the police the other day? Awful business…”

Kate studiously kept eye contact and a straight back, but her voice was missing its usual warmth and character. “The federal agents who talked to me were very polite. I’m just hopeful that what I told them can help put this whole thing to rest.”

“Oh, I hope so, I can tell it’s taken its toll. You look like you’ve lost a few pounds since I saw you last, have you been eating well?”

“I’ve been doing my best,” Kate answered. Brooke saw Kate’s hand ball up against her leg under the table.

“Well, you keep doing that. You’re back among godly people now, and this is a time for healing.” Seeming very proud of herself for her insight, May then turned her attention on Brooke, who stiffened under her eye. “It was Brit, right?”

“Brooke.”

“Brooke. How have you been finding your time here with my family?” There was just a little emphasis on ‘my’.

A game of two halves, Brooke thought. Kate’s dad and sisters were pretty cool, but she was finding it hard to stand so many of the people around them. Wisely, she fibbed and said, “It’s been lovely. Um. Nothing but the best hospitality.”

May sipped her tea and nodded along slowly. “Mm. Good to hear. And you’re, what, Chinese? Do you come from a big family?”

Brooke’s lips thinned a bit in dismay. “Vietnamese. And no, we have some distant relations we never talk to, but it was just me and my mom for most of my life.”

“I see… She must have passed away in the Arcadia Bay disaster. Terrible.”

Mrs. Marsh finally interjected to say, “We’ve been doing everything we can to accommodate her, of course,” which started off a whole new tangent between her and May. Brooke had hoped that going to church today would, along with everything else she’d hoped to accomplish, get Mrs. Marsh off her back. Brooke wasn’t sure if this was better or worse. She stared at her plate, embarrassed and angry.

Seemingly having had enough of this, Kate turned to her and said, “Oh, Brooke, you know that book I brought with me from the school? Could you go and grab it from the suitcase in my room? I wanted to show everyone.”

It took Brooke a moment to realize what Kate was doing. When she did, she raised her eyebrows and nodded quickly. God, I could kiss that girl, she thought with earnest gratitude, taking the excuse to escape the table and go upstairs.

Once in Kate’s room, Brooke knelt down and pulled the suitcase open. The book Kate mentioned was real enough, and it rested up against one side of the case, standing on its spine. Of all things, it was Kate’s copy of The October Country. Brooke pulled it out and set it aside, but she couldn’t help her eyes lingering on the other contents which had gone mostly undisturbed in the past week.

So many gifts and cards. There were less here than Brooke remembered; some must have been ruined in the storm. For those students who didn’t make it, whose houses and families disappeared in the tempest as well, Brooke supposed that these items were the last remnants of them on earth. A chilling thought.

She picked up one item, a lightly water-damaged piece of nice sketching paper, which bore a striking illustration of an aged man bent at a desk to write, a skull resting not far from his arm. It was rendered in pencil with wonderfully done cross-hatching for the shadows. She studied the signature on it for a moment before realizing it belonged to Daniel.

He really was on his way to being a great artist. Now this might be all that was left. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to that museum with you, Brooke thought with refreshed guilt and regret, before shaking her head and setting it aside.

With that item out of the way, something else caught her eye: her own face. Though she felt a little self-conscious for snooping, Brooke carefully extracted a sketchbook which she had seen Kate drawing in many times before. On the opened page there were a couple of different portraits of Brooke. Did Kate do these from memory? They look… really good.

Impressed, Brooke leafed a couple pages forward, and a couple of pages back. Though interspersed with drawings of other people both alive and dead, her face featured the most regularly. She started to feel a little heat rise in her cheeks, though she couldn’t say why. She guessed she was just a little flustered about taking up so much real estate; she really didn’t think she warranted that kind of attention.

As she turned one last page, she was greeted by a sketch of what could only be Warren Graham, wearing that familiar smile and looking off slightly to the side. Her thoughts stilled for a moment; she hadn’t been able to bring herself to look at any of the photos of her late friends on her phone just yet.

He and Kate were friends too, Brooke reflected sadly. I bet she misses him like I do.

Should they… talk about it at some point? A knot of discomfort twisted up in Brooke’s stomach, but she did not have much time to dwell before an unaccountable premonition came over her. Somebody was about to enter. She closed the sketchbook and set it back where it belonged, and a second later, Kate’s middle sister, Grace, poked her head in.

“Hey, Brooke…? May just left, the coast is clear.”

“Thanks. I wonder if Kate still wants this,” she remarked, rising with the book tucked under her arm.

Grace giggled, a sound slightly muted behind her hand. “You’d have to ask her.” The younger girl stole a glance over her shoulder, then asked, “Could I have a moment of your time before you go back down? I wanted some advice on a science project.”

“You came to the right nerd,” Brooke pronounced, relieved for the new distraction. “Let’s have a look at it.”

Grace’s room reminded Brooke a lot of her own, or at least how it had been once upon a time. There wasn’t any anime or nerd merch per se, but Grace’s interest in the sciences was plain everywhere, from the star field printed on the wallpaper, to a painting of the Andromeda Galaxy on the wall (by Kate, Brooke thought), to a Carnegie Collection mammoth figure on a shelf.

Grace had been fairly shy ever since Brooke arrived, and she hadn’t been sure what to make of the quieter of Kate’s two sisters. Seeing this, she was beginning to understand a little better why Grace tried to blend into the background. Like Brooke, she was probably eager not to piss Mrs. Marsh off with the appearance of ungodliness.

Even with that aside, Brooke doubted that the girl had many people to talk about her interests with. It explained why she seemed to be brimming with excitement right now as she pulled something out from under her desk which was covered with a blanket for protection. It rested on the desk with a deceptively light ‘clunk’ despite its size, a little too wide for Grace’s arms to accommodate comfortably. When she drew the blanket away, Brooke whistled appreciatively.

“The geologic column. Nice.” It was a diorama, with a cardboard backing and layers of differently-colored styrofoam to indicate succeeding geological formations. Judging by the succession of names on carefully drawn labels (Fox Hills, Hell Creek, Fort Union, Wasatch, Green River) she guessed it was supposed to reflect an actual location. “This is, what, Montana?”

“Wyoming,” Grace said, her hands clasped together anxiously. “It’s color-coded for the types of rock, too.”

Looking at a key for the colors taped to the cardboard backdrop at the top, Brooke nodded approvingly. “You even got the post-Cretaceous iridium layer in there,” she pointed out, tracing the white-gray line atop the Hell Creek Formation with her finger. “You want a grade? I’d give you an A. I’d make it a plus if you had the chronological span of each formation on there too.”

Grace went from flushed with pride to slightly meek, looking off to the side. “I go to a Christian private school,” she reminded her.

Brooke blinked. “Oh. So it’s, like… all Flood geology over there, huh?”

The girl nodded, in a bit of a huff. “It’s dumb, but I… can’t include all the information I’d really like to.”

Glancing across the room at the bookshelf from which the mammoth lorded over the room, Brooke saw a lot of books with “Creation” in the title, but interspersed here and there, as if by accident, there was a bit of Carl Sagan and Stephen Jay Gould.

Ding-ding-ding! Brooke’s baby atheist detector was going off! She almost laughed – imagine the look on Mrs. Marsh’s face when she learned that Brooke had nothing to do with corrupting her girls away from the good and wholesome truth – before she realized the seriousness of the situation and sobered up a little. She decided not to bring up the elephant in the room (the one that wasn’t a mammoth) and turned her attention back to the diorama.

“I don’t know if there’s actually one in this region, but maybe you could slice out a bit to put some kind of igneous intrusion going through the strata? I bet your teacher would be impressed by the attention to detail.”

Grace’s eyes lit up again at that as she regained some of her enthusiasm. “Oh! Hmm. It might be a pain to cut through the bits I did already, but I bet you’re right.” Then, beaming rather than smiling shyly as Brooke had seen her do before, she said, “It’s really cool having someone around I can actually talk to about this stuff.”

“Any time,” Brooke promised, feeling very sympathetic. She was beginning to realize how lucky she was to have a mom who was hands-off about this sort of stuff. “As long as we don’t give your mom any excuses to flip her lid. I’m kind of on thin ice with her as it is.”

Grace’s smile turned impish. “What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, right?”

Thinking of Mrs. Marsh’s nodding along to May’s bullshit at the brunch table, Brooke dryly remarked, “What your mom doesn’t know could probably fill a whole encyclopedia.”

They both shared a laugh at that, and Brooke’s heart lightened a bit. She hadn’t expected to find a kindred spirit here, but she promised herself in that moment to do all she could to support Grace’s journey – whether Mrs. Marsh liked it or not.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, October 23rd 2013 [ Brooke ]

Brooke was baptized again in the harsh glow of a computer screen, and for a moment all seemed right in the world. It may have just been a public library computer, incapable of most of the things she’d been able to do on her own machine, but having even a hint of normalcy back was a treasured gift.

The library was a nice place all around, really. Fairly small and cozy, it had a carpeted floor, and few of the shelves went any higher than Brooke’s head. It didn’t have the same selection that a massive metro library might, but then again, the best Brooke had been able to count on before was the Blackwell library and, every so often, loans from other institutions. The atmosphere was a quiet and calm one, too; it was definitely a nice break from the tension and bustle of the Marsh household.

If Brooke had her way, she’d make the library her new favorite haunt, whiling away the hours at the computers or flipping through their books. But it was a few miles away from the house, and for the moment, she was at the mercy of the bus schedule. Currently, there was just half an hour left before she needed to roll out again.

Sure, she had a driver’s license, but how was she going to get a car? With what money? Maybe a bike would be a more sensible investment in the short term. Probably better for keeping herself from turning into a total couch potato, too.

That was a problem for later; there were better uses for her brief time here. Like checking her email inbox, for instance. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to see there aside from spam and promotions. It seemed that nobody with a pulse had been trying to reach her, which honestly made her a bit sad. Warren used to send me scientific articles and stupid website links. She banished the thought with a shake of her head and turned her attention to catching up on what she’d missed in the news.

There was plenty to read, but not a whole lot of direct importance to her. State and regional news had been following the Arcadia Bay aftermath very closely, and even national news outlets had run a few stories, all accentuating the bizarre fluke that was the manifestation of a violent tornado in a region where they never occurred.

They didn’t make any mention whatsoever of the anomalies that had taken place over the four days preceding the storm. It seemed like that was just going to be memory-holed, as if it was a bad dream that didn’t even warrant their attention.

Brooke thought back to her conversation with Warren the night before the storm, and her speculation about a temporal rift opening over or near the town. By all reports, the weather in the area had followed forecasts as normal ever since that Friday. It seemed like whatever had been going on, it had well and truly ceased, as if the storm was just the breaking point it reached before snapping back to normal.

Just thinking about it all made her feel like a crazy person; her best theory was the stuff of sci-fi and conspiracy theories, and worse, she had no proof. Nobody would ever believe her if she spoke the whole truth about what went down that week. Nobody but the few who had survived it with her.

Is this what life is like on the fringe? I almost feel bad for the flat-earthers now…

Sighing, she clicked on another news story from out of Salem. It seemed like the governor’s office was working with the Oregon state legislature to push out a bill to help the victims of the disaster. Financial aid was supposedly already on the way from FEMA (though Brooke hadn’t seen a dime of it yet), but this bill was aimed more at job and schooling opportunities. It seemed like the idea was to smooth the transition for those left unemployed or without education because of the disaster into new positions elsewhere in the state.

The article wasn’t clear on how long that was going to take, and honestly Brooke had never paid enough attention in social studies to have an expectation for how fast the state legislature usually operated. Either way, it seemed likely that she would be on her own for a bit before the government could actually finalize everything.

Despite all of her complicated feelings about the disaster, its aftermath, and its meaning for her future, Brooke decided that it was probably smart to get a leg up on the whole schooling thing now rather than waiting for something else to happen. The one sticking point right now was finding a school that would actually admit her halfway through the year, since she figured the window for this semester was past. Showing some initiative now might impress the right people, she thought.

So she found herself scanning through the local school district’s website, finding and copying down contact information, saving a copy of their schedule for the Spring 2014 term to a thumb drive, and looking over their other public-facing information. After looking at the main high school in the city for a moment, her attention drifted to the career and technical high school. Based on the buzz about the place online, the STEM programs there were pretty good.

One program in particular caught her eye, making her brows raise. Pacific Northwest Drone Academy? Pulling up the webpage, Brooke saw that the program offered both hands-on work with drones as well as courses specialized around aviation. Well, fuck, that sounded absolutely perfect for her.

Still, she forced herself to temper her enthusiasm a little. She might not even be accepted, after all. All she could do for now was put her best foot forward. She drafted an email with a copy of her CV, addressed it to the appropriate people at the district, and hit send.

Brooke let out a heavy breath and sank back in the creaky library chair she was sitting in. Glancing at the clock at the bottom corner of the screen, she saw that she had finished right on the dot. Picking up her crap and fastidiously logging out of everything, she stood up and hurried on out, hoping to make it to the bus stop on time.

Still drifting along on a cloud of anxiety, Brooke was almost relieved by the feeling of her phone buzzing as she boarded the bus. Whoever was waiting on the other end would make for a welcome distraction from her own fucked-up brain.

As she sank into the cracked gray pleather of her seat and the bus got rolling, she got a load of the name on the texts and blinked in surprise. Huh.

Chloe: hey

Chloe: hey

Chloe: montgomery scott

Chloe: scotty

Chloe: y didn’t i think of that first instead of the redshirt thing

Chloe: way funnier

Brooke: hello to you too, chloe.

Brooke: what’s the occasion?

Chloe: max pointed out that i probably shouldn’t be ghosting everyone from the bay

Chloe: & that talking to more people than just her would help me not go funny in the head

Chloe: sry shit’s cray cray

Brooke: that’s one way of putting it.

Chloe: so this is me reestablishing contact with ensign scott on the planetary surface

Chloe: my battle sista from another battle mista

Chloe: my fellow veteran of the psychic wars

Brooke rolled her eyes. This would be annoying from literally anyone else, but Chloe somehow managed to make it charming instead.

Brooke: missed you too.

Brooke: it’s fine, i could have texted first but i’ve been a total geek. we did part on kind of strange terms.

Chloe: i guess

Chloe: rachel was dead and there was a serial killer on the loose so i wasn’t really at my best

Brooke: no yeah i get it.

Brooke: i don’t think i ever got to say how sorry i am.

Chloe: yeah well

Chloe: i never got to say how grateful i am

Chloe: so take that

Brooke: oh c’mon.

Chloe: no i’m being srs actually

Chloe: you are a fking superstar brooke

Chloe: you saved my ass and max’s back there

Chloe: just don’t forget how cool you are while you’re living in obscurity in lincoln city k??

Brooke: alright, i won’t.

The corner of Brooke’s lip twitched. She hated the hero worship BS that had been thrown at her during her last week at Blackwell, but Chloe was just trying to buoy her spirits. She appreciated it. She took a second to look out the window at the town rolling by before changing topics.

Brooke: so how are things now that i’m not third wheeling the girl bromance?

Chloe: i’m calling foul!! i told you it ain’t no stinkin girl bromance!!!

Brooke: not that you complained about her climbing all over you ofc.

Chloe: . . .

Brooke: you know i’m pretty sure gay marriage is legal up there.

Chloe: DOT DOT DOT…

Brooke: (￢◡￢)

Chloe: just 2 girl best buds 4 lyfe hanging out at said bud’s parents place that’s it!!!

Chloe: AND NO EMOJI!

Brooke: why not?

Chloe: it’s of the devil

Chloe: especially that thing how’d u even make that???

Brooke: a true mistress of kaomoji is never unarmed.

Chloe: jesus h christ

Chloe: don’t tell katie cat i said that last bit

As it rounded the lake, the bus came to a stop a few blocks from the Marsh family home. Brooke stood and disembarked to start walking the rest of the way.

Brooke: sure.

Brooke: also katie cat? i didn’t know you were staying in touch.

Chloe: yeah she txted me a few days ago and we’ve been catching up

Chloe: but to actually for real answer ur question, EVIL ASPERSIONS ASIDE…

Chloe: we’ve been ok just processing it all u know

Brooke: i think i know exactly what you mean yeah.

Chloe: hey

Chloe: not to bring up the bad shit but max mentioned you lost your mom in the storm

Chloe: i did too

Brooke: shit, i’m sorry.

Chloe: point is if you need to talk with someone who gets it

Chloe: u got my number

Brooke wasn’t sure if she was ready to take Chloe up on that. She fired off another solitary text as she approached the front door to the house.

Brooke: thanks.

Chloe: natch

No sooner had Brooke stepped inside than Richard’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Brooke?”

Blinking, she lifted her head to call back, “Yeah, it’s me. What’s up?”

“Your mail that was getting held up finally arrived. Some of it looks pretty important.”

Brooke’s fingers tapped quickly as she walked over.

Brooke: gtg need to check my mail.

Chloe: wow i see where i rank

Brooke: bye chloe.

Brooke: :P 

Chloe: oh no you didn’t beeyotch!!!

Pocketing her phone, Brooke arrived in the kitchen to find Richard sitting at the table sipping from a mug of tea. He flashed a smile at her and gestured to a rather sizable stack of envelopes sitting at the other end. Her eyes widened a little at the sheer volume, and as she sat, Richard stood up.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me,” he told her gently, then walked out. This left her a little perplexed. Did some of the mail look serious enough to warrant giving her the space? Feeling a little nervous, she started to leaf through the envelopes.

Some of them were the usual junk, subscriptions she forgot to cancel, that sort of thing. A few were letters from people whose names she didn’t really recognize. It took her a minute to read a couple and realize that they were letters of sympathy from far-flung relations, cousins and uncles and aunts she’d never met.

She guessed if there was ever a time for them to want to introduce themselves, it would be now, or so her darker thoughts ran. Something in the expectant tone of the letters made her uncomfortable; she set them aside and found a different envelope with far more official lettering which gave her pause.

Inside there were several pieces of paper. The first was a printed letter, which she mumbled along with as she read, increasingly shaken. “Brooke Scott… named as a beneficiary in the last will and testament of Vera… Executor… Julie Carson?”

It took her a second to place the name, thinking back to a snippet of conversation with her mom one day. “Me and my friend Julie raised hell back then,” her mother had laughed at the end of some dubious high school story. “But she was always good at getting me out of trouble.”

She guessed they had stayed in touch over the years? Once again, Brooke was reminded of how little of their lives she and Mom had gotten to share with each other over the last few years, and she sullenly looked over the copy of the will that was printed across the remaining sheets. She had sort of pictured being piled into a room with the other beneficiaries for a will reading, but it seemed like that was just an invention of the silver screen.

No big surprises were to be found there; this laid out that the vast majority of Mom’s estate was entitled to her. Notably, none of those far-flung relations were mentioned. Brooke snorted derisively as she connected the dots there. There were some paragraphs setting aside monetary donations for charity, both for mental health research and advocacy. Brooke frowned, wondering if her mom had still felt some sort of guilt over what happened to Dad. The last bequest was a bit of money and some personal items for, again, Julie Carson. Curious.

Brooke spent a few minutes digesting everything she had just read, before finally picking up the last letter. She raised her eyebrows at the official letterhead stamped on the envelope. “Carson and Eagan… Julie Carson… Esquire?” Wait. The lawyer that her mom had occasionally referred to and her high school friend were the same person?

That was a whole other thing to make sense of, but Brooke sighed raggedly, just choosing to get the constant stream of revelations out of the way by reading the letter already.

Miss Brooke Scott,

By now you will have received a copy of the last will and testament of Mrs. Vera Pham-Scott in the mail. We at the offices of Carson & Eagan would like to extend our deepest sympathies for you in this challenging time.

You will have also seen that I was named executor in the will. Essentially what this means is that I am responsible for ensuring that all of the instructions of the will are carried out to the letter. Over the coming months, it will be my job to ensure that all of Vera’s assets and property make it to their intended beneficiaries, yourself included.

Speaking outside of a strictly professional capacity, your mother was a dear friend of mine, and while we’ve never met I wanted to say how sorry I am that you lost her, especially so young; I never anticipated I would have to take up these duties so soon. Vera was a remarkable woman and she will be missed terribly.

If you have any questions or concerns that you would prefer to communicate in person, I’m available at our office in Portland at the hours printed below.

Kind Regards,

Julie Carson, Esq.

Brooke set the letter down and drummed her fingertips on the tabletop, staring into space for a good long second. A chance to not just get some much-needed direction on what to do in the wake of her mom’s death, but to answer some long-held questions about her mom’s life to boot?

Well, shit. It seemed like her next stop was sunny Portland. She wondered if Kate wanted an excuse to get out of the house?

Chapter Text

[ ♪ ]

Friday, October 25th 2013 [ Brooke ]

Brooke was smiling, her cares miles behind her. Zooming down State Route 18 with Kate in the passenger seat felt right. It was like they were flying free, just for a bit. They would be fettered by their obligations again when they headed back, but for now, it was as if they didn’t exist at all.

Kate looked lighter, the load she’d been carrying on her shoulders of late lessened. She was drumming her hands idly on her legs in time to the music playing on the local station Brooke had put on the radio.

So wake me up when it’s all over,
When I’m wiser and I’m older…

Brooke couldn’t have put it better herself, really. At least this was one day she didn’t want to just sleep through, notwithstanding her lingering anxieties about her appointment at the offices of Carson & Eagan. She and Kate hadn’t gotten many chances to just hang out alone together since…

Shit, since before that fucking party. There was the day on the beach the other week, but that was it. What a downer thought. She suppressed it, breathed deep, and carefully nudged the car just north of five miles over the limit to let the highway draw that little bit shorter.

They were in Portland by nine, giving them a comfortable cushion of two and a half hours before her appointment. Without much of a preexisting plan, Brooke and Kate had to spend a moment discussing what they wanted to do with the time.

“How about the Portland Art Museum?” Kate suggested, innocently excited.

But Brooke could only blanche at the thought, and despite the hopeful look in Kate’s eyes, she hurried to turn it down. “N-... no, I don’t think… I mean, not today. Sorry.”

She looked away to hide her face from a curious Kate, who recalculated, humming in that way she sometimes did when she wanted to draw out a silence for a second longer. “Okay. Then maybe we could just walk around the Alberta Arts District?”

Brooke nodded, relieved, and took the car over the Fremont Bridge. They spared a momentary look to the east as they passed over the Willamette River, but the cloudy conditions forbade them any glimpse of the distant Mount Hood. Brooke was sure it would have been majestic.

Once the two managed to finagle their way into a parking spot, they finally stepped out into the cool morning air, looking along the tree-lined street they’d decided to park on. At the same time, they glimpsed a street sign which announced that they were standing on Prescott Road.

They both shared a look about that, let out a disbelieving laugh, and then started to walk.

A couple of blocks to the north was Alberta Street, where Brooke got a load of the cute little buildings, the hip and artsy storefronts, and the colorful array of guerrilla stickers slapped on the back of the nearest stop sign. She breathed out an amused noise, then said to Kate, “Max would love this place.”

Kate giggled at the remark. “She’s definitely been here before. Still, it’s a shame she can’t hang out with us right now.”

Brooke considered that, then pulled out her phone to waggle it in her hand. “Well, in the great Caulfield tradition: a selfie before we get underway?”

That won a little grin from Kate, who came up alongside Brooke to get her head into the frame, their shoulders touching. Brooke was no photographer, but she still made sure to aim the shot down the street, getting as much in view as she could before capturing their smiling faces. Once the picture was taken, Brooke texted it to Max and Chloe, nudged Kate, and started moving.

None of their stops was especially long, but they still paused long enough to appreciate the street art as they went, sharing some laughs at the quirky displays made by the local artists. They also dipped into a couple of small galleries along the way with more conventional art that a philistine like Brooke had an easier time understanding. Some window shopping in between stops rounded out this first part of their voyage, though they could only look for the most part. Some of the kitschy crap on display was really expensive.

This somewhat fleeting engagement finally came to an end when Kate’s eyes lit up at the sight of a tea shop. She turned to Brooke with nothing more than an imploring stare, and when Brooke instantly folded with an acquiescent nod, Kate grinned and all but dragged her inside.

“You know, I’m not a big tea drinker,” Brooke warned as they crossed inside, the bell jingling over their heads. The interior was clean and open, with several round tables spaced across a light tan hardwood floor.

“Why’s that?” Kate quizzed. Brooke knew she was laying a rhetorical trap for her, going by that oh-so-innocent smile of hers, but she still fell for it anyway.

“It just has a weird aftertaste. Kind of… earthy? Leafy?”

“You haven’t had good tea,” Kate declared. “Let’s get you something cold and sweet, maybe, that’ll help to ease you in if you’re a soda drinker...”

Which was how Brooke found herself staring at a cup of taro bubble tea, Kate sipping a chai latte across the table from her. She poked the tapioca pearls with her straw apprehensively, before finally bucking up her courage. Come on. Just because you have the same three drinks all the time doesn’t mean you can’t try something new. Do it for Kate.

… Huh, the tea was actually good. Creamy and sweet with just a hint of – oh fuck, something just went in her mouth. She hated it when a bit of ice from a drink got between her teeth, and this was causing the same mental itch. When she bit on it, though, the pearl popped and a second flavor mixed with the tea. Lychee maybe? It was really good, but the rest of the sensory experience snatched away her bravery, and soon she was just timidly sipping the tea, keeping the straw well above the pearls.

Kate smiled sympathetically at her. “Not to your tastes?”

“It tastes great,” Brooke assured her. “I just don’t like having… physical objects coming through a straw, it wigs me out.”

“You liked those milkshakes at the diner just fine? Oh, I guess it’s more like a consistency thing?” When Brooke confirmed that with a nod, Kate gave her a fuller smile. “Noted. You can ask for milk tea without the tapioca next time, I’m sure you’ll enjoy that more. Good on you for being adventurous anyway!”

And if Brooke felt a flush of pride at Kate’s approval, well, she certainly wasn’t going to overanalyze that. There was too much on the agenda today!

With the culinary adventure out of the way, the girls left the tea shop behind to stop by a cute little bookshop where each of them treated themselves to just one new item each, on a budget as they were. Kate picked up a historical novel about the Dust Bowl, and Brooke grabbed the latest Brandon Sanderson book, Steelheart. As they departed, discussion inevitably turned toward their long-forgotten club activities.

“You want to revive your Geek Grrls Book Club?” Kate repeated back to Brooke, her head tilted.

“Informally,” Brooke clarified. “Though seeing as how we were literally the only two members, I guess it’s formal enough. Interested?”

“Absolutely,” Kate said, a little skip entering her step for just a second as she beamed at Brooke. “Starting that book club with you at Blackwell was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Where would I be now if we hadn’t done that?”

Brooke wasn’t sure she wanted to imagine that. She smiled at Kate and tried to put it out of mind, honestly flattered (and a little bit flustered) by the reaction. “In that case, I’m really glad for my stupid little club.”

Kate giggled. “It wasn’t stupid. It was really nice. And if you’re sure I won’t slow down your reading or anything, then I’m happy to continue.”

“Slow down? Kate, you’re way better at analyzing a text than I am. It’s almost scary how good you are at picking apart the themes in books, TV, whatever. You’re indispensable.” Truthfully, it could be a little intimidating at times how smart Kate was when it came to analyzing not just media, but other things in the world around her. It wasn’t often that Brooke actually felt dumber than someone else, but Kate made her feel like the stupidest girl in the world sometimes. In a good way.

She looked at a slightly blushing Kate, smirking. “And totally not just indispensable because if you weren’t there, it wouldn’t be a club, it would just be me geeking out alone.” They shared a small laugh at that, before Brooke continued, “Meeting at home is an option, I guess, or we could just head down to the library. It’s in the same complex as the school I’m trying to apply for.”

“Oh!” Kate exclaimed, shifting onto the topic now that it had come up. “Have you heard anything back yet on that?”

“Nah, I bet I won’t until next week.” Which was wracking her nerves. A rejection would suck, but at least she could stop wondering.

“They’d be silly not to accept you,” Kate said, nodding very seriously. “Blackwell had its problems, but the science curriculum was amazing. You’re definitely up to speed on whatever they’re teaching at this place.”

Kate’s confidence made Brooke feel rather warm and fuzzy. She only answered with a mild shrug, before turning the subject back around on Kate. “I know the CTE school isn’t really your speed, but were you going to enroll at the regular high school, or…?”

She saw a shadow pass over Kate’s eyes. She looked smaller again. “My parents are enrolling me at a private religious school outside of town.”

That brought Brooke up short. She stopped mid step in the middle of the sidewalk. “What?” Her brain caught up and she started to walk again. “Kate, isn’t that exactly the last thing you wanted? What you went to Blackwell to avoid?”

“It’s not up to me this time,” Kate answered, not meeting Brooke’s gaze.

“Of course it is. You’re an adult, and public school is free, they can’t make you go somewhere you don’t want to go.” ‘They’, but Brooke had a notion that it was more one parent’s idea than the other’s. “Isn’t there–...”

“No, Brooke, there isn’t.” Kate sighed wearily. “Look, I know what you’re saying, but it’s only going to be for one semester. And it’s this or…” She refused to spell out the presumed consequences. “I’ll survive.”

“I know you will,” Brooke said honestly. “You’re a survivor. You’re tough. But it’s just…” She struggled for words, before eventually deciding on, “It’s not fair.”

Kate’s expression softened, a trace of a sad smile. “You’re right. It’s not.”

Then her gaze went past Brooke, who turned to see the window of a music store in passing. Kate had stopped to stare. There were some beautiful instruments held on acrylic stands in the display, including a violin with a reddish finish to the wood. Brooke had missed Kate’s violin playing; her friend’s instrument had fallen silent after the party, and now it was gone forever.

She asked her, “Thinking about buying something?”

Kate shrugged, never taking her eyes off the violin. “Instruments are so expensive. But maybe someday.”

Brooke stared at it, too, and a little kernel of a plan started to form in her mind.

It wasn’t too much longer before they had to make their way downtown so Brooke wouldn’t be late for her appointment. After dropping Kate off to hang out at a cafe across the street, Brooke entered a high-rise building and fidgeted nervously in the elevator the whole way up.

It finally stopped with a ding, and she arrived in a narrow hallway. Following a sign on the wall, she soon found the proper door, walking through it and into the lobby of the law offices of Carson & Eagan. It was sterile-looking, sparsely decorated but for a potted monstera in the corner, and filled with rows of chairs, a handful of which were already occupied. In one, a tired-looking paralegal sat going over a binder opened in his lap. A middle-aged couple were on the other end of the room, leaning on each other, seeming lost in thought.

Brooke approached the desk and got the receptionist’s attention, saying, “Um, hi. Brooke Scott? I had an 11:30 appointment.”

The receptionist studied Brooke for a moment before consulting a computer screen and then nodding at her. “Someone will be out to get you in a moment.”

Nodding back, Brooke stepped aside and shrugged off her new gray coat which she’d worn out on the town, putting it up on the coat rack near the reception desk. She had put on that nice white shirt she lucked into finding at the Goodwill for this, along with a pressed pair of slacks. Just like in the dressing room, it felt pretty cool to dress up like this, even if it was very different from her usual style. It also helped her feel a little more professional and therefore a bit less intimidated by the situation.

Just a bit, though.

True to the receptionist’s word, a sharply-dressed aide emerged before Brooke even had a chance to sit and beckoned her to follow. Along their way through the halls of the office, Brooke spotted more paralegals and other employees hard at work, though she didn’t have the time or inclination to stare longer and absorb the sight. It was only moments before a door was opened in front of her, the aide stepping aside to let Brooke in.

Across the desk in the middle of the room, a blonde woman stood to greet her. Brooke saw a flash of surprise on her face, as if Brooke wasn’t what, or who, she expected. Nevertheless, the woman recovered fast, smiling warmly as she extended a hand for a shake. “Hello, Brooke. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Yeah. You too,” she answered, a little shyly as she shook Carson’s hand. As that ritual took place, Brooke took a second to look around. The understated decoration, mostly dark wood, and the shelves full of case books were more or less what she expected. But she was a little surprised to see when focusing on a plaque framed on the wall that it wasn’t a legal award, but for a local marathon a couple of years back. Looking around the room, she could see from a few more running- and biking-related items that Carson was a bit of a fitness freak.

Indeed, despite the professional-looking pantsuit, Brooke could easily picture the forty-something woman in front of her being at home in the outdoors. Even the way she styled her straw-blonde hair was kind of sporty. Brooke supposed she expected a lawyer to be a little more… stuffy? But considering even the vague allusions her mom had made about this lady, perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised.

Brooke took a seat when Carson gestured for it, and once they were both sitting, the lawyer folded her hands on the desk and spoke. She looked a little… nervous? Brooke took a second to place it, but she was privately a little relieved that she wasn’t the only one who was feeling unsure about the meeting. “To be honest, I’m really glad you decided to come in. I know in your position I’d be completely lost at sea.”

“That’s a way of putting it,” Brooke agreed, wringing her own hands in her lap. “The whole world got turned upside down on me. I’m not even sure where I’m expected to start picking up the pieces.”

“Well, I can only really advise you on the legal stuff, but I hope I can help reduce the stress for you a bit.”

A weak, rueful chuckle found its way out of Brooke. “Yeah. It’s too bad I didn’t remember how to reach you last week. The FBI came around asking for a statement from me and I had to have them call some random attorney down to Lincoln City to help me stay out of trouble.”

Carson raised her eyebrows at that, concerned. “Well, I wouldn’t have been of much help there. Our firm specializes almost entirely in estate and property law. But if you’re in that situation again, I am acquainted with some folks I could refer you to. They’d probably do it pro bono, given your situation.”

Pitying little orphan Brooke, huh? That feels pretty bad, but I can’t deny it would work in my favor in that case. Aloud, Brooke just sighed and nodded.

“I shouldn’t ask about the details if it’s an open criminal case, but hopefully you’re not the one the FBI were investigating?”

“Oh. No, me and my friends caught a criminal. That was, like… less than twelve hours before that fucking storm hit.” Blink. “Sorry, I’m staying with a religious family and I haven’t been able to swear in the house in weeks.”

After chuckling quietly at that detail, Carson shook her head wonderingly, then crossed her arms and remarked, “You really are your mother’s daughter…” At Brooke’s questioning look, she clarified, “Not the swearing. Well, yes the swearing, but more so the getting into situations thing. That’s just like Vera in high school.”

“She was tangling with serial killers back then?” Brooke was skeptical, to say the least.

“No, but she was tangling with the Prescotts.” There was a hint of amusement in Carson’s voice.

Huh. Was that the family business now? That gave Brooke pause. “I mean, she did mention that she protested a Prescott plan to chop down a hundred acres of trees once?”

Carson leaned back in her chair, that hint of amusement turning to a laugh. “It was a lot more than just once! Though I’m not surprised she didn’t give you the whole picture. She got a lot more straight-laced with age, and I’m guessing she didn’t want to feel like a bad influence on you.”

Brooke thought there wasn’t much risk of that, given what a shy nerd she’d been for most of her life, but the events of her last week in Arcadia Bay certainly made a strong case for her mom’s decision there. Her curiosity was piqued; this was exactly the infodump she was hoping for when she came here. “So she was some kind of activist?”

“She sure was! Gosh.” The lawyer swept a hand back through her hair, shaking her head in wonder. “So, the context. Back then, in the eighties, Arcadia Bay wasn’t growing anymore, but it hadn’t started to hit that economic slump yet either. This was in the heyday of the environmental movement, and everyone our age was worried about overfishing in the Bay and deforestation. So your mom kicked off this environmental group at Blackwell, and…” Trailing off with a smile warm with fondness for Vera, her eyes far away, Carson concluded, “You know, I didn’t give that much of a crap about saving the whales at the time, but she was there, and well, I was just as prone to stupid decisions as any other teenager…”

Mom sure never mentioned that… Wait, what did Carson mean by that last part?

“I’d already been following her to punk shows for a while, just sort of hoping she’d think I was cool enough for her. It took me a couple of years to really get that she liked me from the start and I didn’t have to try so hard. So, anyway, that’s why when Vera chained herself to a tree in front of one of old man Prescott’s bulldozers, I was chained up right alongside her…”

Their relationship wasn’t like that, right? Mom would have mentioned it. But then again, she never mentioned that she was basically her generation’s Chloe, apparently, just with a cause to fight for…

“The principal was pissed of course, and fought to get the club disbanded for the whole rest of the year. Our least favorite classmate, Sean Prescott, made it his personal mission to give us hell and spread rumors, but we were already outcasts anyway, and we had each other to get through all of it. And, hey, I started to care about the whales for real after a bit. That’s part of why I got into property law; to help shut down forest-clearing ghouls like the Prescotts. Vera was so smug when I admitted all that to her…”

No fucking shot. That look in her eye… Am I reading too much into this?

Carson trailed off, and shot Brooke an embarrassed smile. “Look at me, getting caught on a trip down memory lane. Sorry if I stared a bit when you walked in. You look just like she did back then, and it took me a bit… off-guard.”

Well, that explained that. Brooke had thought there was something forlorn about that expression on the way in. As for the new question bouncing around Brooke’s head, she stowed it somewhere safely in the crevasses of her brain and ignored it for now. “Don’t mention it. It makes sense.”

The lawyer nodded, cleared her throat, and tapped the opened manila folder in front of herself. “Let’s save the rest of that story for another time. As for the will... Getting everything to the beneficiaries takes time, but there aren’t very many named in Vera’s will aside from you.”

“I did wonder about that,” Brooke interrupted. “I mean, I know the rest of the family is kind of distant, but she didn’t even have a cousin she liked or something?”

Carson looked pensive at that. “Ah… No. A big rift opened between Vera and the rest of the family around the time of those stories I mentioned to you, and I guess she never really bridged it, for reasons of her own. She wouldn’t have left them anything. I’d be careful of any sudden attempts to contact you by far-flung uncles and cousins, especially if you haven’t seen them in a long time.”

“Try never seen them in my life,” Brooke said, shaking her head. That explains the letters. Fucking vultures… At least I know I can ignore them now.

Carson smiled and went on. “Since you’re the heir and primary beneficiary, our priority right now is to get you what you’re owed, especially since you were left homeless by the disaster. We think we can get special consideration for your situation, and ideally this will all be wrapped up before the end of the school year.”

Brooke supposed her situation could be worse. At least she had the Marshes looking out for her in the meantime. “I can survive ‘til then. I’ll have to get a job, but… it’s not like I’m the first or last high schooler who had to work at McDonald’s.”

That got a small chuckle from the lawyer. “Yeah… It’s not fair that you have to deal with all of this, obviously, but there are no irregularities with the will or anything. That part is going to go as smoothly for you as it possibly can, you have my promise on that.” Then Carson perked up and reached under her desk. “There was one small bit of property, actually. It was recovered after the storm…”

Brooke’s heart stopped. In her mind’s eye, she saw the devastation of Arcadia Bay again, just like she had almost every night since it happened. She could still smell the air left in the tornado’s wake, the sight of her childhood home scraped to its bare concrete foundation as clear as the desk in front of her. The object Carson grabbed was an envelope, which Brooke stared at.

“I don’t understand. I mean… there’s nothing. There should be nothing. The whole place was swept away.”

Carson looked at the envelope, too, her tone gentle. “That’s right. Still, debris from Arcadia Bay was carried thirty thousand feet in the air. A lot of it was blown by the wind into Washington County, and the state sent some people out to recover what they could. Including that.”

Brooke hesitated no longer, folding in the metal clasp of the envelope and pulling out the item inside. It was a banged-up photo. On the back in slightly faded pen, she read the words: “Vera and Brooke, ‘03 – Space Mountain!!”

With a trembling hand, she turned it over. Although a chunk of one corner had been taken out, and there was some obvious water damage, the picture of them at Disneyland which had once hung in the hallway at the house was impossible to mistake.

It’s still here, Brooke realized as she stared blearily into the smiling faces on the picture, the string of a Buzz Lightyear balloon clutched in her past self’s tiny hand. Just like me.

Brooke leaned back so that when the tears started to fall, they wouldn’t land on the photo and ruin it further. She sniffled, and as Carson pushed a box of tissues across to her, she just about managed to choke out, “Thank you…”

“Of course,” Carson said, taking a tissue for herself. Though it was clear that she was trying to keep her professional composure, it took her a few minutes to pull herself together again, just like Brooke did.

Finally, once the moment passed, the lawyer breathed deep and tore off a slip of paper to write on and pass over to Brooke. “Here. My cell phone number. If you want to hear more about the old days with your mom, or… if you just need someone in your corner, you can reach me. I’m happy to make the time for you.”

Brooke nodded firmly, putting the slip along with the photo into the envelope, which she held close. Now that she had it back, she’d never let it go. “I do want to hear more. And… I’ll keep it in mind.” First taking a shaky breath, she repeated, “Thanks, Mrs. Carson, for everything.”

“I’m not married,” she answered with another somewhat wistful smile. “And call me Julie.”

Chapter Text

Thursday, October 31st 2013 [ Brooke ]

There was no full moon to hang ominously in the sky, nor any howling of wolves to resound across the hills of Lincoln City. But there was a cool breeze blowing, a sunset casting the horizon in festive orange, and two excited preteens in the back seat to prove that it was Halloween just the same.

The younger Marsh sisters had both greeted the holiday with the same enthusiasm, though their distinct differences were on display in their choice of costumes. Lynn was going as Glinda the Good Witch, complete with a wand and a big poofy pink dress which Brooke suspected had found its origins in the theater program at her school. Grace had gone full mad scientist in a lab coat, goggles, and insulated gloves as Dr. Horrible, which Brooke was honestly surprised she even knew about. She guessed Grace had her ways around whatever internet surveillance their mom was up to. By some miracle, they had put aside their usual bickering and were excitedly chattering about candy instead.

As for the eldest two Marshes, they were nowhere in evidence, having stayed in to have dinner while the girls were out trick-or-treating. It seemed that their denomination didn’t have any particular issues with Halloween; Mrs. Marsh still hadn’t looked exceptionally happy about it, but she had at least praised her daughters’ costumes even if she clearly didn’t get what they were supposed to be.

And so it fell to Kate to perform big sister duty, and Brooke… friend of the big sister duty. Houses were sort of spaced out on the northern side of Devils Lake, and the shuttle service they were currently performing for the two girls in the back was more or less required.

Brooke could have opted to stay at the house, of course, but she’d decided against it in the end. I guess my reclusive ways are changing, she reflected almost nostalgically as she steered the car along. A lot of that was because of the girl in the passenger seat: Kate, who was smiling in that beatific way of hers as she nodded along with whatever Lynn was telling her. A not insignificant motivator for Brooke’s presence tonight was the fact that, come January, they would be going to different schools and not seeing nearly as much of each other. She wanted to make the most of every moment with Kate while she still could.

Gee, what a depressing thought. She was actually in a pretty good mood despite that, courtesy of some welcome news which she hadn’t told Kate about just yet. She kept her peace until she brought the car to a stop in front of a small cul-de-sac, where several other kids already appeared to be trick-or-treating.

The girls in the back fidgeted, but still waited obediently as Kate turned to give them a quick talk. “Okay, you know the drill, girls. Stick close together and head straight back once you finish at the last house, alright?”

Although both of the younger girls rolled their eyes, they agreed and then opened the doors to charge outside, laughing. They did at least have the presence of mind to look both ways before continuing across the street, much to Brooke’s relief. She watched Lynn and Grace run off and sighed.

“Hard to believe that was my life just a few years ago,” Brooke observed as she unbuckled. “Everything changes when you’re a teenager. Now you and me are adults in the eyes of the law and expected to just figure all this junk out for ourselves.” She cracked a wry smile so that things didn’t get too heavy. “And what’s worse, we can’t even dress up like idiots and run around asking for candy to make up for it. It’s a racket.”

They were getting out of the car now to stand beside it and keep an eye on the girls from afar. Kate came around to the driver’s side to stand next to Brooke, her shoulder just barely bumping hers, standing with her hands folded primly at her waist like she often did. Kate was still wearing her gray cardigan, though rather than her usual dress shirt, she’d pulled on a wool shirt, and she wore a cozy-looking pair of leggings along with her skirt. Brooke herself was doing just fine in the autumn chill with one of her thicker flannels that she’d picked up, this one red plaid.

Brooke’s joke got a little smile out of Kate, who gave her a curious look. “You know, I’m not sure if I can picture you running around like that. What sort of costumes did you wear trick-or-treating as a kid?”

Brooke crossed her arms and leaned on the car as they talked. “Luke Skywalker once. Darth Vader twice. The last time I went… what, seventh grade? I went as a Dalek.” She sighed, put-upon. “Nobody got it.”

Kate nodded serenely. “That’s more or less what I expected. I wasn’t very creative with my choices, to be honest. I went as an angel four years in a row.”

“Kate, you are an angel,” Brooke rejoined, and was rewarded with a blush from the blonde, who bashfully looked away. Kate always blushed easily, and Brooke would be lying if she said she didn’t get a kick out of provoking it sometimes.

“Anyway,” Kate said, her voice strong and defiant despite the pink still in her cheeks as she looked back, “it is sort of funny to think about you at that age. Were you very different?”

“I don’t think so. I’m still sarcastic. Still socially awkward. I was already obsessed with computers and robots. I was just… smaller.”

There was an endeared slant to Kate’s smile. “I’m sure you were adorable.”

Which meant it was Brooke’s turn to go pink in the cheeks. Wow. I guess two can play at that game after all, huh?

Not giving Brooke a chance to fire back, Kate asked another question. “Do you think we would have been friends if we knew each other back then?”

Brooke blinked at that. Though there was something hopeful in her friend’s eye, she had to tell the truth. “Honestly? I’m not sure. We’ve been in the same school since we were both a year older than Grace, and we didn’t even really try to talk to each other until… basically two months ago.”

Acknowledging that with a slow nod, Kate looked off, tracking her sisters as they bounded away from one house and toward another, their boasts about their candy hauls inaudible at the distance. “Maybe. But… I would have loved to have a friend like you back then. Maybe that would have been good for me.” She paused in thought, then asked, “Has it really only been two months?”

Brooke was smiling wistfully, an expression that turned to thoughtful concentration as she did the mental math. “Less, actually. It was the middle of September.”

“It feels like so much longer!” Kate exclaimed with a weary air, sharing a smile with Brooke. In the face of all the bullshit that had drawn that time out, one almost had to laugh to stay sane. “But… here we are. Still together. In spite of all that.”

“We are,” Brooke agreed with a small trace of wonder. She glanced at Kate and pondered a second. This seemed like a good time to relate her news. “It’s gonna suck being at the CTE high school without you.”

It took Kate’s brain a second to catch up, judging by the double-take she did. “You got in?”

“Yeah, I did!” Brooke couldn’t help the impish grin that spread across her face. A second later Kate’s arms were thrown around her as she was engulfed in a crushing hug.

“Oh my gosh, Brooke, I’m so happy for you!” Kate all but squeaked. She pulled away just enough that she was no longer smushing her face into Brooke, allowing her to feel the full force of Kate’s radiant smile. “They made you wait a whole week…! But, wow… You’re going to do amazing there. I just know it.”

Scratching her cheek self-consciously, Brooke forced herself to look away after a moment. “Yeah, they left me guessing for a bit longer than I expected, but I guess they were just having trouble verifying my records since Blackwell got blown away. They were happy with my grades, but it sounded like they were most motivated by that magazine article.”

“What magazine article?”

“Oh. I guess I never brought that up. I was in a robotics magazine last year for winning a contest, and I guess I made myself look good enough there to impress the superintendent.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t heard you bragging about that already,” Kate teased.

Brooke grinned awkwardly. “Um, I did. Last year. After the second or third time our classmates told me off for acting like an arrogant prick, I just shut up about it.”

That got a little chuckle out of Kate, her expression still pensive. “You really have changed a lot since we met, Brooke. I always thought there was more to you than that – that side of yourself you just described, I mean. And I was right.” A more vulnerable smile appeared, one which Brooke couldn’t quite parse. There was something else behind Kate’s eyes, something she could not identify. “We may not have been friends back then, but… I’m so glad we’re friends now.”

Brooke hesitated to answer, not sure how she could hope to match the sincerity of Kate’s words, much less explain the sudden thudding of her heart, but the moment passed as Kate’s gaze snapped to something across the street. Grace and Lynn had paused on the other side, now making their way back, but were taking a second to apportion their spoils. Brooke wondered why Kate was staring like that until she realized that it wasn’t the girls, but rather a man walking along the sidewalk.

As Brooke watched, the guy passed near Kate’s sisters, but didn’t spare them a glance, just continuing along his way. Turning, she saw tension leaving Kate’s shoulders, a fist unclenching, and Brooke understood. I’d be hyper-vigilant too, if I’d gone through what you did.

She put the glum thought away as Kate waved the girls back over, and the four piled back into the car again. After flashing Kate a quick smile as she buckled up, Brooke started the car and called back to Lynn and Grace, “Get anything good?”

“One of the houses was handing out whole Hershey’s bars,” Grace reported happily.

“All good people of Oz will rejoicify over this amazing bounty of candies,” Lynn added in cheery, upper-crust tones, making Grace roll her eyes and Kate giggle.

“Ready to conquer another street, then?” Brooke asked with a little pump of her fist, to acclamations of excitement from both trick-or-treaters. She chuckled and steered the car along to its next destination.

At the next street, Kate and Brooke had a clear view of all the doors from their parking spot, so they decided to stay situated in the warmth of the car while the girls ran off again. As Brooke watched them go, she heard Kate say next to her, “I’m amazed that you really didn’t have any sisters. You’re so good with those two.”

“I guess I’m a natural?” Brooke suggested with a lopsided smile, leaning her elbows on the top of the steering wheel.

Kate humored that for a moment before her focus drifted and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “What you were saying before, about everything changing when you’re a teenager… Can I admit something to you?” And after Brooke nodded, “I’m absolutely petrified by the idea of either of my sisters going through… anything like I did. Don’t get me wrong – I still think the world is an amazing place. I still think my mom’s wrong to wrap us up in cotton like she has… but I know how dangerous the world is now, too. And all I can think is how everything is going to change for them soon, and I won’t always be there to protect them, and…”

Kate trailed off as Brooke reached over to squeeze her friend’s shoulder. “But you’re here for them now. You’re right, the world’s a fucked-up place. But they have you, and your dad, and they’ll have the friends they make in school and wherever else. They won’t be alone.”

The words brought Kate down from her state of heightened anxiety again; she closed her eyes and nodded. “I know… I know. It’s not the most rational worry.” She took a breath and straightened up in her seat, watching Brooke sadly. “I’m still discovering new scars. New ways that Mr. Jefferson messed with my mind, before and after that night. I don’t know if I’ll ever… ever be the same.”

Brooke let the hand on Kate’s shoulder drop to find her friend’s hand instead. “Well… I’m still not planning on going anywhere, Kate. You’re my best friend. You can lean on me for as long as you need to. Alright?”

That got her a watery smile from Kate. “You say I’m the angel, but you’re the one who keeps looking out for me, Brooke. Maybe that should have been in your costume rotation after all.”

Brooke responded with a flustered laugh and let her hand drop from Kate’s. “Well… What would you say to a toast?”

“A toast with what?” Kate asked, bemused. When Brooke shrugged and gestured to the small cooler on Kate’s side of the car, the blonde said, “Oh,” and opened it up, fishing out a pair of apple juice boxes. They’d brought juice and water in case the girls got thirsty running around, but these would do in a pinch.

After taking hers and popping the straw through the foil on top, Brooke reached over to tap the corner of the box into Kate’s. “To new beginnings. And the end of the longest fucking month of our lives – finally!”

Kate’s smile was wide, her woes seemingly forgotten for now. “To all that and more,” she vowed, then tilted the box back for a sip.

Chapter Text

Saturday, November 16th 2013 [ Brooke ]

Two weeks had passed since Brooke and Kate toasted to the future on Halloween, and Brooke was doing her best to make good on her commitment to that as yet nebulous future however she could. Despite her natural inclination to do so, however, she couldn’t do it all herself, and she’d had a couple of helpers along the way.

As a case in point, she had been keeping up a fairly regular text correspondence with Julie to stay abreast of the whole thing with the will, as well as hearing more interesting stories about her mom in high school and college. True to her word, she had been able to offer some advice about adulting in general aside from the legal business, something almost as valuable to Brooke as the answers to her questions about her mom’s life.

Brooke had still not mustered the courage to pose the one really good question that occurred to her in Julie’s office. She had quite enough on her plate already without having to upend some of her fundamental assumptions about her parents’ relationship. Maybe she would be brave enough to ask at a later date. Like sometime in her late fifties.

For her own part, Julie seemed to have a pretty good amount of background information on Brooke herself. Apparently her mom had talked about Brooke with her lawyer friend plenty, despite barely saying a word about Julie to Brooke in all those years. (Something else which Brooke was not keen to analyze, mostly because it made her feel kind of upset.)

Still, Julie seemed interested in Brooke’s day to day life and the various issues she was contending with, which was nice, if nothing else. Irrespective of the confusing questions Julie’s existence raised, Brooke’s first impression of her had been a positive one. Where she’d twigged Jefferson as evil from almost the moment she laid eyes on him, her first meeting with Julie had told Brooke she was the opposite: someone who cared a lot about people, and for whatever reason about Brooke in particular. Brooke seemed to have good instincts; she might as well try to trust them.

On this particular day, however, Brooke had to seek help from the other sensible adult in her orbit, the one who was actually in arm’s reach at the moment. With a thumb drive held in her hand, she rapped on the doorframe of the home office that sat in the back of the Marsh household. “Hi, Richard. Do you have a minute?”

Kate’s dad leaned away from the computer on his desk and smiled. “Brooke! Good afternoon. What’s going on?”

She waggled the thumb drive. “I’ve put together a basic resume, but uh, I’ve never exactly applied for a job before? I was wondering if you could look it over and make sure I didn’t, you know, miss anything important.”

“Sure thing. Come on over.”

Brooke stepped up to the desk and handed the thumb drive over, then stuffed her hands in her pockets. Her eyes restlessly wandered as Richard got the document pulled up, from the glass paperweight on the desk, incomprehensible swirls of red and blue at its center, to the bookshelf behind them, bearing unfamiliar names like William Lane Craig and Lee Strobel.

She was still boredly taking in details when Richard spoke again. “Looks pretty good… Did you use a template online?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “Do you think they’ll care?”

“Probably not. At your age and with your experience level, I think they’ll just be glad it’s legible and there’s no spelling errors.” He nodded approvingly. “It looks good. I’d say you’re pretty much ready to go.”

“Guess I was second-guessing myself. Is there a point where every single part of this process stops being nerve-wracking?”

His expression was sympathetic. “Just the day you finally leave the workforce, pretty much. But despite that, it really isn’t as scary as it seems to be at first glance. You’ll do fine out there.”

“Well, thanks,” Brooke said, smiling crookedly. “Can I use your printer? I think I’ll want, like, ten copies for now.”

“Let me queue that up for you.” As he did that, Richard changed topics. “By the by, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry our home hasn’t been as welcoming for you as it could have been, Brooke.”

This caught her off-guard, and she blinked at him quizzically. “What do you mean? You’ve been awesome, I don’t think many people would have volunteered to take in an orphan out of the blue.”

Richard gave a smile that carried tinges of regret. “I’m glad you think so, but it’s been hard to miss you trying to spend as much time out of the house as you can. I’m guessing Carolann is part of the reason?”

Oh dear. Brooke did her best to make her response a measured one. “I get the sense that she’s not the biggest fan of me.”

That prompted a sigh and a little incline of Richard’s head, not quite a nod. “My wife is… very set in her ways. And not terribly trusting of strangers, especially since Kate went off to Blackwell. I’m certain that, in the fullness of time, she’ll see what our daughters and I already have and realize that you’re nothing like those people behind that video.”

Aren’t I? I basically told one of them that I wished she was dead. Wonder what Jesus would say about that? Brooke did not share Richard’s optimism about her chances with winning over Mrs. Marsh either, but she was still abashed by his confidence in her. She rubbed the back of her head as she gazed at the printer, slowly scrawling out one sheet after another. “Hopefully she will.”

“Speaking of the video,” he said after a moment, his eyes going elsewhere, a small frown tugging at his face. “One of our parishioners mentioned that some people in one of her Facebook groups were still talking about it. Do you know if it’s still out there?”

Brooke hesitated a moment, then let out a small, frustrated breath. “So… I hacked the webpage it was originally on less than a day after it went up and deleted the video. But even in that narrow timeframe, it’s possible someone could have ripped it and uploaded it somewhere else.”

“Isn’t hacking illegal?” He saw Brooke merely shrug and smile in response and he chuckled weakly. “For once, I don’t think I care. Good on you. Do you plan to keep an eye out for these re-uploads?”

“I’d love to. It’s just kind of tricky right now.” Brooke crossed her arms, thinking. “You can barely do anything on a smartphone, and I’m not going to use the library computers for anything that could get me in trouble. A new PC is going to be one of the first things I get once my money situation is sorted out.”

Richard seemed to be mulling over that last detail, nodding slowly, before he asked, “Tell me honestly, Brooke – even if you do take the reuploads down, will it ever go away?”

Brooke winced. “... Hard to say. It’s like a game of whack-a-mole at the end of the day. It already had a chance to spread, so who knows where it’s hiding now?” Lurking around every corner like a monster, more like. Her expression darkened. “I hate it, but the honest truth is that Kate might be dealing with that stupid video for a long time. The internet is forever, after all.”

His shoulders sagged a little, his hand rising to cup his chin and partly hide his mouth for a few moments as he thought. The printer was silent. “... Thank you for being straightforward with me, Brooke. This will be challenging for all of us, but I intend to keep fighting for my daughter, just like you are. One day this will all feel like a bad dream.”

That was a hope they shared in common, then. Brooke gathered up the resume copies from the printer tray. As she did, she heard Richard say, “I thank God every day that Katie has you, Brooke. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

A little emotional, Brooke stared a second, then nodded and waved. “Thanks. I’m glad she has you, too.” With that for a farewell, she scurried out to recharge her social stamina meter. She still had a lot to do that day.

The autumn chill which had started to become evident by Halloween was now starting to truly set in. Brooke pulled her gray coat close, the resume copies tucked safely inside to hide them from the breeze that was rolling over the town, blowing her ponytail in the process.

Like a number of the coastal communities in Oregon, the main street in Lincoln City wasn’t actually a local road. Instead, US 101 ran straight through the heart of town, which meant that traffic didn’t stop to go around the city, even if they did obey the posted speed limit and slowed down. Walking beside it as southbound trucks whizzed past was a little nerve wracking, but it was still her best route as she went north through town on her way back.

So far she had cast her net rather wide. Among the businesses she had stopped by to offer her resume were a sit-down restaurant near the beachfront, three fast food places, the same Goodwill she had visited the other week, and a computer store. It was obvious which one she’d rather land at, but she doubted that she’d actually be that lucky. There were still a few more spots she wanted to hit up where she could leave the remaining four resumes.

It was a bit of a walk, though, and as she went her thoughts raced around the tangled landscape of her mind. They settled, by and large, upon a conversation she’d had with Kate a couple of days earlier but had been trying (failing) to ignore.

Kate had brought it up in her usual circuitous way, of course, not getting straight to the point. The subject came up in a way that implied happenstance, an accidental slip of the tongue.

“... Max’s parents live in a suburb, which I guess is pretty affordable, at least compared with some of the really swanky areas downtown. Victoria said some of them–...”

“Wait, Victoria? You’ve been talking with Victoria?” Brooke had been so surprised that she’d dropped her phone on the carpet.

Kate had just hummed, head tilted back, her pen tapping on her chin like she hadn’t just introduced a nuke to the conversation. “Oh, right, I guess I forgot to mention it.” Liar. “I’ve been keeping up with her over the last few weeks.”

“And that’s… fine?”

“Oh yes,” she’d said, nodding placidly. “She just seemed like she needed someone to talk to.”

That was the second unsubtle remark.

“Have you talked to anybody aside from Chloe and Max yet?”

Brooke had winced at that, bending to pick up her phone. “I don’t think they’d want to talk to me.”

“You might be surprised,” Kate had answered with a gentle smile.

That was the third unsubtle remark, and ding ding ding! That’s the one that finally surmounted Brooke’s defenses (and social obliviousness) and lodged in her brain, not easily departing.

Brooke liked to think she was getting wiser to Kate’s tricks, but either way, she had been mulling this over for the last day and a half, feeling increasingly sullen and guilty. It’s not like she’d forgotten about what a heinous bitch she’d been to Victoria, Taylor, Dana and the others the day of the storm. Far from it; in her darker moments (and there were plenty of those), the memory just confirmed her feelings that she should never be considered a good person, much less a hero. It made it easy to feel like that monster sitting in her pilot seat in the hours after the storm had never left.

She supposed that womaning up and finally taking Kate’s bait was a decent enough step away from that possibility. Was she brave enough to take it?

… Fuck it. She pulled out her phone as she walked, and messaged Kate:

Brooke: hey, do you have victoria’s number handy?

Kate messaged back a minute later with nothing more than the phone number and a smiley face emoticon. Brooke guessed that her friend was rather pleased with herself. Don’t start feeling pleased until I actually manage to defuse this bomb, Kate. I might just make things worse somehow.

Brooke: hey victoria. brooke here.

Brooke: i heard kate’s been keeping in touch with you and figured i would   i should stop being so chickenshit   you might want to

She backspaced and erased one aborted message after another, before finally settling on:

Brooke: i wanted to apologize for being a heinous bitch. let me know if you’re willing to hear it.

Yeah. That would probably do the trick. In the end, Brooke didn’t have very long to wait, which came as something of a surprise. Her phone buzzed about thirty seconds later.

Victoria: Well I admit, I didn’t expect to ever hear from you again. I hear you’ve been busy. How’s life? 

Brooke: can we just get straight to the genuflecting part so i can manage not to jitter my way into traffic? i’m trying to walk straight here.

Victoria: Wait, how are you typing that fast while walking?

Victoria: Whatever. Proceed.

Brooke: i am genuinely so fucking sorry about that shit i said after the storm.

Brooke: not like there’s a right time to say something like that, but especially when you were all grieving and traumatized too.

Brooke: i was an asshole.

A somewhat uncomfortable moment of silence passed, and Brooke scanned the street while she waited. Although it was a weekend, traffic was picking up as rush hour neared, and there were a decent number of people coming and going on the sidewalks. She stopped paying them any mind when another text came.

Victoria: Sorry, Taylor’s here. I called her over to have a look.

Victoria: She says apology accepted. I assume you were going to text everyone else too eventually, so consider that bit of time saved.

Brooke: uh, hi taylor.

Brooke: wasn’t expecting that.

Victoria: My parents’ house is big enough for the both of us. She and her mom are staying while they get their bearings.

Victoria: Right, stop aiming yourself toward that semi truck grill and come back to the light, Scott. I won’t keep you in suspense.

Victoria: I forgive you.

Brooke: okay i sort of expected you to milk this more.

Victoria: After experiencing the Kate Marsh brand of forgiveness firsthand? I’m not that much of a bitch.

Victoria: Besides, my heart wouldn’t really be in it anyway.

Victoria: After making up rumors about you and as good as suicide baiting your friend, I don’t think I have a leg to stand on.

Victoria: I kind of had that coming.

Brooke’s lip twisted uncomfortably. The sounds of people chattering around her blended into a nothing mush, just another background noise to ignore.

Brooke: i don’t think you did.

Brooke: but as long as that’s the last of the beef between us, i guess i’m happy.

Victoria: Très bien. I was wondering about how you were doing the other day, actually. Max said something about you getting into a nice school.

Brooke: you and max have been in contact? she didn’t mention that.

Victoria: Wow, Maxine avoiding something? Shocker.

Brooke snorted at that despite herself. A man walking past gave her a weird look. She ignored him, instead sparing a momentary glance further ahead along the sidewalk. There was a small group of five teens about her age, walking the opposite way at a slow and ambling pace. They were laughing and didn’t pay her an ounce of attention. She ignored them too, electing to look back at her phone.

Victoria: But yes. You know we’re both living in Seattle now, right?

Brooke: makes sense. and being the power of friendship warrior she is, i guess it’s not surprising she’d be reaching out.

Victoria: She makes for tolerable company. Also, she has nothing on your girlfriend, who seems to be dead set on becoming the first living saint in history.

Victoria: Your next line is “not my girlfriend”.

Brooke: not my

Brooke: oh fuck off, did you just joseph joestar me??

Victoria: I don’t know what that means.

The audacity of this bitch. Brooke slowed to a stop to allow herself a moment to think of a cutting retort, but found her mind skipping a track when her eyes raised from the screen.

There was something not altogether right about the Lincoln City she saw before her. Looking straight on, all was normal, if perhaps a little darker, like the sun had decided to sink below the horizon early. Cars whizzed past, people came and went, and that group of five teens were still walking together.

But as she turned her head and gazed off into the distance, whether to her left, her right, or even behind her, everything in view was concealed behind a dense and rolling fog. Its familiarity made a cold unease settle on her bones. Where had she seen that fog before?

No, that’s right… The last time she saw it, she had wings. That nightmare I had the day before the storm… What the fuck is going on here?

Her phone buzzed in her hand. As if blithely unaware of how the world was going topsy-turvy at the moment, Victoria was still texting.

Victoria: In any case, it’s good the storm didn’t split you up. Kate’s a truly remarkable person.

Victoria: I know that realistically speaking I don’t deserve her giving me the time of day, but here we are.

Victoria: Hey, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll snatch her up.

Brooke wasn’t paying these messages the least bit of mind beyond that cursory glance. She was petrified in fear and uncertainty. As the oncoming group was the only thing in proper focus, it’s there that her attention remained.

At the front of the group, two boys, one a Black kid with a middling build, glasses and a red hoodie, the other ginger, tall and reedy and clad in a black polo, were having an animated discussion that she couldn’t quite make out. She furrowed her brow and stared, wondering what it was about this scene that demanded her focus in such a literal fashion, so deep in concentration that she almost missed what happened next.

Before her eyes, the tall redhead was bumped in the back by his friend in the hoodie. His footing made unsteady, he tried to stop, but just took an involuntary step sideways out into the road instead. He turned to give a scolding look, one which died on his face as a shape roared out of the fog. A truck which, it seemed, did not care much for those speed limit signs after all.

A heavy thud and a chorus of screams rattled Brooke to her core, but as she blinked, she found that the fog had receded. The world was as it should be again. When she gazed down the sidewalk, her eyes found that redheaded kid, still very much alive and walking.

As she tried to understand what had just occurred, her phone buzzed, and a familiar series of texts rolled in, one after the other.

Victoria: In any case, it’s good the storm didn’t split you up. Kate’s a truly remarkable person.

Victoria: I know that realistically speaking I don’t deserve her giving me the time of day, but here we are.

Victoria: Hey, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll snatch her up.

Oh, fuck. Is this actually happening? Fumbling, hurrying to pocket her phone, Brooke decided to do the only thing that made sense: she charged ahead.

As she shouldered past a few people and came almost within arm’s reach of the group of teens, she saw the one boy lightly push the other, who began to stumble. Just as he took that fateful step into the street, his arms starting to wheel, Brooke lunged, her outstretched hand catching the collar of his polo shirt. With a pull, she just about managed to catch the boy and haul him a foot or two back. He seemed a little indignant, sputtering and glaring at her.

“Whoa, what–”

A mack truck roared through the space where he would have been, close enough that its speed sent a blast of wind through the stunned group of pedestrians.

Brooke’s coat flew open for just a second, the wind catching the papers stuffed haphazardly in the inside pocket. Caught in the breeze, they went up and away. The redheaded boy had his footing back on the sidewalk now; she let go.

“Aw, damn,” Brooke mumbled as she watched the papers fly off into the wild blue yonder. It took her a few seconds to actually turn and look at the guy and his friends. To a one, they were gaping at her with undisguised awe. Slightly mortified, Brooke realized that she had managed to make herself the center of attention again. “Uh… Hi?”

The redheaded boy looked like he was trying to make up his mind on whether she was real or not. “Did… Did you just save my life?”

Brooke opened and closed her mouth, searching the faces of the other four teens standing there. Eventually she blurted out: “N… nope. That was someone else. Bye.”

Without so much as another word, she stepped around them and speed walked onward, heading for the nearest bus stop. What kind of answer was that, Scott? ‘That was someone else’? Are you actually stupid? No, better question: what the HELL just happened?

Almost as an afterthought as she arrived at the bus stop, Brooke retrieved her phone from her pocket.

Victoria: Sorry. Bad joke.

Victoria: Hello?

Victoria: Hey, I was joking about the truck too, don’t wander into traffic for real.

Brooke: sorry gtg.

Brooke: ttyl.

When the bus did finally arrive, Brooke let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in. Back to the Marsh household. Back to the tension, the disapproving hostess, and all the rest of it.

At least there things made some sort of sense.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, December 25th 2013 [ Kate ]

The Christmas season snuck up on Kate, which was certainly new – and, truth be told, a bit disconcerting. After all, she used to be a bigger fan of the holiday than anybody she knew. It was she who would lead the charge in decorating the house every year; she who would cajole her sisters into caroling; she who would volunteer to help her mom bake cookies and wrap gifts.

This year she’d been hard-pressed to do any of that. Every day was just a little too repetitious, every task over the last couple of months just a little too hard. Preparing for the holidays had felt like another chore, not the magical thing it had been in years past.

She had just been a ghost during the previous night’s Christmas service at church – Ghost of Christmas Past, she thought dryly – standing and sitting when required, mouthing along to hymns, but not really there. The smiles of her fellow churchgoers, people she’d known her entire life, by and large were withdrawn from her; with them went the warmth that these services used to make her feel amid the growing winter chill. It was gone, along with the tinsel-glitter days and cinnamon-scented nights of Christmases long past.

But there were reminders that, outside of her sad little bubble, some form of holiday cheer lived on. Her phone had been blowing up all morning with texts from far-flung friends, some with photos of their celebrations with loved ones.

Max: Merry Christmas Kate!!!

Max: Thinking of you on this holiday and hoping that you’re having as good of a day as you deserve. xomaxo

Chloe: happy jesus bday cupkate

Chloe: u r awesome just fyi! (max thinks so too)

Chloe: ok she probably told you that already shes txting up a storm over there

Chloe: send a pic of ur sweet loot later!!!

Dana: HAPPY XMAS KATIE!!

Dana: Hope you have an awesome one!

Dana: Think you can ambush Brooke w/ a sprig of mistletoe or no? Is she too observant for that?

Dana: Kidding.

Dana: Or am I. o_o

Victoria: Merry Christmas, Kate. Wishing the best for you and your family.

As Kate sat in bed, waiting for her dad to get her sisters up and ready (one thing that had not changed over the years), she allowed herself a small smile at the messages rolling in. Things may have been imperfect, but the knowledge that her friends were thinking of her did a fair bit to make her spirits bright.

(Her response to Dana was a bland one, all “you’re such a great friend”, “you too”, as good as a confession all things considered. It wasn’t like she could counter the teasing; the idea of doing just what Dana suggested had occurred to her several times that month, bringing fresh self-consciousness and shame each time.)

Turning her attention away from her phone, Kate craned her neck to listen out in the hall. There were signs of life, bustling, chatter, sisters arguing – all a sign to get in gear herself. She stood and opened her door just in time to almost bump into her dad. He blinked at her and chuckled before enveloping her in a very festive hug – he was in a sweater with some prancing reindeer on it rather than his usual suits or tweed. She returned it with a little giggle. “Merry Christmas, Pop.”

“You too, pumpkin. You can head on downstairs. Your mother and Brooke are waiting.”

Ah. That sounded like a situation in need of intervention. She nodded gratefully and went on, brushing past a running and shouting Lynn on her way. Following the smell of coffee and pancakes, she soon found her mom and Brooke in the kitchen. Brooke was sipping a mug at the table while Mom worked at the stove, studiously ignoring their guest. Mom flashed Kate a thin smile, which she returned, before stepping up to lean down and greet Brooke with a quick hug.

“Merry Christmas, Brooke.”

“Hey, you,” Brooke responded with a tiny grin, leaning into the embrace. “What’s going on up there?”

“Pop’s just wrangling Grace and Lynn,” she answered, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “They should be down in a couple minutes.”

“No Aunt May today?” Brooke asked, mock-innocent, raising her mug back to her lips.

Kate shook her head. “She’s visiting her husband’s family in Idaho for the holidays this year.” What a relief. Her Thanksgiving visit had been quite enough for Kate and Brooke both. “Just the six of us.”

After she said this, the sound of stampeding feet coming down the stairs heralded the arrival of her sisters, followed by Pop with a bemused look on his face. “Santa came!” Lynn declared happily, peeking past the kitchen at the tree in the living room.

“Hold your horses, sweetie, your mom’s made us a nice breakfast that we’re not going to let get cold.” Pop marshaled a pouting Lynn to the kitchen table, where soon everybody sat together and enjoyed a hearty holiday meal.

As they ate, Kate stole occasional glances at Brooke, finding her expression calm and collected. Almost satisfied, even. It was good to confirm that she wasn’t dwelling on spending the holiday away from home for the first time, but Kate was more curious about the secretive mood Brooke had been in lately. She suspected that her friend had been shopping for presents, but if she had, Kate hadn’t seen any hints of what they might be.

Was it something aside from the holiday and her new job that had been keeping Brooke distracted for the past few weeks? Kate had to wonder.

As soon as Lynn’s plate was cleared, she hurried over to the tree to squee in excitement and start trying to identify which gifts in the heap underneath it belonged to her. Everyone else could only trail behind, settling into the Marsh family living room in a rough semi-circle. In a family tradition, they’d take turns opening presents, going from youngest to oldest. Of course, there was a new person to factor into the rotation this time, so Kate had to ask:

“When’s your birthday, Brooke?”

“July 16th. Uh, 1995, of course.”

“Oh, gosh. Okay. Mine’s September 12th. You’re actually a couple months older than me… I didn’t expect that for some reason!”

Brooke laughed awkwardly. “Right?”

With that sorted out, Lynn opened her first present, a guide to the plays of Shakespeare. Grace got a chart of both Northern and Southern Hemisphere stars, which she seemed pleased with. Kate unwrapped her own first gift to find a new set of charcoal pencils and sketchbooks from her parents.

Brooke’s came in a somewhat oblong form. She boggled at the rather sizable and heavy item in uneven wrapping at first, before starting to open it up. When she recognized the item as a laptop bag, she sucked in a breath and looked inside. A second later, almost reverentially, she pulled free from it a laptop computer, and looked wide-eyed at Kate’s parents.

“Wow. This is… nice. Is this okay? You guys have already done a lot for me. You didn’t need to get me something expensive.”

Pop smiled reassuringly. “It’s refurbished, so it didn’t set us back much at all, don’t worry. We just thought you could use a computer of your own with school coming up, so you won’t have to head down to the library or borrow Kate’s old laptop.”

Kate registered what appeared to be a knowing look between her dad and Brooke after that. Had they discussed this already? Brooke finally relented, smiling back warmly. “Thank you so much.”

After another quick round of gifts, something else found its way into Brooke’s hands, and Kate perked up, excitement mingling with anxiety. Her friend showed her a quick smile when she read who the gift was from, and Kate took the opportunity to explain herself a little before Brooke opened it.

“I kind of struggled thinking of what to get you, so… I just decided to make something myself. I hope you like it…”

“Kate, if you made it, I’ll love it. Promise.”

The certainty shining through Brooke’s eyes made Kate’s heart melt a little bit. She did wish Brooke wouldn’t speak too soon, though. While she poured her heart and soul into the piece, and knew on some objective level that it was probably technically competent, she wouldn’t be convinced it was good until its intended recipient said so.

And so Brooke started to unwrap it. She probably couldn’t have missed that it was a canvas from the shape, but she still wore that familiar (cute) look of concentration, trying to solve the puzzle of what it meant as more colors and shapes became unveiled, bit-by-bit.

Once Brooke had, she stared at it silently, and though it wasn’t turned toward Kate, she could picture the painting she had labored over, and she imagined which parts Brooke was taking in. Yellowish clouds in a blue sky. A lonely drone dancing among them. Two girls silhouetted in the foreground as they looked on.

Slowly, Brooke began to smile as she recognized the scene, and Kate relaxed. “It’s gorgeous,” Brooke announced, before turning the painting to let everyone else see. The ensuing round of oohs and aahs made Kate flush with pride and not a little relief. “I bet when you’re famous one day, it’ll make for a great conversation piece.”

“Oh stop,” Kate giggled. She could consider herself convinced of the work’s value, finally. Brooke’s smile was all the confirmation she needed.

Next, Kate’s mom received a somewhat surprising gift from Brooke in the form of a pair of nice statuettes seemingly meant for a windowsill, both shaped like angels. Mom had been looking a little sour ever since the laptop was unwrapped, and she didn’t thaw much now, either. She thanked Brooke rather primly, but without any real warmth. Glancing furtively at her friend, Kate saw her expression fall in disappointment.

She hid a sigh at the sight. I guess she hasn’t figured it out yet. When Mom comes up with an opinion about something, she never changes her mind. She let the mote of bitterness linger in her throat for a moment before she forced herself to ignore it, putting on a smile she didn’t feel. The holiday demanded a certain amount of cheer, after all.

As if summoned forth by Kate’s act of self-deception, the mood did actually turn for the lighter again as the order of operations came back around to her sisters. She rested her chin in her hand, watching with quiet satisfaction as they opened their gifts from Brooke. Lynn looked positively giddy at the My Little Pony toy set she’d been coveting for a while, and Grace was smiling as brightly as Kate had ever seen her as she looked over the Mohs hardness kit she’d just unwrapped. Their thanks for Brooke were pretty exuberant, perhaps because they hadn’t necessarily expected anything. At least there were some hearts and minds Brooke wasn’t having any trouble winning over!

Somehow, after seeing this, Kate was still caught a little flat-footed by having a present passed her way. It was bigger than she’d expected whatever Brooke got her to be. She searched her friend’s face for any hints, but just found Brooke looking faintly smug in the same way she did when she thought she’d gotten one over on somebody. Kate narrowed her eyes playfully, then started to unwrap it.

Scraps of snowman-print paper fell away, and Kate found herself staring at what could only be a violin case. She looked at Brooke again, a little stumped, as if asking for an alternative explanation. Brooke just gestured. “Have a look.”

Undoing the clasps of the case, Kate gasped. She recognized the cherry-red finish of the violin’s wood instantly. It was the same one she’d stared at in that shop window in Portland. She noticed. She remembered.

Lord help me, mistletoe or not, I’d kiss this girl in front of God and everybody else if I could.

Kate knew better, of course. But nothing could restrain her from leaning forward to capture Brooke in a positively bone-crushing hug, tears pricking at her eyes. “Thank you!”

Kate was pretty sure she heard Lynn saying “Awww” as Brooke patted her back. She didn’t need to look to know her mom was probably less enamored with the scene, but she didn’t care. A little bit of that holiday magic was back, and she was going to hold onto it – with both arms, if necessary.

In the almost three months since she had played a violin, Kate was worried that she would have lost her ear for tune. It was a relief to find herself right at home as she drew her nimble fingers across each string, adjusting the pegs to get the violin sounding as it should.

She had retired to her room once the cleaning up was done downstairs, bringing Brooke along with her so they could both see how this new gift would perform. Currently, Brooke was resting on the other end of Kate’s bed from where Kate herself was sitting; her chin was in her hands and she was watching with interest.

Kate’s eyes flitted her way, shy, and she broke the silence with an innocent remark. “Violins are pretty expensive.”

“Yyyup,” Brooke drawled in agreement, idly kicking her feet behind her.

The silence returned momentarily, punctuated by a flat E here, a sharp A there.

“More expensive than I’d think that store you’re working at is paying you for,” Kate tried again, looking at Brooke sideways.

Brooke’s head tilted slightly. Even though Kate wasn’t looking straight at her, she still seemed to be avoiding her gaze. “Yeah. I’ll be making payments on it for a while.”

Kate stopped short of the next plucked note, sighed, and looked directly at the other girl. “Brooke, you really didn’t have to–”

“I wanted to,” Brooke interrupted, pushing a bit more of her weight onto her elbows and dropping her hands so she could look at Kate straight-on. “In fact, I was dead set on it the moment I saw you sighing at it in the store window. Because–...” For all her brainpower, Brooke still seemed to struggle mightily for an adequate way of continuing that. “Because you deserve things that make you happy.”

You make me happy, Kate wanted to say, but didn’t. Brooke seemed really earnest in what she said, and it left her feeling deeply moved. “Still, I hate to set you back like that…”

“It’s done,” Brooke declared, slapping her hand lightly on the sheet. She shot Kate a quick grin; it had something of a victorious edge to it. “You’re just gonna have to enjoy your new violin and not worry about me.”

Bemused, Kate puffed out another small breath and relented, smiling back. She picked up the bow to rosin it before she played. “... Well, that being the case, I think I owe you a performance. What sort of music do you like? I don’t think you’ve ever said.”

“Some pop and rock, but mostly electronic. Dubstep, drum and bass. I’m a massive Pendulum fan.”

“I think we might have different tastes,” Kate admitted with a laugh. “I may just play something classical for you. Is that fine?”

“I like listening to you play, bottom line,” Brooke said determinedly. “So play whatever you like. Wow me, maestro.”

Kate saw Brooke’s lip uptick a bit, sly, when Kate’s cheeks colored at that. Determined not to let her have the last word this time, Kate remarked, “I don’t know why you had a reputation for being grumpy back at school. You’re more sweet than salty.”

That worked; Brooke looked away, rubbing the back of her neck with an abashed chuckle. It was the shot of confidence Kate needed before trying a song she hadn’t played in what felt like ages. She readied her bow, set her chin on the rest, and began the first warbling notes of Vivaldi’s Winter.

Kate had thrown herself in at the deep end with this one. It was a fast piece; a demanding piece. Just as well she had memorized it for a recital years ago, since she didn’t have the sheet music handy. As it was, she had to play it slower than usual, more moderato than allegro.

She closed her eyes as she played, the vibrant and bold notes of the song cold and clear like a winter’s day. She pictured a snowstorm that had swept through the state when she was little, clumps of ice weighing down the branches of Douglas firs like stones. How young was she? The snow on the ground had been knee-high.

As always when it came to art, Kate was her own worst critic, and she only just managed not to wince when she missed a couple of difficult notes. But once she drew out the end of the first movement and opened her eyes, she saw, with some relief, that she had managed to impress Brooke just the same.

“It’s like you never stopped,” Brooke remarked, a little breathless. “What’s that song called?”

“Winter, from Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.”

“Ah. Fitting.” Brooke looked energized after the quick-paced piece, and now watched curiously as Kate adjusted the pegs again. “Do you have to do that between every song?”

Kate shook her head. “Not usually. The pegs on a new instrument can just be a little finicky. I’ll order some wax to help them stay situated later.”

As Kate worked on that, a companionable silence drew onward. Brooke stopped watching to stare at the wall for a minute. When she spoke up again, it was on a different tack entirely.

“Kate… I can trust you. Right?”

Freezing in her work, Kate blinked once and looked over. “With anything,” she said after a moment, and meant it.

Brooke hummed, considering. “And even if it was something about me that was sort of… unexpected? That might freak you out?”

There was a chance her brain was short-circuiting, Kate thought. There was no way Brooke was talking about what she thought she was. Was there? Cut the wishful thinking! She’s waiting for an answer! “There’s nothing you could tell me that would change how I feel about you, Brooke. Don’t worry.” She masked her nervousness with a comforting smile, and Brooke tried the same.

“Okay. Good to know.” After a beat of silence, “Uh, you can play the next tune now.”

Taking that to mean that Brooke needed some time to work up the courage for whatever was on her mind, Kate nodded and lifted her bow again. She took just a second to pick out one of her favorite pieces. It was more fitting for the October season, perhaps, but there was no expiration date on timeless music. Besides, she had always had a slight fancy for the macabre.

She played the first creaking chords of Danse macabre, the sound of a crypt’s rusty hinges swinging open, and launched into the dark fantasy of the piece with more confidence than her last attempt. This one had more of an emphasis on the emotional timbre of the notes, typical of the Romantic era rather than the last song’s Baroque-era quick, precise notation. This was a style with which she had always found herself at home; she put a lot of emotion into her music as it was, and this made her feel like she could make her violin sing.

As the haunting threes rang out, waltz-like, she pictured a procession of skeletons dancing chest-to-chest along gray moss and unsettled grave dirt, which, come to think of it, might make for a good visual piece at some point. Pencils or paint? Maybe something monochrome in charcoal would be fitting.

Just as she wound down into the last notes of the song, allowing herself to breathe in again, Kate heard Brooke say:

“I think I might have superpowers.”

Kate’s hand slipped and the bow fell down the strings in a sour note to punctuate her surprise. She wasn’t sure she heard that right, so she propped the screw of the bow on her thigh and looked at Brooke with an owlish blink. “Come again?”

Brooke had a bit of the sheets balled up in her hand and was twiddling her thumbs in the tangled cloth. She looked distinctly uncomfortable, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes shifty. “Well, a superpower. I think it’s just… one thing.”

Kate blinked twice more, considered, then gently set her violin and bow down on the pillow beside her. What did one say to something like that? Was this a joke? No, Brooke’s anxiety was genuine; she could see that much.  “... Could you explain what you mean?”

Brooke wavered, then groaned and dropped her head to hide her face against the bed. Kate didn’t imagine it was comfortable to do that while wearing glasses. “Never mind,” Brooke groaned miserably. “Forget I said anything. I sound fucking crazy…”

Kate reached out and set her hand on her friend’s shoulder, hoping to bring her back to reality with a light squeeze. “Hey, this is obviously bothering you. Come on. I said you could talk to me…”

After a muffled grunt, Brooke lifted her head, adjusting her glasses and watching Kate in a manner that reminded her a bit of a cornered animal. “You’re not going to call me crazy?”

“No.”

Then, fishier: “You won’t try to perform an exorcism on me or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Brooke.”

That seemed to be enough assurance for Brooke, who nodded, slowly dragged herself up to sit cross-legged, and fixed Kate with an uncertain stare. Behind it there was still something intense; it made her shiver a bit.

“I think I’ve developed some kind of ability to see the future. Sometimes it’s just flashes. Sometimes… I believe it happens, but I barely even notice it’s there. But sometimes – for really big stuff – it’s full-on visions.”

Kate was skeptical – who wouldn’t be? – but she was listening intently, just as she’d promised. She tilted her head, worried her lip a bit, and thought of a question to ask. “Well… Do you have any examples?”

Brooke’s pensive, almost haunted expression was a bit worrisome. Still, she remained more or less steady as she replied, “Several, yeah. Let’s… I’ll just pick someplace to start. This happened a few weeks ago, while I was walking down the street…”

Kate was sitting up more or less straight when the story began, holding her posture carefully, but as it unfolded she found herself leaning a little more toward Brooke, eventually putting her arm around her shaken friend’s shoulder. She’d be taking this even worse than Brooke was if it was her, she thought. Seeing someone get hit by a truck would shake anybody, even if it was just in a vision.

“Is that why you’ve been so spacey for the last few weeks?” Kate murmured, wondering.

Brooke nodded, her posture finally seeming to relax a little at Kate’s touch. “I was trying to make sense of some things. Square it with some stuff that had already been going on around me…”

“What stuff?”

That brought a reticent look to Brooke’s eye. “Um… Did… Did you ever see an eagle hanging around campus? A big one. Golden-brown feathers.”

Kate didn’t understand the connection. But she did think on it, recalling a dim memory. “Only once. When I was–... on the roof. It came sailing up from over the edge as I was coming out of the door up there. It startled the heck out of me, but when I looked again, I couldn’t see it anymore.”

Brooke nodded slowly, looking thoughtful, almost grim. “The first time I saw it was just minutes after we met, that day on the lawn.” A sentence laden with meaning all on its own, but Brooke pressed on. “It kept showing up, though. Usually just staring at me through the window. But it would try to… help me, sometimes.”

Realization flashed through Kate’s mind. “That one day back in September with the squirrels. Was that one of those times?”

Brooke nodded again. “That was the day I met Chloe, too. Well, re-met her. She could actually see the bird, but… I know Stella couldn’t, and nobody else ever seemed to notice it, even though it was huge. Like it only decided to show itself to certain people.”

Kate was starting to nod along with this; she already believed in the supernatural, in a sense (for all that she had begun to doubt). This was not a bridge too far in itself. But a chill did pass through her as she connected some of the pieces of what Brooke was saying – or rather trying not to say.

“Brooke… One of those times the eagle helped you. Was it… that day? On the roof?”

A moment’s stillness drew out before Brooke finally dared to say, “... Yes.”

“Oh,” Kate murmured, stricken.

“I didn’t know which way you’d gone. I had no idea where to look. But that bird, it– it was waiting for me outside. It… started to fly toward the dorm building.” Brooke was fidgeting her hands again, staring down. “I’ve never run so fast in my life.”

This was more difficult for Kate to absorb, but after more seconds of leaden silence passed, she felt herself slowly coming to peace with it. Finally, she exhaled and spoke again. “It sounds like somebody is watching over you. This is amazing, but… what does it have to do with these visions of yours?”

“That’s the thing. I’m not entirely sure. I never had a trace of those before I saw the eagle. Then I started seeing it more. It was trying to show me things. Make me notice stuff… It started to appear more during these stressful situations. And almost at the same time, I started to experience those flashes, also during stressful moments. Maybe the eagle gave me the power?”

“You’ve really been having these visions that far back?”

Brooke nodded. “It started with dreams. The day we caught Jefferson, I dreamed of catching Rachel’s killer, only for this… storm.” She swallowed heavily, and Kate felt her own heart sink a little. “A storm came and swept me away right after. Before that, a week before. The day you went to that party. I saw you in the rain, looking so down, in need of help. And I ran to get you, but there were all these people in the way, pushing against me.”

Kate was sure she’d paled a little. “That’s eerie. But… how are you sure the dreams are connected to what happened the other week?”

“They are only obvious in hindsight,” Brooke admitted. “But it was that vision of the truck which clinched that. It looked the same as the dreams did, only I was awake – and what it was trying to tell me was a bit clearer.”

Brooke let out a breath. “So, yeah, back then I had no idea that my dreams were trying to tell me anything. The first time I actually noticed anything amiss was in the junkyard. When Jefferson had his gun pointed at me. I kept thinking of things I could do to stop him or escape, and just got these visions of him aerating me with bullet holes whenever I tried something wrong.”

Kate squirmed in discomfort at Brooke’s description. She didn’t want to think of that. “How does that work? I mean, you said you thought you were seeing the future, but obviously none of those things actually happened, right?”

“I think I’m seeing possible futures,” Brooke clarified, her eyes lighting up as she got to explain her theory further. “This just implies that the future isn’t actually deterministic, and that I can avert it from happening by choosing to respond differently to the visions.”

“You’ve proved free will, in other words,” Kate added with a small laugh, before sobering, the implications of all this catching up to her. “I… mm. This is a lot.”

“But you believe me?”

“I do,” Kate assured her, fully honest in saying so. “You wouldn’t make something like this up. And if your powers, or your animal guide, or whatever, led you to that rooftop that day, then…” She hid her gaze, bashful. “Then I thank God for giving you this gift. It… makes sense to me.”

Clearly relieved, Brooke, who was still enveloped in Kate’s arm, leaned over a bit further to rest her head on her shoulder, as if too tired to hold it up herself any longer. “Thank you.”

Kate glowed with warmth and happiness, relishing in that closeness. This moment… it was all that Kate wanted.

Well, maybe not all.

She felt guilty, knowing that Brooke was just looking for comfort, while Kate herself was looking for… more. Did Brooke allow moments like these because of false pretenses? Was Kate wrong for still treasuring them?

Hesitant, she lifted her hand where it rested on Brooke’s other side, steadily bringing it to her head instead. When she let her fingers thread through the raven-black and occasional shock of highlights in Brooke’s hair, the other girl didn’t complain, or draw away; she sighed instead, sounding happy.

Just once, Kate would still the guilt inside, and allow herself to feel comfort and joy instead. Just once she would communicate how she really felt for Brooke, in deed if not in words.

Just once, and no more, she vowed, despite knowing that it was a promise she could never keep.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, December 31st 2013 [ Brooke ]

“A sunflower.”

“... Okay…”

“Uh, some sort of bird. A sparrow?”

“Right…”

“Hah! A purple sea star. Nice one.”

“Yes…”

Grinning, Brooke crossed her arms behind her head. She rocked back in her lawn chair, almost toppling in the process, which forced her to correct her posture and pout at Kate’s giggling. “Hmph. Okay, one more, come on.”

Kate had her phone screen angled toward her chest, held where Brooke couldn’t see it. She adjusted the blanket draped over her legs and swiped her thumb for yet another picture, and looked at Brooke with expectant eyes.

In a hazy double of the scene, Brooke witnessed Kate shaking her head and turning the phone around to show a painting – a familiar one, a woman with an enigmatic smile.

Back in the present, Brooke let her lips quirk in a satisfied grin and said, “The Mona Lisa.”

Kate tilted her head to the side, releasing a bemused breath which fogged in the wintry air. “Okay, that’s ten in a row. I think you’ve proved your point!” Her hazel eyes, dark but glinting in the night, searched Brooke with obvious intrigue. “It’s hard to believe that it’s real. But it is. It really, actually is…”

“Yeah,” Brooke agreed. “I think I’m starting to get the hang of it. Well… for small stuff, at least. I don’t think I’m going to be able to predict the Super Bowl winner or anything.”

Brooke bobbed her foot as she talked, staring out over Devils Lake. She and Kate had set their chairs up by the lake shore about an hour before, facing southwest toward the town and the harbor, neither of which were quite visible over the trees. The minutes to midnight were steadily ticking by, but in each other’s company, neither of them were bored.

Since the incident with the truck, she had tried various ways to trigger her abilities intentionally. After confessing about it all to Kate, two minds had proved better than one, and Kate had ended up suggesting something which sounded an awful lot like meditation. She had spent an hour every day closing her eyes and concentrating ever since.

It turned out to be a good idea, because as difficult as it was to actually clear her mind, she started to detect those clouds swirling at the edges of her consciousness. They were elusive and didn’t yield to her grasp very easily – but that was starting to change, bit by bit.

Seeming to see through Brooke’s casual, almost dismissive remarks about the subject, Kate planted her chin in her gloved hand and asked, “Doesn’t it scare you?”

Brooke thought of feeling Jefferson’s bullets rip through her, and the sound of a truck hitting someone. She pursed her lips. “... I guess. How would you feel?”

“I’d be terrified,” came Kate’s quiet answer as she slipped her phone back into the breast pocket of her jacket, still watching Brooke. “If you think about it, it’s sort of like something else is reaching into your mind and putting thoughts there. We still don’t really know what caused this power to appear.”

The imploring gaze coming from the other girl made Brooke sink into her seat, groaning quietly. “Okay, I’m going to need a little more holiday cheer to balance the scales if I’m going to start being honest about how all this makes me feel.”

Flashing a mischievous smile at that, Kate reached into the lunch cooler sitting between their chairs. Supposedly there were some sandwiches in there to tide them over since Kate’s parents had been out all evening and they hadn’t had much of a dinner. Brooke hadn’t expected to see a wine bottle appear instead.

“Would this help?” Kate asked innocently.

“Whoa,” Brooke pronounced. “You know, champagne is usually more traditional for New Years’.”

“I didn’t have any champagne.”

Brooke laughed, disbelieving. “Wait, but you had the wine sitting around? Kate?”

Kate sniffed archly as she opened the bottle – it was the cheap kind, with a screw-on cap instead of a cork. “This is my blood, which is poured out for many.” She was putting on her best imitation of straight-laced, Sunday school discipline; her rosy cheeks could pass for being from the cold, but Brooke suspected otherwise.

“Gnarly,” Brooke mumbled as she was handed the bottle. After considering it for just a moment, she took a swig. “I thought your congregation practiced closed communion.”

She was admittedly a little proud to have picked up enough of this stuff to make smart aleck remarks like that one. Religion still interested her very little, but she had come to prefer being able to meet Kate on her terms and listen carefully to the stuff she cared about. There was always this little spark in Kate’s eye when she caught Brooke doing it.

Kate laughed at the joke, a little dryly, as she accepted the bottle back to have her own turn drinking. “I don’t know if you noticed, Brooke, but I’m not exactly a good Lutheran girl anymore. I’m fallen, remember? If I’m already dancing with the devil, I might as well enjoy myself.”

Brooke was left a little aghast at the bluntness of Kate’s humor. “Kate, you know that’s not true.”

“I do,” she sighed. “Sorry. Just venting a little. But… it is true that I’m starting to wonder what the point is in trying quite so hard to act pure and perfect when nobody believes it anyway.”

Kate took another, longer drink from the bottle, before she handed it back to Brooke. Brooke found herself staring into it a second as she thought about what Kate just said.

“It’s not all an act. Right? You seem to prefer being polite and taking things in moderation anyway.”

“Of course,” Kate answered, trying to reassure Brooke with a smile. “I’m not secretly a whole different person underneath it all. But not allowing myself any fun? Never talking back…? That’s certainly not me.” Then she focused. “You still have to answer my question, you know.”

Brooke wanted to say that she’d like Kate no matter how much she decided to cut loose, but fell short in an awkward grimace when the interrogation came back around her way. Was she there yet? She’d had enough sips of the wine already to feel a warm buzz settle over her senses as they talked.

Whatever. Kate had already seen her at her worst, and… Kate was still here despite that. Some feeling about this fact flitted around Brooke like a hummingbird, too fast (and blurry) for her to grasp before it was gone. She took a breath and answered.

“I’m scared shitless of this power, Kate. And frustrated. And angry. But… a bit excited. It’s all jumbled up in my head.” She paused for another drink. The wine was going down easier. Despite its cheap vintage, it didn’t taste half bad. “I’m angry that it showed me the destruction of Arcadia Bay coming but didn’t give me the knowledge to prevent it. And of course I don’t like that it just takes me over sometimes. But… it’s a fucking superpower. How many people can say they have something like that?”

Kate hummed, considering. “I’d be confused in your situation, too. I guess you don’t know what to make of it yet.”

Brooke threw her hands up. “Is it a blessing? A curse? A test from a higher power to see how badly I can screw things up by trying to prevent the future?”

After her hands dropped, a long pause drew out. A distant thump sounded from another town as someone set off fireworks in their backyard. Kate had her head angled up, something a little lazier to her posture now that the bottle had passed back and forth a few times. Brooke thought the casual manner suited her.

“I think,” the blonde finally said, slow and purposeful, “that’s for you to decide.”

This answer brought a small laugh out of Brooke, who let her head fall back against the backrest of her chair. “Three months ago, that’s the last answer I would have expected from you. You would have said it was all part of some greater plan…”

“Would I?” Kate wondered aloud. “Maybe. A lot’s changed since then.”

“You haven’t,” Brooke said, turning her head to smile, a little more brazenly than she might have a few minutes earlier. “Not where it’s really important.”

“You have,” Kate said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at her features. “But only in the good ways.”

“Thank God for that,” came her reply as she lifted the bottle to the sky in mock salute.

Then boom. Her hand jostled the bottle, sloshing the liquid as red light spilled in distorted waves through the glass. Confused, Brooke lowered the bottle to find the embers of a detonated firework still falling through the sky past the lake, realizing belatedly that she had not, in fact, managed to cause an explosion with her toast.

“Two minutes to midnight,” Kate reported after a quick glance at her phone. She clapped her hands in excitement after she put it away, the sound muffled by her gloves. Then, with a look of acute concentration on her face, she passed her gaze between her lap and the cooler between them a few times. Brooke was about to ask what she was thinking about before Kate finally made up her mind, pushing the cooler out of the way, then scooting her chair closer.

Bemused, Brooke allowed Kate to throw her blanket over both their legs. It was getting kind of cold out, so she appreciated that much. It seemed appropriate to sit closer and enjoy the moment, as one after another, Lincoln City’s fireworks started to go off.

Clumsy, Brooke fished her own phone out of her coat pocket so she could watch the last seconds of 2013 tick by. A process she was momentarily distracted from when she felt the light thump of Kate’s soft hair coming to rest against her shoulder.

“Thank God for nothing. You were always more than that, Brooke,” Kate mumbled from beside her. “The you that you are now was just under the surface. Waiting.”

“I don’t know about that,” Brooke started to say, only to come up short. She felt Kate’s fingers brush along hers as she took the bottle away from her and set it down in the bristly grass by the foot of their chairs. Turning, she saw Kate fixing her with a rather serious, earnest look. A bit… intense. She didn’t know what to make of it.

“It’s true,” Kate insisted, softly but firmly. “I knew you were a good person, Brooke. Even back when you didn’t.” Her lips pursed. “Maybe… you still don’t. But you…”

Brooke may have been a little tipsy, but she still wasn’t churlish enough to interrupt Kate to disagree when she paused for breath. Brooke’s eyes were wide, uncomprehending, the light of distant fireworks down in the bay illuminating them both as she dealt with the emotional weight of Kate’s words.

Kate finally lifted her eyes, which looked a little watery. Uncertain, but still warm and fond as they always were. “You’ve touched my life. Despite everything, you’ve made this year… this crazy year… worth living.” Eyes shining, she lifted her chin. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Now Kate was watching her expectantly, and Brooke was left a little choked up, unsure how to respond, unsure what could even compete with that. She absently noted the phone still in her peripheral vision – thirty seconds.

“Kate, I…”

Another firework thumped. Twenty seconds.

“... I’m not really good at talking about my feelings,” she finally said. Kate smiled faintly and shrugged, waiting for her to go on, and Brooke did. “But you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I’ve… never felt as comfortable around another person as I do with you.”

Ten seconds.

“You make me feel like I can be myself, without shame, or self-awareness. That’s… new to me.” She finished by flashing an awkward smile. “So thanks. I’m… I’m glad you’re here, too.”

Five seconds. Kate studied Brooke’s face, and she wondered if she had said something wrong. But Kate’s smile returned when three seconds remained, and Brooke knew that Kate approved after all.

Two seconds. A brief silence, the fireworks in the town going quiet, building up to something greater. Kate leaned closer.

One.

Wednesday, January 1st 2014

As confused and surprised as Brooke was, she didn’t move away. The sudden roar of fireworks, she thought, made for an appropriate backdrop to the soft kiss that Kate left on her cheek. It certainly matched the confused – if pleased – thundering in her own head.

“Happy New Year, Brooke,” said Kate in a voice almost too quiet to hear beneath the din.

Brooke managed to find her brain again, somehow, just in time to rub the spot on her cheek – burning with heat suddenly – and respond, “Happy New Year to you too, Kate.”

Neither of them found any more words to be appropriate. Still leaning on each other under the blanket, unaffected by the winter chill, they watched blossoms of light erupt in the sky, gold and silver and every color in between.

Chapter Text

Monday, January 6th 2014 [ Brooke ]

Well, here it is, Brooke thought with a trace of dread as she stared up at the building which housed Wecoma Career & Technical High School. The gray, modernist facade was an unassuming one, almost bland, especially compared with the stately, old-fashioned brick of Blackwell. A few other businesses were housed in the same complex, including the library she’d been visiting. All of this seemed to make the school itself shrink in significance, just a part of a bigger whole.

But despite that fact, it still seemed to loom over her. Brooke was taking her sweet time in entering, shifting nervously from foot to foot, trying to mentally prepare herself.

She wondered what her experience would be like. The size of the classes was quite small, she knew already. Would she stand out badly? Would the quality of the education be what it was made out to be?

For as much as she had hated some things about Blackwell, how much she had yearned to escape Arcadia Bay, Brooke had never actually imagined what it would be like not to be there anymore. This was an entirely novel experience for her, and there was much she had to relearn.

Lesson one: don’t stand right next to a busy road. A truck screamed by and Brooke jolted, stepping away, clutching the strap of her laptop bag. It took her a moment to calm her breathing.

Thus rattled out of her reverie, Brooke pulled her bag and her jacket closer, approached that gray building, and did her best not to worry.

As she walked, Brooke’s eyes went this way and that, contrasting what she saw with the school she left behind. Unlike Blackwell’s linoleum floors and locker-lined hallways, Wecoma’s halls were narrow and carpeted a light blue. It looked more like an office building. The odd bulletin board lacked the school events and parties which Brooke was accustomed to, showing notices about academic deadlines instead.

Though a few people passed her by, she paid them as little mind as they did her. She was set on locating her first stop of the day: Mr. Huang’s room, number 204, fundamentals of electrical engineering. She had spent most of the last month and a half taking catch-up tests on the first semester material, which had kept her awfully busy on top of work and other obligations. Still, here she was after all, caught up and about as ready to resume her education as she’d ever be.

Because she’d spent a few minutes hesitating outside the building, by the time she found the room only a few stragglers were still walking in. As she peeked past the threshold, she caught the eye of a short, heavy-set man with a friendly face, who was sitting at the desk at the head of the room inside. He could only be Mr. Huang. Smiling, he stood and walked over to step into the hall and greet her.

“Hello! Are you Brooke?”

“That’s me,” she offered along with a shy smile. “It’s great to finally be here.”

“And it’s great to have you. The superintendent told me about your application. I’ve been excited to meet you properly.” He glanced over his shoulder, back toward the room. “Would you prefer just sitting down without any fanfare? Or would you like to say hello to the class first? I know some of them are curious about the new transfer student.”

Brooke considered it for a moment. Although she was nervous, it could be nice to break the ice a bit and smooth the transition. She nodded once she made up her mind. “Feel free to introduce me. I’m looking forward to getting to know everybody.”

“Alright!” He started to turn, stopped, and looked back. “Oh, and – let me know if you need anything.”

After she nodded in understanding, she let Mr. Huang lead her into the classroom. It wasn’t much like the free arrangement of tables and desks that she was used to, with fixed rows of tables lining a lecture hall that she thought looked pretty similar to that of a college. It wasn’t a very large room, but it was mostly full, with about twelve or thirteen other students inside.

They were all looking at her with curiosity, of course. It was a little unnerving having so many eyes on her at once, but she bucked up her courage and did her best to meet their gazes as she came to stand by Mr. Huang’s desk at the head of the room.

As she inspected them in turn, taking in all the new faces, she froze when her eyes found a boy – tall, pale, with a curly mop of red hair. She knew him, of course. It was hard not to recognize the boy she had pulled out of the way of a speeding truck just a couple of months earlier.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

He looked as surprised as she felt. And looking around, she saw that the other four teens who were there that day were all sitting near him, some staring at her with just as much bafflement. She almost didn’t notice that Mr. Huang had already started introducing her.

“... joining us from the famous Blackwell Academy in Arcadia Bay, Oregon. I hope that you’ll all make Miss Scott feel welcome during her time with us. But perhaps it would be best to let her introduce herself in her own words.”

Oh boy. Brooke recollected herself and greeted everyone with a smile that she hoped looked at least mostly human in its aspect. “Uh, hey. I’m Brooke, I’m 18, and I’m hoping to go into aviation engineering after graduation. I don’t want to take up too much time from the class, but if you have any questions about me or Arcadia Bay, I’m willing to answer them.”

Gazes were passed around, a collective holding of breath. Brooke held hers, too; she knew what was on their minds already, but considered this ripping off the band-aid. Better to just get all the awkward junk out of the way first. The ginger kid and his friends were whispering among themselves, but it was a girl at the front who spoke up first.

“What was Blackwell like?”

A question that resonated with more than a few people there, Brooke saw, judging by how everyone perked up. She wouldn’t be surprised if some of them had considered applying there, or tried but didn’t make it. All things considered, they’re the lucky ones.

“It was a nice old campus. Historic. Cool location, too, you could see the whole bay on a clear day. It goes without saying that the curriculum was good, but the homework was insane sometimes.” She made a face, figuring it would be dishonest not to mention the downsides. “It was cliquey. A lot of old money went into that place – some of it pretty dirty. The son of the richest man in town got away with anything he wanted, and that trickled on down to the culture of the whole place. Sometimes it seemed like Blackwell was more about the crazy parties than actual learning. That part wasn’t my speed.”

“You’re talking about the Prescotts, right?” another kid near the front asked.

“... Right, I guess everyone’s heard of them already,” Brooke grumbled, to a smattering of laughter. “No comment.”

“Did you hear that Kristine Prescott is coming back to the country? She was in the Peace Corps or something, but she’s going to be taking over the family business.” That was the first girl again.

Brooke blinked, then frowned. “... No, I hadn’t heard about that. I honestly haven’t kept up with much of anything related to the Bay since I left. Kristine was a few years ahead of me, and graduated before I started at Blackwell. I never knew her, but I hope she’s nicer than her dad was.”

A thoughtful silence elapsed as the students looked between one another, considering. Brooke saw the redheaded kid, still looking like he was trying to figure her out, screwing up his brow in concentration. Finally, he worked up the courage to speak. “Do you know anything about all that weird stuff that was supposedly happening in Arcadia Bay? Like the snow, or the eclipse?”

“As much as anyone who was there does,” Brooke said. She shifted awkwardly as she talked, wary of saying too much and coming across as crazy. “It happened, it was weird… I have no good, scientific explanation for it. All I can say for sure is that all the stuff about mass hallucinations is bunk. I don’t feel qualified to speculate any more than that.”

Brooke saw mixed skepticism and intrigue go around the room. Only a second passed before a boy with olive skin and short, dark hair – one of the redheaded boy’s friends – raised his hand. He didn’t actually need to do that, so Brooke looked at him askance before saying, “Uh, go ahead.”

“What was the storm like? Did you get to see the tornado?”

Mr. Huang interrupted, sighing wearily. “Tucker…”

“No, no. It’s fine.” Brooke waved him off, ignoring her own discomfort, and answered. “It was dark, it was windy, and it was scary. I didn’t get to see it, because I was busy taking shelter in a hospital stairwell. It only lasted for a minute, but it was the longest minute of my life. I thought I was going to die. Honestly, I’m just grateful that I and everyone else there made it through safely.”

Looking halfway between mollified by the answer and embarrassed by the teacher admonishing him, Tucker nodded and settled back in his seat. The last student to speak up was another of that same group of five, a girl with a tan complexion and long, straight brown hair. She had a bit of a severe, searching look on her face, and looked to be either trying to vivisect Brooke with her eyes or intimidate her into submission.

“How exactly did you manage to catch up quickly enough to join this class?”

Brooke thought the girl sounded kind of wary of her, though she couldn’t say why. Maybe she thought Brooke had cheated her way in or something? She decided to nip that one in the bud. “Once I got all the materials from the district, I spent two hours every evening focused on studying and filling out quizzes. Boring answer, I know, sorry. I busted my hump to get here since I really, really wanted to still graduate on time… despite everything.”

Stumped by not getting whatever reaction she had expected, the girl leaned back again with her arms crossed, quiet. From his desk, Mr. Huang surveyed the room once more, and then took charge again.

“Well, I was certainly right about everyone being curious. I think it’s time we got underway with our first lesson of the semester. Thank you, Brooke. Take a seat.”

Brooke turned to do so, allowing herself a mental pat on the back for getting through that one alive. As she looked for a seat, she found the redheaded boy gesturing to an empty spot next to him and his friends. Though the offer gave her pause, Brooke couldn’t find an excuse to turn it down, and just nodded awkwardly in thanks as she took the seat.

Ignoring glances from all across the room for the whole class, Brooke just focused on taking notes and listening to Mr. Huang teach. Before she knew it, the period had passed and students were starting to filter out. It didn’t surprise her to see that the group she had sat with lingered behind. She noticed the redheaded boy looking her way and smiled at him sheepishly.

No sooner had she looked his way than he thrust a hand out stiffly for a shake. “Duncan. Uh– that’s my name. Obviously.”

It consoled her a little that he seemed to be doing just as badly in the awkwardness department as she was. Shaking his hand, Brooke found herself chuckling at the stumbling introduction. “Hi, Duncan. You know me already.”

“Sure do. As of today, anyway. It’s great to meet you properly this time. Uh…” He drummed his fingers on the table, his half-packed bag sitting there sagging a bit as it was jostled. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you. For saving my life? You sort of ran off.”

Brooke expected this, so she nodded along steadily no matter how weird she felt getting put on the spot. “I sort of panicked, sorry. But I was just in the right place at the right time. It was nothing.”

Duncan frowned slightly at that. “It wasn’t nothing to me. I was almost a splatter.”

Something in his phrasing gave Brooke pause – echoes of words spoken to her by Victoria on the day of the storm. It matters to us. A little chastened, she nodded back. “Yeah. You’re right, sorry. I’m glad I could help.”

He was mollified by that, a smile terminating with a surprised blink. “Oh, right. Let me introduce you.” He turned toward the other four teens sitting nearby, who had all been observing the interaction with varying degrees of interest. “You met Tucker already.”

Tucker waved shyly before correcting himself to stick the hand out for a shake as Brooke expected him to do. “Nice to meet you. You seem really cool.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” she responded with an abashed laugh as she shook his hand, too.

Duncan moved on, tapping the boy sitting to his other side, the same kid with glasses who Brooke had seen accidentally tip Duncan into traffic. “That’s Hakim. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers, basically…”

Hakim smiled across Duncan at Brooke with a small nod. “Nice to meet you,” he simply said, his voice soft and quiet.

Seemingly expecting no more from his shy friend, Duncan looked over his shoulder. “Behind me, that beam of sunshine is Sierra.”

That was the girl with the frowning face who had asked how Brooke caught up. She still had a thoughtful look, but appeared less unhappy with Brooke than she did before. Success? Brooke reached out first, and Sierra followed by taking the hand in a firm shake. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Brooke.”

“Yeah. Likewise.” Her hand ached a little when she pulled it back. Scary…

And as that passed, Duncan craned his head to look on Sierra’s other side, where there was one last person sitting. Aside from dirty blond hair cut very short, the other thing that immediately stood out to Brooke was the sunglasses being worn indoors. That made more sense after a moment when she spotted a cane propped against the table next to them.

“And I’m Lee, who can introduce themself just fine, thanks.” Lee sent a rueful smirk in the direction of Duncan, who looked faintly embarrassed, the others chuckling at his expense. Lee leaned over to offer their hand, which Brooke shook, finally rounding the group out. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too. Uh… Themself?” Brooke echoed back, curious.

“I’m non-binary,” Lee clarified. “Up to speed on that?”

Brooke thought for a second, then nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it online. Not too familiar with it or anything. I think you’re the first non-binary person I’ve ever met. Could I ask about that?”

“If you want,” Lee said with an amused chuckle. “And out of the two things people always ask about when they meet me, that’s honestly the one I prefer. Ask away.”

There was a lot that she was curious about really, but for some reason she found her mind going to Julie and her mom again, and the questions she hadn’t yet had the courage to ask. Sure, it wasn’t the same thing, but maybe something in Lee’s words would clear some of it up for her.

“Well, I guess… How did you know?”

“Ah, that’s the big one,” Lee remarked, their head tilted slightly in thought. “It was more like I knew what didn’t work for me. Trying to conform to how I was expected to dress, to present myself. Trying hard to make people look at me like I was ‘normal’. I constantly felt like there was some memo I didn’t get, some book I wasn’t playing by. When I tried to just guess my way through it anyway, it just felt wrong.”

“So what did you do?” Brooke asked, finding herself leaning forward a little in rapt attention.

“I tried my own way. Did what felt authentic to me, first and foremost. It took a long time, and I don’t wanna go into all the particulars to be honest. But I ended up pretty happy.”

Brooke found herself seriously admiring that. A lot of what Lee said about struggling to check the same boxes as everyone else really resonated with her. She wished she had the kind of direction and confidence that Lee was talking about; then she could find something that really worked for her, a solution to the anxiety she had felt while thinking about dating Warren or going out with Daniel. Sadly, Brooke couldn’t imagine a world where that was a reality. She just… wasn’t that brave.

“I think you broke her,” Duncan remarked when Brooke was silent in thought for too long.

“Ah? No, I’m fine! Sorry.” Brooke shook her head. “Uh, thanks for sharing that Lee. I never thought about that kind of stuff in those terms, but it kind of seems like you kicked gender’s ass, huh?”

“You’re going to give them a swollen head,” Tucker groaned from his seat, while Sierra rolled her eyes.

Lee just laughed at his dismay. “No, let her go on! I’m awesome!”

“You are awesome,” Brooke said with a small laugh of her own. “You’re all pretty cool, actually. I would have loved having more people like you at Blackwell, and less of the rich snobs.”

“Couldn’t get me in that place for love or money,” Lee swore, shaking their head. “That place is– well, was a complete hazard, accessibility wise.”

“Wait, really? How’s that?” Brooke blinked at them.

“I could have gotten in,” they said, carelessly leaning back in their chair. “But when me and my dad went up to tour campus and everything, they barely had any Braille in the library, not enough handrails anywhere, tons of stairs but no elevators or ramps.”

“Holy crap, I seriously never noticed any of that,” Brooke remarked, appalled.

“I don’t blame you, it’s easy to miss things like that when you don’t need them yourself.”

“Isn’t all that kind of against the law?”

“Probably, but Blackwell was a registered historical landmark on top of everything else. From what I hear, they fell back on that excuse the last few times someone tried to force them to pay for renovations.”

“Historical pile of rubble now,” Brooke mumbled. “Hopefully if it gets rebuilt someday, the new management won’t be such penny pinchers.”

She saw that the joke had a mixed reception; Duncan, Hakim and Tucker all looked like they weren’t sure whether it was appropriate to laugh or not. Sierra had no such compunctions, breaking the silence with a small noise which drew Brooke’s attention to her sardonic grin.

“Okay, I think I’m going to like you after all.”

“Someone for Sierra to share her dark sense of humor with,” Hakim sighed. “Goodie.”

“Mr. Huang’s giving us a look,” Duncan noted, and everyone but Lee glanced over to see the teacher raising a bemused eyebrow at the six of them, who were still lingering well after the class had ended. “Probably time to move along. But Brooke, if you want in on our study group, you’re welcome any time.”

“Thanks, you guys. I think that’s probably just what I need.” With that, they split and departed for their next classes. Brooke went with a lighter heart than before, happy that she might be able to make some new friends here after all.

But as she went about her day, she found that for all Blackwell’s issues, there was a certain warmth that just hadn’t followed her here. The building had a coldness to it, an absence. Was it because it was all sciences and no arts? It didn’t have the charming displays or the creative energy Blackwell had.

Her mind strayed as she thought of a certain someone who wasn’t here, instead starting her first day at some Christian school in the next town over. And as it strayed further, her cheeks heated a little when she remembered a certain event on New Year’s Eve she had been trying to put out of mind.

It was hard to deny that Kate was the missing piece, in one way or another.

And it was helpful that Brooke had a busy enough day ahead of her not to analyze that too much.

Chapter Text

Saturday, January 25th 2014 [ Brooke ]

Harsh, blue LED light cast its way between printed silicon and capacitors, casting geometric shadows. The light moved in a slow, purposeful path, checking one row of components after another. Soon, the light froze, arresting in place a dust bunny, hiding like its animal counterpart down a hole. It was stuck in the heat sink, stubbornly lodged where it was least wanted.

“Got you, you little jerk,” Brooke muttered to herself. “Would it kill people to just open their rigs and dust them out before deciding they’re broken…?”

“Then we would be out of business,” someone else said matter-of-factly behind her.

“True,” she sighed, straightening up and setting the flashlight down. She was sitting at the checkout desk at PC Universe in Lincoln City’s outlet mall. Little computer shops like this were rare in some places, but without a Best Buy in town to compete with, PC Universe seemed to be doing alright.

The voice belonged to the proprietor of the shop, alias “Dougie”, a sleepy-looking Gen X type with thinning hair. He had been a hacker in his prime, in his own words, but Brooke suspected he’d lost his edge somewhere on the other side of Y2K. Still, he knew his stuff, and wasn’t too bad of a boss, at least as far as her limited experience could tell.

Dougie glanced at his watch while continuing to lean on the wall, where he’d been supervising her working on this computer that got brought in for the last few minutes. “Fifteen to closing. You can drop it there and leave early, I’ll finish cleaning it out and lock up for the night. I doubt anyone else is going to walk in.”

Brooke blinked over her shoulder at him, turning away from the PC. “Are you sure? I can stay until closing, it’s fine.”

“Chasing dust bunnies is beneath you, honestly,” he answered with a gruff laugh. “Besides, it’s getting late. Your family is probably going to get worried, right?”

Speechless for a moment and staring into nothing, Brooke surrendered with a small nod, picking herself up to grab her bag from its spot behind the counter. “Yeah. Probably.”

“I’ll see you Tuesday,” Dougie called as she walked out, joining the jingling bell over the door in bidding Brooke farewell.

As she stepped into the night, Brooke lifted her head to feel the cold air on her cheeks. Identical outlets were spread out on either side, the parking lot mostly empty. The sky was clear and a few stars were visible.

Not for the first time, she reflected that she was lucky to actually end up at PC Universe in the first place. She had cast her job application net pretty wide, but this was always the one she was crossing her fingers for. The first few weeks had been the leadup to the holidays, which were pretty crazy. Ever since, things had been more quiet, something she was honestly a bit disappointed by.

After all, it meant she was spending more time at the Marsh house.

But Dougie was right, it was getting late. Her shift ended at a pretty awkward time, with respect to the bus schedule. Did she really want to wait around in the cold for the bus? Once there would have been no question about it, but spending more time out of the house had some beneficial side effects. She had been walking a whole lot more than she ever did in Arcadia Bay and was more fit than she used to be, so the two or three miles between the store and the house were really no issue.

With her mind made up, she started to head out of the outlet mall to find and follow the main road. After fishing in the side pocket of her bag, she hooked her earbuds up to her phone and put on some music to keep her company along the way.

Wanting to spend as much time away from the house as she could made Brooke feel pretty ungrateful, if she was being honest with herself. Kate’s dad and sisters were great – if they really were her family, like Dougie had innocently assumed, she would feel pretty privileged. But here she was, holding them at an arm’s length because she was worried about Kate’s mom.

And why did she care so much what Mrs. Marsh thought of her, anyway? She was hardly the nicest person in the world. In fact, just from the way Kate and Grace reacted to her, Brooke could tell she wasn’t a fantastic mom, either. By all rights, she should have written off the idea of trying to win her over three months ago.

But maybe Brooke was just a little tired of being rejected. Maybe she wanted to feel like she belonged somewhere for once. Was that so wrong?

The thought, so bitter she could almost taste it, lingered until she screwed up her face, pronounced an “Ugh,” into the night that no one else was around to hear, and turned up her music.

There. That was nice and distracting. As was the sight of Devils Lake, coming up on her right as she went to follow the shore, the mostly full moon glittering on the water surface. It was easy to forget the hard parts about living here when she saw things like this, and easier to remember the good. School had been going well, after all, and she was getting along great with Duncan, Lee, and the others.

Oh. And one of her favorite Pendulum songs was playing on shuffle right now, too. That was also a plus.

Along the way, we got divided,

And I'm left showing you the door.

You couldn't look me in the eyes…

… But as she listened to that, stopped momentarily by the lakeside, she realized that thinking of her new friends really made her miss Warren. And so did listening to breakup songs, for that matter.

She reached into her pocket to hit skip, and kept walking.

Brooke was starting to realize that her homesickness was never really for Arcadia Bay, the place. It was for people. Like Warren, who she was still convinced that she had failed in some profound way. Or her mom. Or Kate, who she barely saw outside of book club meetings lately.

She told herself that no amount of regretting could change what happened to Warren or her mom, or give her a second chance. And she told herself, too, that in four months, she and Kate would graduate, and they would have more time together.

… Wouldn’t they?

Kate would be off to some high tier arts program in San Francisco or New England, no doubt, but Brooke… Where would Brooke go? Once she got off her butt and got serious about sending out applications, she’d land a spot at some other college, in all likelihood. They would be split up.

But that’s what happened to high school friends when college rolled around, right? That was normal. It was… fine.

But no matter how much she told herself that, she couldn’t chase away the feeling of deep sadness and dread it left her with. Even the idea of being without Kate in the abstract still depressed her.

Maybe walking home and allowing herself more alone time with her thoughts wasn’t such a great idea after all. She felt worse than she did when she started. And here was the Marsh family home in front of her, a solitary light on inside. It was already past ten.

Sighing, Brooke took off her earbuds and fished the spare house key out of her pocket. She’d be quiet coming in so she wouldn’t wake anybody up. Since her shifts usually ended quite late, she had gotten a knack for it. The knob turned silently, and her shoe found the welcome mat inside with a delicate step as she left the cold night behind for the warmth of the home.

Pausing there for a moment, Brooke frowned in confusion when she heard voices drifting from the kitchen. It was kind of unusual for any of the Marsh clan to be up this late, since they were all early risers. Curious, she pricked her ears and listened.

“... can’t keep this up forever, Richard. It’s just not decent.”

“Do we really need to have this discussion, dear? It’s just a few more months, why can’t…”

“That few months could make all the difference and you know it.”

“I don’t know any such thing. She’s a good person. She watches out for the girls…”

Brooke was standing at the foot of the stairs, just around the corner and out of view of the kitchen. Her hand found the railing, gripping it tight for something to keep herself steady, as if it would ensure she wouldn’t be detected.

Her heart was plummeting rapidly as she realized that they were talking about her.

“She’s a girl of the world, Richard,” came Mrs. Marsh’s voice, dripping with scorn. “She’s probably not even baptized. Even if it’s not conscious, she’s a corruptive influence. She’ll lead the girls astray. Why should I have to deal with an atheist under my roof?”

Richard’s own voice turned a bit more stern under the brunt of his wife’s disdain. “She’s also an orphan, Carolann, she has no one else. She saved Katie’s life. It’s clear she loves her. Why isn’t that enough for you?”

“Maybe that’s exactly the problem.”

There was a long pause of confused silence in the other room, during which Brooke fidgeted uncomfortably. “What on earth do you mean?” Richard eventually asked, sounding flummoxed.

“Oh come on, Richard. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it. How she clings to her. How… touchy she is with Kate.” Her voice dropped lower, to the point Brooke almost had trouble hearing it. “I think she may be a homosexual.”

A homosexual. A homosexual. A homosexual.

It was the way the word was said that got to her. The loathing, the sheer disgust. For the first time in months, Brooke remembered a shoulder pushing her roughly in the hallway. Dyke.

When she was a little girl, her mom had sat her down one day to gently explain how some people would disparage her, even hate her, for her heritage. For where her ancestors were from. Just for the way she looked. How, being Asian in America, she would always be treated differently than her white peers.

Her mom had been right, though Brooke liked to think she got off without the worst of it, even living in a nowhere town like Arcadia Bay. Sure, some teachers always seemed to give her twice the work of everybody else, and she had been leered at by older white boys, their disgusting remarks poorly hidden under their breath. But as hard as it was, she had never let it stop her. At the very least, she was accustomed to it.

This was… unexpected. This wasn’t something her mom had prepared her for. This wasn’t even something she thought she was.

But everyone else did. Why? Those who hated her threw it at her like a slur. Those she cared about teased her, or said they’d support her.

Once again, Brooke felt like she had missed the memo on something important. There was something else on her face that was plain to see – but somehow, all those years looking in the mirror, she had never noticed it.

She didn’t appreciate it very much.

She had also missed most of Richard’s response; when she returned to reality, he sounded annoyed. “... and that’s final. Just drop it. Please.”

“Fine,” Mrs. Marsh responded, clipped. “But don't say I didn't warn you.” The tension was thick in the air, even without a direct line of sight.

Brooke couldn’t stand it anymore. Not wishing to be caught listening in when they left the kitchen, she slinked her way silently up the stairs, her mind swimming all the way.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours. Brooke couldn’t sleep. Didn’t even try, really. Her gaze was stuck on the ceiling of her room.

Once again, she found herself missing the glow in the dark stars she had grown up sleeping under. After the various trips her mom had taken her on when she was young, coming back and falling asleep while drawing new constellations above her bed had always helped her settle down and rest. Like an ancient mariner navigating by the stars, they had led her to the feeling that she was back home again.

Was it really them that she missed, or was it her mother’s guidance? She had been absent a lot. Inconsistent. Distant, at times. But when she was there for Brooke, she had never once given her bad advice.

Her hand twitched, and she tipped her head over to gaze at her phone on the nightstand. It offered no light at that moment, its screen dark. Brooke’s mom wasn’t around to help her anymore, but maybe…

After debating with herself for a minute longer, Brooke surrendered, reached for it, and sent off a text message.

Brooke: sorry, i know it’s late, but i’m badly in need of someone older and wiser to talk to.

And, feeling a little guilty about it, she waited. A minute later, a response arrived.

Julie: I have time for you, don’t worry. What’s wrong?

Brooke hesitated, tried a few responses, but deleted them all.

Brooke: i don’t know what’s wrong. that’s kind of the problem.

Another short wait elapsed. No response. Then, finally:

Julie: Can I call you?

Brooke: ok.

Brooke silenced the ring just a moment before the call came in. She sat up and put the phone to her ear, staring at the floor as she did. She kept her voice down. “Hey.”

“Hi, Brooke,” said Julie on the other end. “Are you alright?”

Julie was doing a good job of not sounding tired, but enough of a hint was there in her voice that Brooke surmised she’d woken her up with her text. She felt kind of stupid and selfish for this now, but the deed was done. And despite herself, she did feel touched that Julie had taken the time for her regardless.

“Yeah,” Brooke answered mechanically, before thinking and amending herself. “Well… not entirely. I’m dealing with some problems over here that…” She paused to take a breath. “They’re kind of hard to explain, actually. Sorry– there’s a question I’ve really been meaning to ask you, and it might help me make some sense of what’s happening, but it’s… kind of personal?”

“Well, sure,” Julie answered, sounding only a little bit wary. “Fire away.”

In that case, full speed ahead. “What exactly was the relationship between you and my mom?”

Going by the brief silence, Brooke imagined that Julie was surprised. When she spoke again, she sounded abashed. “I’m… going to need to make a cup of coffee before I answer that one. It’s a bit of a tale. Can you wait a few minutes?”

Brooke exhaled, a little amused despite herself. “Sure. I’ve got no place to be.”

The time she waited felt longer than it really was. She stared at the angel painting on the wall, tapping her fingers on the bed sheet, until Julie finally returned.

“I’m back,” she announced. “With caffeine. Good thing I’m not working tomorrow.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Julie assured. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re on your own with this stuff. Now, uh… From your phrasing, I take it you’ve picked up on some subtext already. I’m not surprised. So… your suspicions were correct. Me and Vera… we were romantically involved.”

There it was. Hearing it out loud was quite a different animal than just thinking about it. Brooke had to wrap her mind around the truth before she spoke again. “Wow. Okay. Well, like… how? Why?”

“The why is hard to explain… Love always is, I guess. I was captivated from the moment we met, for my part. She was immediately arresting. Witty, outspoken, passionate… charming. And that crush just had me trailing after her like a lost puppy. I didn’t think she’d actually look my way, that she could actually… well, actually be interested in another girl.

“I spent our first two years of high school like that. Helping to get her out of trouble, since I was always better at kissing up to authority figures. Trying so hard to be noticed but not really expecting her to understand why. Then one day in our junior year, when I had landed myself in a holding cell next to your mom’s after another protest, I admitted to her …”

Brooke could hear the smile in Julie’s voice as she recalled that day. “Well, I didn’t quite confess. But I did admit I was scared, but that I was trying to be brave for her. She turned to me and said, ‘It’s alright. I’m scared too. I’m scared every time.’”

Julie chuckled quietly. “Which she could have fooled me about, since she never, ever showed it. But then she held my hand through the bars and said… ‘But every time, I know you’ll be there and I don't feel so afraid. I hope you’ll keep being there. With me.’” She went quiet for a moment, lost in wistful memory. “And from there, things… developed. I guess we were high school sweethearts.”

“That’s so cute,” Brooke breathed, struck by the picture of the scene. “But… if that’s the case, then… what happened between you two?”

“Her family did. They weren’t exactly happy about her getting herself in trouble all the time, and even less happy when they found out about me and her. She chose me over them. At first, anyway. But come graduation, well… things changed.” A momentary pause – probably taking a sip of coffee. “She was anxious about her future. She wanted to clean her act up a bit, get serious about her education. Which was all fine by me, of course. I wanted the best for her…

“So maybe it was my mistake, in the end. I followed along to the same college she did. And we tried, really. We kept things up, just… in private, so she wouldn’t be out on her ass without any money for tuition. But I think my being there frustrated her. I gave up a spot at a pretty good school, just to go to the same place she did. In hindsight, I think that’s what worried her more than anything else. But what she said to me was that she felt smothered. And then we met Edwin…”

“You knew my dad?” Brooke interjected, surprised.

“I did,” said Julie. Despite the events she was describing, her voice was still warm and fond. “We shared a lot of college classes. He was studying for a physics degree. Smart as hell, and just the sweetest guy. A bit secretive and moody, but I never held that against him. I wish I’d known… well, anyway… When Vera was growing apart from me and growing closer to him, they had my blessing. I let her go.”

“Wow,” Brooke mumbled again, absorbing that. “So she was… bi?”

“I don’t think she ever called herself as such, but gender certainly didn’t seem to matter to her. I hope the fact your mom was with me didn’t give you the impression she didn’t love your dad or anything. She absolutely adored that man.” Trailing off, some melancholy entered her voice as she said, “God love him. Gone way too soon…”

Brooke shared a little in Julie’s grief. Not for the first time, she found herself wishing she’d had a chance to know him. Would they have talked about science together? But she forced herself back to the present, where Julie was waiting for her to say something. “So you stayed friends after breaking up?”

“Not… exactly,” Julie admitted. “I realized she was right about me sabotaging myself to stay with her. I applied for a college that fit me better and left to finish my degree. I tried to stay in touch at first, but things were awkward, and, well… I just didn’t want to get in the way or mess things up with her family when she’d just started reconciling with them. So we slipped away from each other, until… until Edwin died.

“I didn’t even hear about it until a year after. She showed up at my door in Portland one day, said she was in town for work, but wanted to reconnect. I’d say it was like nothing had changed, but we had both grown up. It was hard to find a new equilibrium again. There were a lot of bruised feelings left over. And she was still grieving. But, somehow…”

Fresh surprise washed over Brooke. “Wait, so you got back together? Like… you were together? Until she died?”

“... Yeah,” Julie said, sounding sheepish. “We were. I really should have said something sooner, but you were still grieving, and… well, when I realized that she hadn’t told you, I was a little surprised myself. I didn’t want to overstep, and I wasn’t quite sure how to bring it up anyway.” Hesitation. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I get it.” Brooke sighed. All those business trips to Portland… Really, Mom? “It’s not your fault. I wouldn’t know what to say, either. Fuck. You’re almost my stepmom.”

“I don’t think I’ve earned that,” Julie admitted, her voice a little smaller. “I haven’t exactly been a part of your life.”

Brooke did not hasten to ask the next thing on her mind. She was almost afraid to know the answer. Afraid to be rejected again, maybe. But she had to know. “... Why weren’t you? Why was that day in your office the first time we ever met?”

She pictured Julie sinking in her seat as she talked. “God, Brooke… I did want to meet you, but your mother always put it off. Vera… she was good at compartmentalizing things in her life. Keeping them apart so she could manage them separately. Her work. Her family. Edwin. You… Me. I think it’s how she coped, especially after your dad passed away. I loved her. I really did. But she could be flaky sometimes. You know?”

“Yeah,” Brooke said, hanging her head. “I know. Trust me.”

A significant silence between them drew out. Brooke stared at the painting on the wall again for a while, thinking. Eventually, she was drawn back by Julie speaking. “So… there it is. Not that I’m not glad to get it all out in the open, but why did you ask?”

“Did kind of get sidetracked there,” Brooke admitted. “It was more about sexuality. I mean, orientation. Like, my mom was bi or something, and you…?”

“Unlabeled,” Julie said. “I suppose I’m gay. There was never anyone else but Vera, so it’s hard to say. She was the love of my life. But men never interested me, so I guess it’s a safe bet.”

Brooke already asked Lee this question. And though she felt that asking it now marked a point of no return, she decided to be brave, and spoke the words again: “How did you know?”

“Oh,” Julie said quietly, realizing, or perhaps just assuming. “Well… I never had an ounce of interest in anybody for the longest time. When all my friends started dating in middle and high school, I wrote it off as silly and just focused on studying. Until I met her. And things… just clicked. It was like the world suddenly made sense to me.” She let that rest a moment, before saying, “I’m sorry, I realize that may not be very helpful. Not everyone can get a bolt from the blue answer like that.”

“No, that does help a bit,” Brooke said. “So you didn’t always know. Did… did other people know before you did?”

After a second’s thought, Julie answered, “My advice there would be… don’t let anybody else’s thoughts about who you are, or who you should be, influence you one way or the other. This is the time of your life for discovery. The privilege and right to find yourself is yours and yours alone. It’s alright to question, and you’re certainly under no obligation to rush.”

For the first time in what felt like a while, Brooke cracked a small smile listening to that. “... I guess you’re right. It’s just hard feeling like everybody else has already figured out who they’re meant to be. I don’t like feeling like I’m lagging behind.”

“Whoever you end up being, Brooke, I promise you it will be someone amazing. Your mom would be so proud of you.”

Brooke let the warmth of that confidence rest in her chest for a moment, finally starting to feel like things might be okay. “... Thanks. Goodnight, Julie.”

“Goodnight, Brooke. Talk to you again soon.”

When the call hung up, Brooke braced her chin in her hand, her phone hanging loose in the other one as she pondered everything she had just talked about. Finally acknowledging the fact that she was really very tired, she set it aside and laid down again. This time, she closed her eyes.

Though the ceiling was still dark, there was still one star, burning bright in her mind’s eye, showing her the way:

Mom would be proud of me.

Chapter Text

Friday, February 14th 2014 [ Kate ]

The last bell rang, and Kate let out a breath she felt like she had been holding for seven hours. Finally. She shoveled her notepad into her bag, not wishing to waste a moment more.

“Remember to give some thought to your presentations over the long weekend, everyone!” the teacher called hastily from the front. It was sort of a futile gesture. Everybody was already moving, school the very last thing on their minds. Kate took the time to pass the teacher a slightly apologetic smile on her way out, even though she still hurried away just like the rest of them.

The hallways of Ss. Peter and Paul Lutheran School were more festively attired than usual. Red strings of bunting and pink hearts spangled doorways and cork boards, scraps of pink confetti visible at the feet of some of the lockers. Earlier that morning, grins and giggles had been everywhere as cards and letters were discovered slipped in the lockers’ grates. Now students bustled out of the building, eager to begin their weekend plans. Kate watched a boy furtively slip his hand into a girl’s grasp as they walked past, and she sighed softly at the sight.

Being at this school could be profoundly lonely. Starting late in the year and coming from a different town, her reception had been lukewarm at best, and she’d mostly passed beneath the notice of her new classmates. As the weeks went by and rumors about what happened to her in Arcadia Bay began to go around, she found that she preferred the anonymity. Those who didn’t look at her with pity or derision peppered her with questions.

So far, she had steadfastly refused to answer any of them. It was probably better that way. They would lose interest eventually.

She hoped.

Perhaps because of this isolating experience, she watched the young couples going happily along today with a trace of envy. There was only one person whom she wanted to be her Valentine, and she wasn’t here.

Shutting her eyes, Kate took a deep breath, tried to forget what she’d just thought, and focused on the positives. After all, she had special plans for the weekend – waiting for her just outside the building, in fact.

When she opened her eyes, she smiled, held her back straight, and got to walking. This place might be her prison until June, but for the next three days, she was free.

Kate knew to look for a yellow pickup truck on its very last legs when she emerged at the driveway that was meant for pick-up and drop-off. Oddly, she couldn’t see it anywhere. Still, a flash of color, vibrant as a blue jay’s wings, guided her eye to the right place. Chloe was leaning on the side of a green Honda minivan, her arms boredly crossed as she scanned the crowd. The sight of a tatted-up punk standing around bold as brass was drawing dropped jaws and stares from the students and parents going by.

Beside her, completely avoiding notice thanks to Chloe’s presence – which was, no doubt, to her preference – Max was tapping on her phone, tongue slightly poked out in concentration.

Neither of them had noticed her yet. Kate was pretty good at going unnoticed, after all, which presented an opportunity for a small prank. Blending with a small group of students, Kate kept walking until she was on the asphalt on the other side of the minivan. Then, stepping around from behind, she gave Max’s shoulder a light tap. “Looking for me?”

Max squeaked and juggled her phone between her hands when it slipped free. “Kate!”

Chloe jolted a little at the sound, then laughed in disbelief. “Holy shit! They should put a bell on you. Killer stealth mode, Marshmallow.”

Grinning with glee, Kate embraced a now recovering Max, who laughed self-deprecatingly as she patted Kate’s back and said, “It’s so good to see you again!”

“You too, Max,” Kate replied, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ve really, really missed you.”

She saw Chloe feigning disinterest and rocking on her shoes, her arms crossed behind her. Kate smiled tolerantly and said, “It’s good to see you too, Chloe,” before going over to hug her as well. Chloe accepted it gratefully, her long arms wrapping tight around her. Kate would normally find the smell of tobacco and cheap cologne unpleasant, but by association it, like Chloe, was a welcome change of pace from the stuffy air of the school.

“Right back at you, Kate,” Chloe said when they parted, pretending not to be affected by Kate’s words. Her eyes raked over the distrustfully staring students as they passed the reconvening trio. “... Super cheery place you’ve got here. Do the floggings take place before class or after?”

“Chloe,” Max groaned.

The joke got a tiny smirk out of Kate, but she shook her head. “School’s the last thing I want to talk about right now, really. I’m looking forward to the weekend! How was the ride down from Seattle?” Another perplexed glance at the vehicle in front of her. “I thought you were bringing the truck?”

“My poor baby!” Chloe lamented with an over dramatic sigh, thunking her fist against the forest green chassis of the van. “It crapped out ten miles into the trip and we had to turn around and bring Auntie Van’s, uh, auntie van instead.”

“Oh no! Do you think you’ll be able to fix it when you get back?”

Chloe shook her head sadly. “The exhaust and transmission are both pretty much toast. Even scrounging for parts, it’s just not worth the upkeep anymore. I think that was the old girl’s last ride. I’ll get all my little treasures out of there and organize a Viking funeral when we go home.”

“Treasures?” Max had been giving Chloe a comforting pat on the arm, but clearly couldn’t resist interjecting. “Chloe, I’m convinced some of those cigarette butts in there are older than you are.”

“Hey, me and those cigarette butts have been through a lot!”

“We all have,” Max said with a small laugh. Kate studied her quietly. Having not seen Max in person since that day she visited the hospital, she was struck by the difference in her. Sure, she looked mostly the same – maybe she was wearing her hair a little differently, her bob a little shaggier – but there was something about her demeanor. She seemed… older somehow. More tired.

Her blue eyes were still bright with curiosity when they turned, catching Kate staring at her. “Something wrong?”

“No! Not at all. I’m just… eager to spend some time with the two of you again. We have three whole days.”

“Woo, Presidents’ Day!” Chloe whooped. “Good on those presidents for, uh…” Her shoulders bobbed in a careless shrug. “Being born? I guess? Confusing holiday.”

“But it does conveniently give us a three-day weekend halfway between Christmas and Easter,” Max pointed out. “So, should we get moving? I don’t know how far it is to Brooke’s school…”

“Not very far, thankfully,” Kate said, fixing her bag strap and offering them both a gentle smile. “Let’s not keep her waiting.”

After a short but pleasant ride over to Lincoln City, the scene repeated itself as the van pulled into the parking lot. Brooke was already waiting outside the building which hosted her school, standing under the eaves. Kate spotted her and watched as she caught sight of the van, perked up, and started to walk over.

Of course, Brooke should not have had any idea that this was Max and Chloe’s ride. Did you look into the future to see how long you’d have to wait? Amused despite herself, Kate smiled. She had just seen Brooke that morning, but catching sight of her across the parking lot was already lifting her spirits all over again.

Chloe and Max spotted Brooke a second after she did and got out, Kate following suit. Brooke’s face broke into a little grin as she closed the distance. “Well, look who drifted into town. What’s the story with the new ride?”

Chloe played it up, whimpering and wiping a fake tear, but Max just said, “It’s a bit of a sore spot right now.” Then she shook her head and stepped up to Brooke to offer her a hug. Brooke returned it in her usual endearingly awkward fashion. “Good to see you again.”

“You too, Caulfield. It’s just not the same without you around.”

Chloe sniffed indignantly. “What, no hug for me, Ensign?”

Brooke responded by parting from Max, stepping over and tapping Chloe on the arm with her fist, making her rock in place and snicker in amusement. “And of course I barely survived without you, Chloe. Your roots are showing, by the way.”

“Hey, your dye is fading, too!” Chloe retorted, sweeping her hand back through her hair, where some strawberry blonde was starting to fade in. “Just too lazy for the upkeep right now. I’ll reapply a bottle of blue eventually, I guess.” Then, with a bit more genuine feeling, she added, “Good to see you, Scotty.”

While Brooke smiled at that, Kate more or less ambushed her and pulled her into a tight hug. Brooke returned it, laughing sheepishly.

“Didn’t I just see you earlier, Kate?”

While still hugging, Kate saw Chloe’s and Max’s reactions behind Brooke’s back. Max was half-hiding her mouth behind her hand to badly conceal a smile, while Chloe made a heart with her fingers. Kate squinted at the both of them as she told Brooke, “Yes, but it doesn’t matter. You get a hug anyway.”

Brooke didn’t seem to mind. She was smiling when the hug broke, Kate’s hands still on her arms. “You seem pretty excited.”

“Well, of course. The four of us have never had a chance to all hang out together in person before.”

“That is kind of funny if you think about it,” Chloe remarked. “Texts aren’t a substitute for the real thing, I guess. Should we get started?”

“Don’t worry, I speak Chloe,” Max said, sly. “Translation: she wants to get something to eat.”

“My hunger is a great and dire one! Feed me!”

“That means she’s a huge sap and might start crying with joy over the reunion if she’s not distracted by food in front of her soon,” Max pronounced with mock-solemnity. For her trouble, the taller girl put her in a headlock and noogied her in retaliation, Max’s plaintive protests accompanied by Kate’s and Brooke’s laughter.

Soon enough, the four of them had an ocean view to one side, soda cups in hand, and food on the way. Kate had never actually been to this diner on the beachfront; all the fishing-themed decor, the tacky ornaments, giant lures and fake trophies gave her the distinct impression that they were mostly trying to pull in tourists. Still, she couldn’t help but find the kitsch charming.

On the way over, Brooke had mentioned in passing that she visited this place already when she was applying for jobs a few months earlier. While Kate wasn’t sure Brooke belonged waiting tables, the mental image was still pretty funny. There was no way she could resist snarking at customers.

She understood why Brooke had to hold down a job on top of her heavy school workload, since the issues with her inheritance still hadn’t fully been resolved, but she wished that Brooke didn’t have to work herself to the bone.

Not just because she was seeing less of her than she did before. Be still, treacherous thoughts…

If it was getting Brooke down at all, she at least wasn’t showing any sign of it right now, laughing along with Chloe’s account of the minivan fiasco.

“... But Steph wasn’t answering my calls, so with little other choice…!” Chloe ended the dramatic pause with a sharp exhale. “The Mom-Mobile rides again!”

“Sad!” Brooke chimed, a wicked glint arising in her eye. “It’s never too early to accept middle age gracefully, Chloe. Maybe your next bottle of dye should be gray…?”

Chloe flicked the balled-up wrapper from her straw at Brooke. It plinked off her forehead, making her blink, and landed in her Sprite.

Kate smiled around her own straw as she sipped her iced tea, but she took advantage of the pause caused by the attack to put her drink down and get a word in edgewise with Max. “So, how’s school going so far?”

“It’s alright,” Max offered, shrugging. “I’m not super in love with the place, but there haven’t been any problems. Really I’m just looking forward to graduation so I can make some sense of what to do with my life.”

“That goes for both of us,” Brooke mumbled as she fished the soggy wrapper out of her drink.

“There’s a bit of that going around,” Kate noted with a little smile. “Have you applied for any colleges yet?”

A meaningful glance was exchanged between Max and Chloe. Max eventually replied, “I think I’m pretty set on a gap year, actually. Chloe and I both need a bit of time to just… enjoy life and not worry about work or school for a while.”

That got Brooke’s attention again, and she looked at the two of them curiously. “... Well, I definitely get that. Wish I could do the same thing.”

Kate turned to Brooke. “You already applied for some schools, right…?”

“Yeah,” Brooke answered quietly, not quite meeting her eyes. “I heard back from Johns Hopkins and Carnegie Mellon, a few others too. I got accepted, but I’m still deciding where exactly to go.”

“Wow,” Kate managed to reply, though her mind swam with the sobering possibility of Brooke going off to one of those schools way out east and all but disappearing out of her life. She tried to tamp it down again and remain in the present moment, but it wasn’t easy, and someone else took over the silence she drew out.

“You’ll knock ‘em dead, Brooke,” Chloe opined with a small grin. “You handled Mark Jefferson’s bitch ass. No Ivy League school is going to get the best of you.”

“Neither of those is Ivy League,” Brooke started to say, before she reined in her tendencies. “Uh, but, thanks. I appreciate the confidence.”

Then the waiter came by with four plates, and there was much rejoicing. The smell of fried fish and chicken wafted through the air as the conversation abated in favor of eating. Kate was equal parts amused and horrified by the way Chloe destroyed her sandwich. When she caught the fond look in Max’s eye at the sight, Kate giggled under her breath and pretended not to notice.

Inevitably, the lunches came down to the last scraps, and the talking was allowed to resume. “So,” Chloe said as she toyed with the burnt end of a french fry. “Did you get your Prescott check yet, Kate?”

“Her what?” Brooke blurted, before looking at Kate with a blink, totally lost. “... Your what?”

Oh, dear… Kate rubbed the back of her neck, dismayed. “Ah… I didn’t mention it to you yet. But, yes, it arrived in the mail last week.” She looked more fully toward Brooke in order to explain. “It’s Kristine Prescott. I guess she found out that Chloe and I were both drugged by Nathan, so she… sent us some money.”

“Some money,” Max repeated, shaking her head slowly. “More like a small fortune. My jaw dropped when I read it over Chloe’s shoulder…”

“Is this hush money or something?” Brooke’s expression was narrow and guarded, like it was any time the Prescotts were mentioned. Kate sighed and shook her head.

“More of an apology for her family being… her family, I think,” she said delicately. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away, Brooke. I know you get upset when the whole drugging thing comes up. And I sort of wanted to keep it on the down low. If my mom figured out I got all that money out of nowhere…”

Brooke’s face softened in understanding. “Hey, it’s your money, Kate. You don’t need to justify it to me.” A pleased look replaced that after a moment. “This is good, right? You’ll have an easier time being independent. I mean, if that’s what you want.”

“We’ll see,” Kate demurred, though she joined Brooke in smiling, unable to resist the positivity in her friend’s expression. “I guess I’m still working out what I want to do, myself.”

“Good on you, Katydid,” Chloe said, beaming. “As for us, we’re totally buying an RV.”

“We’re thinking of buying an RV,” Max cut in.

“We’re going to cross America,” Chloe continued blithely. “Seattle and Arcadia Bay, eat our dust!”

“I do like the idea,” Max was forced to admit by Chloe’s rampant optimism. “So, hey. It might become a reality.” She spaced out a bit, toying with a bit of doe-brown hair around her finger. “Getting a chance to take some shots of the Grand Canyon would be pretty awesome…”

“I hope it works out that way,” Kate assured them, charmed by the notion of her two dear friends finding themselves on this road trip – and each other, ideally. Those lingering looks were truly painful to behold.

“Totally. You two should have fun.” Brooke leaned forward after offering the agreement, swirling her straw in what remained of her drink with a small roll of her eyes. “Just don’t slow down here. After a few more months of putting up with this place, Kate and I just might be tempted to stow away.”

Kate laughed along with the others. But as she met Brooke’s thoughtful gaze, she had to wonder if they were pondering the same thing…

Chapter Text

Saturday, February 15th 2014 [ Brooke ]

On the morning of Max and Chloe’s second day in Lincoln City, Brooke and Kate picked them up at the hotel they were staying at and drove them east in Richard’s car. Coastal streets and hills receded behind them as they followed the county roads into Siuslaw National Forest, leaving civilization behind for verdant wilderness.

When they eventually pulled off the road to park in a lot marked by a sign that looked like it hadn’t changed since the fifties, they found themselves at a trail head. Hiking had been Brooke’s idea first, but one enthusiastically endorsed by Max. “I’ve been dying to get out in nature again,” she had exclaimed when Brooke brought it up the previous evening. “Cityscapes do nothing for me creatively. No matter how long I live in Seattle, I’m still such a small town girl where it counts.”

Chloe and Kate had proved open to it as long as Brooke and Max were excited, and so here they were. It was a good day for it, in the event. Although it was overcast, the temperature was in the fifties, despite which there was really nobody out here as there would be in the spring or summer. With boots laced up and water bottles handy, they were ready to enjoy a private nature walk.

“It’s gorgeous out here,” Max breathed, shading her eyes with her hands as she gazed up toward the soaring canopy above. Her Polaroid camera jostled on its strap around her neck as she walked, as if jumping for the chance at action. Just behind her, Kate had a sketchpad tucked under an arm, also smiling appreciatively at the scenery. There was a small skip in her step.

“It almost doesn’t feel like winter,” Chloe said from the lead of the pack, arms crossed behind her head. “And not just because of the weather. Everything’s still all green.”

“Shout out to conifers for evolving a waxy covering on their leaves to conserve water through the winter,” Brooke chimed in from right behind Chloe, unable to resist a chance to inject some scientific knowledge.

Chloe shot her an amused look. “Nerrrrd…”

“Oh, whatever, Starfleet captain.”

The group proceeded beneath the awesome shadows of the firs and pines for about a mile and a half before finding this particular trail’s best selling point. The trees parted to make way for a chasm where a creek ran through the forest, surrounded by towering mossy cliffs. From among the tall trees on the other side, as if appearing out of some underworld haunt, white water streamed down the dark stones in a dramatic waterfall sixty feet high. Its roar joined with the sound of a now rising breeze in a hush of natural white noise which kept the four of them rather silent for a moment as they took it all in.

“Wowsers,” Max expressed eloquently.

“You can say that again,” Brooke quietly agreed. “But, um… about that bridge?”

As beautiful as the sight was, she found herself nervously scoping out what lay between them and the other side of the gorge. It was a suspension bridge, and while Brooke always loved a good suspension bridge, marvels of human ingenuity that they were, this one must have been about a hundred feet off the ground.

“What about it?” Kate asked, blinking in concern.

“Isn’t it a bit… narrow?”

That it was. They’d be challenged to go two abreast on that thing. It also looked like it was… swaying a bit.

A bit disbelieving, Chloe turned to Brooke and asked, “Are you scared of heights?”

“What? No!”

Maybe a bit. Being up in a plane had been fine, the few times she’d done it, and little Brooke had enjoyed watching the countryside recede below her like a tableau from a playroom mat. But something about being on a narrow bridge this high up, especially a moving one – even if she knew, intellectually, that it could probably bear a few hundred thousand pounds – was setting off her anxiety a bit.

Perhaps seeing through the fib, Chloe rolled her eyes and started walking again. “Alright, I’m keeping point position anyway. Just stare at my beautiful backside to keep your morale up.”

Brooke scoffed, but did indeed keep her eyes glued to the back of Chloe’s beanie. As long as she kept her hands on the side railing and didn’t look down, she was fine. Nature had other plans, though; a harsh gust caught her halfway through the journey across the bridge. Her ponytail whipped around and thwapped her in the face, causing her to sputter in dismay and try to get it out of her mouth. “Ugh!”

“You okay?” Chloe asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Stupid wind. Stupid hair.”

“It’s grown out a bit,” she noted. “You need a haircut, girl.”

It was meant in good spirits, but having it pointed out made Brooke feel a bit embarrassed. She hadn’t had a haircut since October, and the long and untidy look of it had started to bother her. She’d just been too busy to do anything about it. “I swear I’m gonna chop it all off,” she grumbled to herself.

Perhaps sympathetic to her plight, Max and Kate only dawdled behind her long enough for Max to snap a couple of pictures from the vantage of the bridge. They’d crossed it soon enough and took a turn to follow the path down toward the creek at the bottom of the gorge.

“The falls used to look completely different,” Kate remarked as they got closer to the bottom, gesturing at the toppled pillars of basalt in the pool beneath the crashing water. “But there was a collapse a couple of years ago.”

“Have you walked back here a lot?” Brooke asked, recovering from her ordeal.

“A few times. There are a lot of nice nature trails and hiking spots in the area, but admittedly I’m not the most outdoorsy girl.”

“The hiking boots and flannel are a hella cute look on you though,” Chloe opined.

Brooke felt a little twist of jealousy for… some reason. While she was doing that, Kate stopped a second to pivot on one of her boots and turn to show where the flannel, a bit too big on her, was tied in the back. “Thanks, Chloe! The flannel is Brooke’s, actually. She let me borrow it for the day.”

Kate flashed Brooke a grateful smile there, and what was Brooke annoyed about again? She’d forgotten, suddenly.

Max breathed out a small laugh as she brushed past the three of them to scurry ahead, her camera already in hand. “Catch me when the fashion review is over!” They had just reached the foot of the path, so Max bustled up to the fallen rocks by the creekside and started to take in the view, looking for a good vantage.

Kate wasn’t far behind her, grinning from ear to ear as she went to find a good spot of her own, no doubt within an arm’s reach of Max. Now that the two were reunited, it was easy for Brooke to see the closeness between them, how easily they got along. Those tea dates back at Blackwell really must have really been something.

Left in the dust by their artistically inclined companions, Brooke and Chloe settled in to watch. Brooke clambered her way onto a large rock to sit there, Chloe crossing her arms and leaning back against its side.

For a moment, Brooke just enjoyed the slightly diminished breeze, the smell of fresh water, the singing of birds deeper in the forest. The faint sounds of Max and Kate chattering excitedly with each other brought a small smile to her face. When she opened her eyes again, she noted that Chloe was being uncharacteristically quiet, and she spared her a glance. It looked like she was allowing herself a dopey, absent smile of her own, so Brooke followed her line of sight to see why.

It appeared that Max had found a spot that was to her liking. She was standing poised atop a large, flat boulder, her mousy brown hair ruffled slightly by the moving air from the waterfall, snapping picture after picture. She cut a pretty inspiring figure in full photographer mode. But something told Brooke that Chloe was enjoying the sight a good deal more.

“Okay,” Brooke said, breaking the silence. “So – no teasing. No bullshit. Just being straightforward with you… one friend to another.” She raised her eyebrows. “Have you told her?”

“Huh?” Chloe’s face scrunched in confusion as she glanced at Brooke, the lovestruck look vanishing.

“How you feel about her.”

That had Chloe’s full attention. Her eyebrows shot up, her pale complexion pinkening. “How I – I don’t–!”

“Dude.”

The other girl’s shoulders slumped in defeat, her head tilting back so she could sigh at the world at large, arms unfolding to lay flat at her sides. “Christ,” she uttered, a weary sigh on her lips. “I… I don’t know how.”

“You could always try just blurting it out?”

Chloe passed a gimlet eye her way. “You’d think, right? I’m the world champion of blurting shit out. I spill the beans with the best of ‘em. But this… this is different, man. Max is…” Her voice was softer, more vulnerable than Brooke had ever heard it. “She’s my best friend. My first mate. She’s literally everything to me. I wouldn’t ruin what we have by being selfish like that. It would kill me.”

“It’s not selfish,” Brooke disagreed. “Love isn’t selfish. It’s patient and kind, or so the Marshes have drilled into my head…”

Chloe snorted. “I got so used to having no one to look out for me but myself. I’m not sure I have an unselfish motive left in my body.” She paused to kick a rock before continuing. “It just feels like I want too much. Like… this feeling is too big to handle. For either of us. And things are still so complicated…”

These sure were a bunch of excuses that Brooke was hearing. But she could understand the central thesis well enough: Chloe was scared. It was a state which Brooke was intimately familiar with.

She perceived several perfectly logical counter arguments here, not least of which being the fact that Max was plainly, obviously, wretchedly besotted with Chloe right back. Would it violate some kind of lesbian prime directive for her just to point it out, though? Maybe she’d better take a page from Kate’s book and try to be sort of subtle about it.

“Okay… I get you. But look at it this way. What if it was Max in your position?”

Chloe gave her another searching, puzzled look, but didn’t interrupt.

“If it was Max who was totally in lesbians with you and was kicking herself about how to tell you… and let’s say in this scenario you didn’t feel the same way… would it change even a little bit the bond you already have with her?”

“Well,” Chloe’s gaze dipped, contemplative. “No. Of course not.”

“Max isn’t going to leave you,” Brooke offered gently. “Whenever you feel ready to say it to her, I’m sure it’ll go fine.”

That drew a soft sigh out of the other girl, who returned the favor with a small, grateful smile. “I hope you’re right. Thanks, Brooke.”

“Naturally,” Brooke said, pleased that she’d passed her persuasion check. But, since she couldn’t resist: “Besides, you two are buying an RV together. That’s practically married with kids.”

Chloe barked out a surprised laugh, her arms returning to their previous, habitual posture, tucked defiantly in crossed position. “Okay, smartass. If it’s time for us to grill each other, then how about you and Kate?”

Brooke leaned back with a blink, finding herself flat footed by the seeming non sequitur. “Me and Kate? What do you mean?”

“Ah, come on, you know what I mean,” Chloe pressed, before stopping and mumbling to herself. “Shit, did I violate the prime directive?”

“There is a–? Never mind. Explain.”

“Right, in for a penny, sorry. Isn’t your situation with Kate kind of exactly the same thing?”

“No!” Brooke waved her hands in protest, a bit frantic. Where on earth was Chloe getting this idea from? “Come on, we’re just friends. It’s not like we’ve been welded at the hip since childhood like you and Max, either. We barely knew each other until last year…”

“As if that was ever a requirement,” Chloe said, unimpressed with Brooke’s logic. “Look, I’m kind of experienced in the field of lesbinomics…”

‘Lesbinomics?’ Brooke mouthed in bafflement, but found no room to interrupt Chloe’s rant.

“... And you should trust my expertise. She’s the most important person in your life, right?” Chloe put up a finger, as if starting a count.

There were a number of people that Brooke cared about and whose company she prized. Quite a turnabout from where she was just a year before, on reflection. But it was without question that of all of these, the one whose company she enjoyed the most – the one she feared losing the most – was Kate.

“I guess,” Brooke admitted, her voice a plaintive mumble. Then a little more audibly, “But that’s just– we bonded through those traumatic experiences, if it weren’t for that, maybe we wouldn’t–”

Heedless, Chloe put up another finger. “And if she was ever in trouble or needed something, you’d drop just about anything to help her, right?”

Several examples of Brooke doing just that popped into her mind. Her cheeks were starting to get hot. “That’s what best friends do, isn’t it?”

A third finger. “And you have trouble imagining a future without her, right?”

Brooke had been having a lot of trouble doing so lately. Was Chloe reading her fucking mind? Perhaps more crucially, did she have some kind of point after all? She felt a little twist of anxiety in her gut. “... I mean, if we go to different colleges, I’ll kind of have to…”

“And, follow me here now, Scotty, this is the really important bit…” One last, expectant finger was raised. “Everything I just said is true for Kate, too.” Chloe flashed a knowing grin. “Right?”

Brooke’s mind stumbled over that one. Looking at it objectively, she had to acknowledge that Kate already took tons of time and emotional effort for her sake. She never seemed upset doing it, either. She was always there with an understanding smile, and a kind word, and a…

… A kiss on the cheek, on New Years’ Eve.

You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Kate’s voice whispered.

The only counterpoint Brooke could find was a very weak one indeed. Her shoulders were slumped a little as she stared at the creek gravel below. “Kate’s not… She doesn’t like girls.”

Weak, perhaps, because she very pointedly didn’t make this assertion about herself. Chloe probably noticed, but had the courtesy to look sympathetic instead of mocking.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. She looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. For all you know, she’s questioning, or open, or… flexible. I dunno. But I know there’s something there. On your part, hers, whatever. My point is…” She took a breath, fixing Brooke with a serious look. “Don’t blow this off. You’re my friends. Some of… my only few friends. I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”

Looking down the creek away from Chloe, Brooke saw Kate, sitting on a rock just a few feet from Max. She was lost in her own little world, gaze lowered in that adorably focused way of hers as she concentrated on capturing the scene before her in graphite. She was smiling. Dressed in one of Brooke’s shirts and enjoying the presence of dear friends and nature, she seemed so different. So happy. So… free. Feeling welled up in Brooke’s heart as she thought that, hopelessly captivated by the sight.

Things just clicked, Julie had said to her. The world suddenly made sense to me.

Chloe patted Brooke comfortingly on the arm, then pushed off the rock, hands slung into her pockets as she swaggered her way over to the other two to give her some space.

Oh, man, Brooke finally thought once it was possible to stick words together again. A fear of heights had nothing on this. I’m in trouble.

Chapter Text

Monday, February 17th 2014 [ Kate ]

The last three days had been magical for Kate. Liberated from the stifling confines of her school, spending most of her time out of the house with nothing but dear friends for company, she felt better than she had in months. It was as if she was awake again after a very long sleep.

She supposed she had to acknowledge that her depression had been weighing on her more than she thought. It was most noticeable when it abated like this and she felt ten times lighter. Smiling, having fun, heck – even walking and breathing were just so much easier. She’d been making the most of it by enjoying each day to the fullest.

On Sunday, the four of them had all gone to see the new LEGO movie, which Kate adored to an absurd degree. They got milkshakes after, and even met up with a couple of Brooke’s new school friends. They were certainly a colorful duo; Lee and Chloe seemed like kindred spirits, and that Sierra girl was the rare sort who could keep up with Brooke’s razor wit, trading barbs and off-color jokes. She did have kind of an intense stare, though, and seemed to favor Kate with it more than the others…

Overall, the experience had been wonderful, but as the long weekend now dwindled down to its last hours, Kate felt her anxiety rise. Would it just be back to the same crushing dreariness when Max and Chloe were gone? Would the bars of that cage rise up around her again?

No, she told herself. Brooke would still be here, her one bright spark who led her through these difficult months. She wasn’t going anywhere.

… Though she had noticed that Brooke hadn’t quite been herself ever since Saturday morning. At first Kate had chalked it up to rattled nerves from going forward and back across that bridge, but when it persisted, she began to wonder. Brooke was being a little quieter than usual, more flighty. She appeared to have lapsed and gotten worse at making eye contact with Kate again.

This, too, weighed on her mind.

But Kate knew that she shouldn’t waste her remaining time with Max and Chloe by worrying about what would happen when it was over. It was important to live in the present.

That was proving a little difficult when the present moment was so very awkward.

“And what is it you do for a living, Chloe?” her mother was asking, the only outward sign of her irritation the constant turning of her fork in her hand.

Undaunted by the older woman’s dislike, Chloe separated her peas from her potatoes on her plate as she responded. “I’m working at a car mechanic shop at the moment, saving up while I work out a plan to get my GED. As for the long term, who knows? I could do anything.”

“Anything at all? How… ambitious.”

Kate could have seen this friction coming from a mile away, frankly, but her dad remained an eternal optimist. When he learned that two of the girls responsible for exposing Jefferson and Nathan were in town, he had insisted they stop by the house to meet the family and enjoy a nice dinner. He still looked to be in high spirits, taking no notice of Mom’s sour mood. As usual.

“You’re still young,” he said, “and your future’s an open book. I have no doubt you’re right.”

Without his ability to keep a smiling face on, Kate’s sisters were responding to the tension in the air in their own ways. Grace’s brow was creased, her head turning there and back again like the conversation she was watching was a particularly fraught tennis match. Lynn just played with her food, not looking anyone in the face.

Brooke was glaring into her glass of water, still and silent.

Such a welcoming atmosphere her mother provided.

Breathe, Kate, she thought as she poked her steak with her knife, drawing a bit of red from within. Breathe.

Unlike the Marsh girls, who were all awkwardly silent, or Chloe and Kate’s dad, who were pretending everything was fine, Max didn’t stand idly by and took it upon herself to defend her best friend’s honor. Of course, ever the peacemaker, she did it in her own, plausibly polite way.

“She’s barely exaggerating. Chloe’s kind of a jack of all trades. Drawing, writing, fixing things. She’s both one of the handiest and most creative people I know.”

“Oh stop,” Chloe said with a grin. “But do go on.”

“She didn’t mention your stint in theater,” Brooke slyly remarked, ending her silence as soon as she saw a chance for mischief.

Kate breathed out a small laugh, smiling despite herself. “I almost forgot about that.”

“Her what?” Max laughed, too, more disbelieving.

“Et tu, Scotty?” Chloe grumbled.

All the while, Lynn had finally lifted her head, eyes suddenly bright again. “You were in a play? Which one?”

Whatever embarrassment Chloe felt was stowed away in the face of the young girl’s enthusiasm. She smiled crookedly. “The Tempest, by Shakespeare. I played Ariel.”

“Oh my gosh, I love that one!” Lynn exclaimed. “Ariel’s a boy, though?”

“So was Prospero, but it was kind of a non-traditional version of the play…”

“Cool!” Lynn chirped, not noticing her mom’s glower. “What was it like? How many shows did you do?”

“Once was enough for me,” Chloe said, her expression sheepish. “I’m not really a born actor. I was shaking and trying my best not to flub my lines. Still, it was a little bit fun at least. I got through it thanks to my…” Side eyeing Mom. “... my friend’s confidence that I could leech off of.”

Then Chloe’s eyes swung Brooke’s way, revenge on the mind. “Brooke should know more about show biz than me! She was on the technical crew for, like, a hundred Blackwell plays.”

This made Lynn gasp, of course. “Brooke, you didn’t mention that?!”

“It was a side gig,” Brooke insisted, scratching her cheek. “I didn’t pay much attention to the content of the plays or what the actors were doing. I was just the sound engineer for a couple of years.”

Lynn still huffed and gave her a fishy look for having withheld the fact, before her mind moved on and she started smiling again. “Maybe you could give it another try, Chloe? You never know…”

“We’ll see,” Chloe mumbled around a mouthful of food, wistful.

Obviously disliking that she’d lost control of that conversation, Mom turned her attention elsewhere. “Katie dear, did I mention that Mrs. Tremayne called asking about you earlier?”

Images of Jenny’s disgusted eyes in church flashed through Kate’s mind. She kept her face stony as she met her mom’s eye. “No, you didn’t. How is she?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Very interested in how you’re doing, of course. She wanted me to know that she’s starting a new Bible study group for Monday evenings, and it’s for girls your age. All about Biblical womanhood, and preparing for adult responsibilities.” She blinked her eyes once expressively, entreating. “I really think it would be a good experience for you. You’ll consider joining, won’t you?”

In other words, learning how to marry some man and bear him a brood of children, Kate thought. No thanks. But all her traitorous mouth could find the courage to say was, “Yes, mother.”

Her attention slipped in the direction of Brooke, who was looking herself again, thank goodness, but only because she appeared to be right on the verge of exploding and saying where Mrs. Tremayne could stick her opinions. But before anything could come of it, a clatter and a splash interrupted the exchange. All eyes turned toward Chloe.

“Aw, sh– cr– uh, geez– would you look at that. It’s all over my jacket.” A toppled gravy boat was the immediate cause, but Kate struggled to understand how Chloe could have tipped it over by accident to quite such dramatic effect.

As she put the pieces together, affection and exasperation both flashed warm within her. Chloe had made a scene to distract her mother; now she had pulled off the jacket, exposing her arms for the first time since dinner started, thus raising a convenient new topic.

“Whoa, that’s a lot of tattoos,” Grace breathed, raising her eyebrows.

“They look so neat,” Lynn added, just about vibrating in her seat. “Who designed them?”

“Actually, I did.”

The two youngest girls both chorused ‘wow!’, and even Kate’s dad gave the sleeve an appraising look. “By yourself? That’s really impressive, actually. Can I ask what the imagery represents?”

Mom was grinding her teeth, and while she did that, Max reached for and delicately took the sodden jacket from Chloe’s inattentive hand. “I’ll do something about the stain real quick,” she offered, already standing up.

“I’ll help,” Kate decided, sensing Max’s motive. They flashed each other a quick smile on the way out of the kitchen, before Kate thought to look over her shoulder and give Brooke an apologetic look. Brooke feebly smiled again, before averting her eyes, lost in thought. 

Sighing and trying to put her worries out of mind, Kate led Max to the laundry room.

“Don’t get me wrong, Kate, your dad and sisters are really nice,” Max said in a low voice as soon as they were out of earshot. “But your mom is… ugh!”

Kate sagged with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Max assured her as she dropped the jacket onto the top of the washing machine with a quiet thunk. “She gets under your skin any way she can. She treats Brooke like a leper. And the way she was talking to Chloe right then, I just…!”

Reaching for Max’s shoulder, Kate was rewarded by the feeling of her friend stilling, taking a breath, and calming down a bit. She reached for and put her hand on Kate’s in turn, looking back at her sadly. “How can you put up with this?”

“She wasn’t always this bad,” Kate said softly, her gaze dipping along Max’s chin, too self-conscious to bear the hurt in her normally gentle and affectionate eyes. “But lately, she’s–... It’s not Brooke’s fault, but…”

“I understand,” Max assured her, lifting Kate’s hand from her shoulder so she could squeeze it as she turned to fully face her. “Regardless of how, or why, or… whatever… Being here… She’s toxic, Kate. You need to get out of this place.”

A small, bitter smile rose to Kate’s face. How many times had she thought just that? “I’ve been dealing with her judgement since I was thirteen. What’s a couple more months?”

“You’re right,” Max sighed, “but you shouldn’t even have to deal with that … In a perfect world, I mean. I know things don’t work like that. I’m just… steamed up, sorry. You deserve better. Brooke deserves better. And your sisters deserve better too, but…”

“But they’re still stuck here for years to come,” Kate finished for her, wilting. “That’s the thing that really gets to me, Max. I can help them when I’m here. I can protect them. But when I… when I’m gone, they’ll…”

Kate only realized that her eyes had gone bleary with tears when Max wiped one away with her thumb and pulled her into a tight hug. Sniffling, Kate returned it with all the strength she could muster.

“You’ll work something out, Kate,” Max mumbled into her shoulder. “I know you will. You’re so strong, and smart.” Then with a little humor as she pulled away, “With your brainpower and Brooke’s combined, I don’t think there’s anything you can’t handle.”

Kate made a choked, teary laugh. “Gosh… Well, that’s assuming we stick together after graduation…”

Max gave Kate an ‘oh, come on’ sort of look. “Kate…”

“Obviously I want that, I just don’t want to get in her way. She’s going places in life, I know it, and I would be…”

“Kaaate. ”

Kate whined in protest. “I couldn’t ask that of her, Max. No matter how much I want to.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to ask,” Max said with a grin, giving Kate a pat before she turned to actually start cleaning the jacket like she said she would. “Brooke’s really changed, huh?”

So have you, Kate observed. But out loud, she just said, “She’s grown up.”

Rubbing her wrist and watching Max diligently work the gravy stain out of Chloe’s jacket, Kate found no further words to share. The minutes passed them by and were gone.

Not very long after, the four teens reconvened in the Marsh family driveway, Vanessa Caulfield’s green minivan sitting expectantly while they got their emotions out of their systems. Having checked out of the hotel a couple of hours before, Max and Chloe had loaded everything up in the trunk and were ready to make the long trek back to Seattle.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Kate told the both of them as the last of a lot of hugging finally finished up. “This weekend has been everything I hoped it would be.”

“No, thank you for having us,” Max chimed happily. “Dog knows we needed a change of routine.”

“That goes for all of us,” Kate answered with a chuckle. Her eyes went to Chloe, shy. “I owe you for distracting my mom back there. You’re amazing, Chloe…”

Chloe had her newly cleaned jacket slung over an elbow, the praise winning a somewhat flustered look from the usually confident girl. “Aw… Well, I’d do it for you any time, Katydid. Don’t sweat it.”

“I’m gonna miss you guys,” said Brooke, allowing herself a bit of vulnerability. A smile with a hopeful cast worked its way across her features. “We’ll see you again soon, alright?”

“You can bet on that,” Max answered firmly. “No matter the distance between us, we’re not going anywhere.”

With that and some final goodbyes, the two of them piled into the van, pulled out onto the road, and were driving off. Kate and Brooke watched them together until the fender had finally disappeared around the last bend, then looked at each other.

“You gonna be okay?” Brooke asked.

“I will,” Kate tried to reassure her. Her eyes searched Brooke. Had she just been waiting to talk to Kate alone about whatever was bothering her? Would she say something now that the others were gone? “Will you be?”

“I’ll be fine,” Brooke said, smiling weakly, then looking away. She bobbed her head toward the house and walked in, Kate lingering behind for just a moment longer, still absent some answers.

She’s grown up, she thought to herself again. I just hope she’s not growing away from me, too.

Chapter Text

Wednesday, March 12th 2014 [ Brooke ]

A digital press, an analog click. The sound of a drone’s propellers buzzing to life. A mechanical shape rising steadily into the air.

Brooke sighed happily, back in the skies for the first time in months. A cold January and a windy February had not presented any chances to fly a drone, but with winter’s last days fading into spring, the balmy weather had finally given her a window of opportunity.

Of course, the school’s drones were a bit older and a lot less fancy than the one she’d lost in Arcadia Bay, but Brooke guessed she couldn’t complain. For the first time since all of this happened, she felt like order had been restored. She was back where she belonged.

The shape rising into the air wasn’t a solitary one. A half dozen more rose a second later, like a flock of strange birds, all hovering over the meadow. Their flight was far from synchronized; a couple wobbled unevenly, and there was no flight formation to speak of. She guessed that was the best they could expect.

“Alright, eyes on the skies, people,” announced Mrs. Bianchi, the instructor for the Pacific Northwest Drone Academy program. A gruff-voiced woman with cropped brown hair and a no-nonsense attitude, some of how she carried herself reminded Brooke a bit of Mr. Madsen. Just perhaps a little less fashy. “We’re going to try to log some flight hours for everyone before the rain rolls in later. Use the time to familiarize yourself with the software. Just be mindful of clearance! I don’t want to have to retrieve any equipment back from the treetops… again.”

The grumbled addendum got some giggles from a couple of students. Brooke just rolled her eyes and focused on gaining some more altitude for herself. She didn’t care for the idea of her baby getting scratches from bumping into other drones – even if the baby in question was merely adopted.

“Look at you go,” Brooke heard someone say beside her as her drone corkscrewed higher. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone push one of these things that high, that fast.”

She turned her head to look and saw Hakim, who was watching the machine go with raised brows. Out of their little group, he was the only one who was actually also enrolled in the Drone Academy program. So far he had come across as rather shy, certainly the least outspoken of the bunch. But he was nice, always willing to lend a hand with her homework, and certainly very intelligent. He even had the correct opinion about the best version of Battlestar Galactica.

(The remake, duh.)

… It struck Brooke as fortunate that some recent revelations had shifted her previous notions about dating. Based on past experience, he was exactly the sort of boy she would have been convinced she should be into, not so very long ago. Thank God they could just be friends.

Ignoring the awkward thought, Brooke flashed him a grin. Showing off? That she could definitely still do. “You’re not gonna catch up to me if you just stand there with a slack jaw.”

Laughing ruefully, Hakim shook his head and returned his attention to his tablet screen. “Not much luck of that either way. But here goes nothing.”

She watched as his drone angled and picked up a bit of speed to chase after hers. They were the same make and model, and with Brooke’s head start, he didn’t seem set to catch up. She zig-zagged a little to lose some of her lead and keep things fun. Soon they were zipping along side by side.

“How did you learn to fly like that anyway?” Hakim asked.

“I’ve been at this for a few years is all. It was my favorite hobby until I lost my drone. Now I’m finally back in the saddle again, and… well, I guess it’s like what they say about riding a bike.”

“Clearly. I think I’ll need to quiz you on some of your tricks.”

“Just watch and learn, my friend.”

The two of them set their minds on the race, paying not much attention at all to the other students as they got in the thick of it. Brooke, who was sort of operating on autopilot, was free to become preoccupied with whatever stray thoughts were sticking to her mind that day. In the moment, having just thought about losing her precious drone in the presumed wreck of Warren’s car, she was inevitably led back to thoughts of Warren himself.

Notwithstanding everything that had changed, all the time that passed, Brooke still missed him every day. Forget all the upheavals to their relationship that had marked the end of their time together; they had been friends for a few years before that, and she would even have gone so far as to call him her best friend, at least before Kate came along.

She missed his stupid sense of humor, the player two in her games, the sounding board for her every hypothesis and idea. They didn’t have to be boyfriend and girlfriend to keep that. She wished she had understood that at the time.

Mostly she wished she hadn’t gotten him killed.

Maybe Max was right that she shouldn’t blame herself. But if that was so, then why couldn’t she afford herself the same benefit of the doubt? Why did she still hate herself for it? When his family had held a funeral back in December, she hadn’t even found the bravery to drive up and attend it because the guilt was still destroying her. Some friend she was.

The revelation that she was literally clairvoyant all along just made it worse. She could predict the images on a phone screen but not the fact that one of her best friends was going to die? What sort of sense did that make? If there was a God after all, He was pretty adept at jerking Brooke around, that was for sure.

Brooke had thought about bringing this all up to Kate a few times. They’d cried together about Warren and their other departed friends a bit early on, but Brooke’s guilt, her continued self-loathing, were something she had kept to herself. She had never told anybody but Max, and it didn’t seem like there were any signs of that changing.

Why? Was she afraid that Kate would look at her differently if she told her what had been torturing her for all this time? Did she still fear people rejecting her that much?

It was Kate’s rejection in particular that she feared most of all. Thanks to a certain discussion with Chloe, Brooke was finally starting to understand why. They weren’t just friends, and hadn’t been for some time now. Going on what might as well be dates, continually expressing their devotion to each other, holding hands under the moonlight… Forced to take a step back and objectively analyze their behavior from someone else’s perspective, she had to admit that it was all… pretty damn gay.

She guessed everyone had been calling her a lesbian for a reason. Brooke wasn’t yet sure that she didn’t like boys at all, but she sure as hell liked girls. Well… one girl.

And unless she was denser than she thought, she was also pretty sure that the feelings didn’t just run one way. New Year’s Eve, with Kate’s whispered words and soft lips, was kind of conclusive on that point. She was pretty sure that was true, wine or no wine. Brooke was too intelligent not to put all the pieces together when given the proper perspective. It had just… taken her some time.

The real question was: now what? Happily ever after? Brooke’s life had given her no shortage of disappointing twists and turns. She wasn’t sure any such thing existed for her. Sure, Julie and her mom had made it work eventually, after a lot of loss and heartache, but they were the outliers. So many relationships just never made it that far.

Moreover, Kate was… the most amazing person Brooke had ever known. But her? She was just a know-it-all with anger management issues. A natural loner who lashed out at the world because she didn’t know what else to do. A supposed superhero who had let her friend die.

How could she ever, in a billion years, be good enough? Kate deserved someone better. Someone kinder. Just… someone else.

For all that the idea of Kate finding someone else made Brooke feel like she wanted to puke.

All things considered, it was a good thing she could fly a drone in her sleep. Otherwise she had no doubt she would have run into something before Hakim called her back to reality.

“Whoa, are you alright Brooke? You look… intense.”

She let out a puff of breath, finally slowing the drone down. Then she turned to him with a smile she didn’t feel. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about some stuff.” Brooke considered for a moment. He was pretty far removed from all this drama. Maybe he would see something she couldn’t? She’d just have to be vague to have some deniability. “... Hey. Have you ever–”

Crack-thoom.

Coastal Oregon’s first thunderclap in six months boomed low, rolling slowly in from the west. The bass rattled Brooke’s ears, her bones. Everyone looked up, expecting the heavens to open up on them.

“There wasn’t any lightning in the forecast,” Mrs. Bianchi grumbled. “Alright everyone, let’s ■■■ ■■■■■ ■■■■■■ ■■■■–”

That was odd, some part of Brooke absently noted. Where had the teacher’s voice gone off to? The rest of her was fixated on the sound of thunder, still roaring in her brain long after everyone else stopped hearing it. There was a storm coming. It came back. It came back for her.

Why were they all so damned calm? They needed to get to shelter now, but everyone was just standing around! They’d all be torn to shreds!

… Were those her hands shaking in front of her face? She couldn’t feel them. She could barely feel anything – her mind and body were a step out of sync, and she felt like she was floating somewhere far away. Monitoring, piloting maybe. Now her body was the drone, and Brooke was lost in space.

Absently, she noted that she was starting to break out in a sweat,  and her breath was arriving in shallow gulps. She couldn’t breathe – why couldn’t she breathe?

She staggered and was guided to sit on the grass by a firm arm. A shape loomed over her, but all she could see was dark clouds. There was a wall of death rolling in on her now. She could feel it looming too, just out of sight. It was so fucking close. Too close.

It took her several seconds to focus and realize that the static buzz was turning into actual voices again. Mrs. Bianchi’s concerned face was the first thing she recognized as the words faded into being. “... something. Can you hear me Brooke?”

“Oh, God,” Brooke groaned, a weak wheeze that made her voice crack. Her eyes looked around feverishly, seeing more terrified faces gazing down at her. Why were they all still here?

“That’s good,” Bianchi told Brooke, though she didn’t know why. “You’re having a panic attack, hon. You’re safe here.”

“My chest hurts,” she gasped, plaintive. “Oh, God. I think I’m dying…”

“You’re not dying, Brooke. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” Bianchi frowned. “Whatever you’re scared of, we aren’t going to let it get you.”

“Is it back?” Brooke asked, her voice breaking on a sob. “Please tell me it’s not back.”

The older woman’s expression softened, realizing. “The storm didn’t come back, Brooke. It’s not going to come back.” She tilted her head back, looking at someone. “Hakim, call the school, please. We need to head back early.”

“Y-yeah,” he said, just out of view. He sounded so worried. Everyone was worried, and they had to leave early all because of her.

“I’m sorry,” Brooke pleaded.

“It’s not your fault,” Bianchi assured her. “Come on. Let’s get you into the van.”

Once she was gently led into the school van and insulated from the weather that had triggered her panic attack, Brooke slowly recovered. Mrs. Bianchi had apparently been in the army and had dealt with this before. She sat with Brooke and kept her talking and focused until they made it back to the school. Once there, the nurse wrote her a note to send her home early.

Recommend counseling, the note clutched in her hand said, in brief. The nurse had been distressed to learn that Brooke was never assessed for anything after Arcadia Bay and had never seen a therapist. Just something that got lost in the chaos surrounding her hospitalization, she guessed, though she knew that didn’t explain why she had never gone to see a therapist afterward.

She had been so sure she could handle it on her own, that she could get away without adding yet another exhausting and humiliating chore to her seemingly endless list. She had school to worry about, work, her mom’s will, her relationships with other people. Did she have to add therapy on top of that? Why was she expected to make a display of her pain in front of some stranger, or else she wasn’t “taking care of herself”?

Brooke was stubborn. That had always been the case, and this sure wasn’t the first time it had bitten her. But after six months with no sign of anything like this, she had felt justified in her decision.

But then, at just one clap of thunder, she crumbled in front of everybody. Now the whole class knew that she was scared – terrified – of the infamous storm which had destroyed her hometown. She couldn’t handle stormy weather anymore. They’d think she was crazy after seeing her first panic attack. There was no coming back from that.

When Richard had brought her home, his face taut with worry, she had still been a little too shaky to get up the stairs safely. Instead she’d been offered the couch by the window in his home office and some space to herself. Her head was leaned against the window, barely watching the raindrops drumming against it, a blanket drawn over her legs.

The note was getting crinkled in her hand. She had kept it close, jealously guarding it from any prying eyes, real or imagined. She didn’t want anybody else to see what it said about how broken she was.

As if they couldn’t tell.

Elsewhere in the house, the front door flung open, a rare sign of animation in this listless moment. Brooke slowly turned her head, just in time to see a slightly soaked Kate bustle into the room. Her hazel eyes were wide and fearful, putting Brooke in mind of a scared rabbit.

“Kate,” she said weakly, about to warn her off. She should have known better, of course. A second later she was being crushed in one of her trademark hugs.

“You–” Brooke mumbled against a faceful of drenched hair. “Your school doesn’t let out for another hour…”

“Medical emergency at home,” she answered defiantly, even though her voice quavered. “I was excused.”

“God, Kate–” Brooke could only choke the words out, her eyes already welling up. Then she felt Kate’s hand in her hair, soothing.

“You don’t have to say anything,” the blonde whispered. “Anything at all.”

Whatever barrier Brooke hoped to put up for herself shattered instantly, and the bawling began. God dammit, how was she supposed to avoid falling for Kate when she treated her like this? Any protests died in her throat long before they could be spoken as she clung to Kate for dear life.

Kate allowed Brooke to cry on her shoulder for what felt like a pretty long time. All the while she kept peacefully still, no matter how uncomfortable she must have been with her cardigan soaked through from the rain. Brooke didn’t pay the dampness much mind, either. Kate’s warmth and care was unchanged. Still, she eventually pulled herself away, wiping under her eyes and along her cheeks. “I’m such a fucking mess.”

“It’s okay to feel this way,” Kate said soothingly, running her thumb over the back of Brooke’s free hand once it returned from her face. Her eyes dropped toward the other, still clutching the now balled-up note, but she didn’t pry. “You’ve endured more than anybody should ever have to. But you’re still alive, Brooke…”

Her eyes hooding, Brooke shook her head. Kate gave her far too much credit. “Compared with what you’ve been through, it was a walk in the park. But I’m the one falling to bits, and you’re– you’re just so strong.”

“Is that what you think I am?” Kate mused in a soft voice. “I fall apart more often than you know, Brooke. I just… try not to show it.” She forestalled a protest with a raised hand. “I know, I know. It’s… a bad habit. Please don’t compare yourself to me. Your trauma isn’t any lesser than mine.”

Brooke sniffled heavily. God, she was snotty after all that. She must have looked so gross. “I’m sorry,” she moaned, not for the first time that day. “I couldn’t handle it and just snapped, and– and ruined today for everyone… The class, your dad, you…”

“You didn’t do any of that,” her friend soothed her, shaking her head. “It’s normal to need help, Brooke. You’re not a burden to anyone. Least of all me.” Kate’s other hand joined the first in cupping Brooke’s hand, holding it fast on either side as she locked eyes with her.

Brooke did her best not to gulp at the imploring intensity of the stare. She really did.

“I don’t want to pressure you, but… but I still need to ask. I see a therapist on Saturdays. Her name is Dr. Cornell. Would you consider going with me sometime?”

Kate could ask her anything in that moment: go to war for her, walk through Hell with her. In the end, the answer would always be the same as the one Brooke actually gave. She nodded and said: “Okay.”

The front door opened and closed again. Kate’s dad called from the other room. “Katie, can you come here?”

“Be right there, Pop,” she called back. Smiling at Brooke, she leaned in for a quick, one-armed hug in parting, then strode out just as suddenly as she’d entered.

Brooke sighed softly and stared at her hand, steadily unballing the nurse’s note, her ire toward it fading. She’d made a promise. There was no use backing out now. She guessed Kate was good for her like that.

No sooner had she gotten used to being alone, however, than Kate entered again, looking a little shaken. She was holding an envelope. “... Sorry to bother after– all that. There’s… a piece of mail for you. And it looks important.”

Perplexed, Brooke took it from Kate’s tentative hand and turned it over, hissing quietly as she saw the official-looking stamp of the Seal of the United States on it and lettering at the top. United States District Court for the District of Oregon.

“Fucking… hell…” she pronounced in disbelief upon splitting the top of the envelope and unfolding the letter inside. The words on it swam past her vision as she furiously scanned it. Brooke Anh Scott – dammit, they forgot the diacritic – Subpoena – the case of U.S. vs. Jefferson.

She didn’t realize that she had almost crumpled another important letter until Kate’s hand settled on her wrist. Brooke breathed, stopped abusing the subpoena notice, and turned to meet her eye again.

“You can do this, Brooke.”

The thing is, Brooke believed her. “I… believe you there. I can… I can do this.”

And as all her negative feelings of the day whittled to a point, focused, she smiled savagely. “Yeah. I’ll do my part to see that smug bastard fucking rot. I’ve got some shit to work through.”

Chapter Text

Thursday, March 27th 2014 [ Brooke ]

“Miss Scott…” the balding man standing before her pronounced slowly. “You stated that during your time at Blackwell Academy, you had three meetings with Mr. Jefferson. Would you characterize the nature of those meetings as friendly?”

Brooke could tell that he thought he was onto something. But all she thought as he looked at her expectantly was, Man, why is the most annoying part of this still the fact that I’m missing almost a full week of school?

She was at the federal courthouse in Portland, in a drab room with a slightly vaulted ceiling and no other details she could honestly call “of interest”. It was carefully bland in a manner which she supposed was meant to indicate neutrality, or the seriousness of the proceedings inside.

She had needed to be excused from several days of school just for witness preparation and other minutiae, to say nothing of the actual trial. It was all a bit hectic, and she didn’t even get to commiserate with Max and Chloe about all this because they had testified the week before and were already back home.

The pictures in the news of Chloe all dressed up and trying to watch her smart mouth for once as she took the stand had been quite something to behold. Brooke wanted to find it funny, but the shots she saw of Chloe tearing up as she testified about the last day she saw Rachel sapped any desire to laugh out of her pretty quickly. There was scarcely a moment of this trial that hadn’t been caught on camera.

Her eyes flitted toward the special section in the gallery for a fraction of a moment, where half a dozen cameras from national news agencies were dedicatedly rolling and photographers snapped hundreds, thousands of shots of all the key players. She’d heard the shutters going off like crazy earlier when she made an affirmation instead of swearing an oath, her hand not on a Bible but a copy of the Constitution.

Brooke considered the irony of this whole thing both beginning and ending with camera shutters. Jefferson had forcefully held so many under a lens, their every expression and emotion exposed. Now the same was happening to him.

She wished he didn’t look so fucking pleased about it. It was bad enough she had to see his face again at all, sitting at the table for the defense. Though cuffed, he was in a collared shirt, immaculately ironed. His hair was perhaps just slightly less coiffed than it had been at Blackwell. Maybe the stress of his detainment had been taking a toll on him.

Good.

But even with his head slightly bowed, eyes not quite visible through the glare on his glasses, there was something of a twist to his lips that she thought looked like a satisfied smile.

Her skin would crawl if she looked too long, though. She had to focus on putting on a strong image, dressed in her finest and calmly doing her best to deal with the cross-examination.

Nothing to be nervous about. Just a federal judge, a full gallery, and a nationwide audience of millions all watching her.

And a superpower in my back pocket in case I see a bad outcome headed my way. She’d play this like an otome game if she had to, avoiding doom flags as she went. The video game comparison helped to make it all a bit less scary. I’ve never been so happy to rely on a cheat code.

“No,” she answered the defense attorney, only a second or two after she was asked. How her mind raced sometimes.

The attorney – Paitson, his name was Paitson, right? – turned a page in his materials at the podium where he stood, a respectable distance away (not all up in her face, like the movies she’d seen). He was a balding man with a look of perpetual concentration on his face. “In your previous statements, you indicated that you just introduced yourself the first time you spoke with Mr. Jefferson, and that it wasn’t an in-depth conversation. There were no arguments or anything like that in that instance?”

“No, there weren’t.”

“What impression did you come away from that conversation with?”

Almost casual, Brooke peered into the mists that held the future. It seemed like the defense wanted to paint her as being prejudicial to and suspicious of Jefferson before that night in the junkyard. She proceeded carefully with that in mind. “I was a bit perturbed.”

“Why was that?”

“Something about him just seemed off to me. Something in the eyes. I couldn’t quantify it, really.”

“There were rumors about Mr. Jefferson going around the school, correct?”

“There were rumors about everyone at Blackwell – including Jefferson, yes.”

“Did you hear any rumors relating to Mr. Jefferson and Rachel Amber?”

Before Brooke could say anything, Mr. Merz, the prosecuting attorney, rose and said, “Objection, the contents of any rumors Miss Scott heard would amount to hearsay. Nobody is available for cross-examination on their contents.”

They were all dead, in other words. Thanks for the reminder. Brooke sat still as the two attorneys and the judge hashed it out.

“The contents of the rumors aren’t the point so much as Miss Scott’s reactions to them,” Paitson countered. “We want to ascertain the context in which her later interactions with the defendant took place.”

The judge, an older woman with graying hair done up in a loose bun, considered, then said, “The questioning may continue, so long as it pertains only to the witness’s reactions, not to the specific contents of the rumors themselves. Overruled.”

Brooke quite literally saw that coming, so she didn’t react. She let Paitson restate the question and replied, “I did.”

“What was your reaction at the time to hearing those?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t believe them.”

“You didn’t find them credible?”

Again, she shook her head. “It’s not that. I didn’t believe them because I just didn’t put any stock in whatever the rumor mill was churning out. Most rumors around the school were lies, and I wanted to focus on my studies anyway.” Not to mention that the rumor mill almost chewed her up and spat her out herself, but she wasn’t going to mention that.

“During your later conversations with Mr. Jefferson, did the subject of these rumors come up?”

“No.”

“Were they on your mind at all?”

“No, they weren’t.”

If Paitson was disappointed by that line of inquiry running dry, he didn’t show it. He turned another page in his notes and went on. “You first called the Arcadia Bay Police Department at 11:22 PM on Thursday the 10th of October. Is there a reason you didn’t contact the ABPD earlier in the week?”

Brooke wanted to frown at that, but managed not to. “For most of that time, I was convinced that Nathan Prescott was the only one involved. It was commonly understood in Arcadia Bay that the Prescott family had close contacts in the police force, so I thought it would be useless to get them involved until there was incontrovertible evidence in hand.”

“Did you ever see any evidence for these connections between the Prescotts and the ABPD?”

“No,” she said.

“But you were still convinced that they existed?”

“Objection, asked and answered,” Merz cut in from the prosecution table, staring hard at Paitson.

“Sustained. Next question please, Mr. Paitson.”

He ruffled a few papers and tried a different approach. “When you made that phone call to the police department, you no longer believed that Nathan Prescott acted alone, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Did you wait for the police to arrive before you proceeded to the American Rust Junkyard?”

“No,” she said again. She was starting to get a little impatient with this line of questioning. From her glimpses of the immediate future, she didn’t think that Paitson would succeed in smearing her. She had to hang in there until he ran out of runway.

“Why is that?”

“I believed that my friends were in mortal peril and I felt a need to do something. I was worried that the officers wouldn’t arrive until it was too late.”

“Was your decision to go alone before the police at all encouraged by who you believed was coming after them?”

“No,” was Brooke’s flat reply. It was the truth, too; it could have been the fucking Lich King gunning for Max and Chloe and she still would have done it. It wasn’t like she was just looking for a chance to attack Jefferson personally without the cops around or anything.

Wishing she’d let him die had only come later, after all.

Paitson seemed a little stumped for a moment. Did he think that because she was just a teenager she’d be easier to fluster or back into a rhetorical corner? Or did Jefferson tell you I had a temper? That I’d be easy to provoke? Sorry, man, you picked the wrong prey.

“Could you turn your attention to the exhibit shown on the screen?” he eventually said.

Turning in her chair, Brooke, along with a good number of the other people in the room, looked up at the screen on the wall. It held the image of a handgun photographed with an ABPD evidence tag.

“Do you recognize this item?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Would you identify it for the court?”

“This is the handgun that Mr. Jefferson had in the junkyard that night.”

“Did you hold this gun that evening?”

Once again, the dark and rolling clouds of the future parted for her eye. He’s seriously going to try to introduce the idea that the gun could have been mine and not Jefferson’s? Sure, my prints were on it and I doubt he registered that thing, but they really must be getting desperate.

“Yes, I did.”

“Did you also point this gun at Mark Jefferson that night?”

“I did.”

“For what reason?”

“For the purpose of self-defense.”

“Was that the only reason?”

“Objection,” called Merz again, standing. “And your honor, can we approach the stand, please?”

“You have permission,” said the judge. Both the defense and prosecution then approached the judge, speaking to her quietly as they discussed the nature of the objection. The stenographer rose to hover nearby and record all of it. Brooke couldn’t make out any of it, but it seemed quite animated.

All she could do was wring her hands, which were hidden behind the witness stand, and wait as the drama and the expectation both rose higher.

Eventually, the huddle broke up, and the two lawyers scattered again, back to their respective tables. Merz came away with a steely look of satisfaction; Paitson did not. The judge, frowning, announced, “Sustained.”

“No further questions, your honor,” said Paitson as soon as he got back, looking and sounding weary. He closed his binder with a final shut.

Brooke felt the mood in the room shift, a couple of voices in the gallery whispering, hushed. Her muscles loosened, the tension she’d been holding in leaving her. Finally. It’s over.

As soon as she was dismissed from the stand, Brooke stood and took the lead of an officer of the court. She spared the jury a quick glance – contemplative to a one, though she thought she saw a few poor orphan Brooke expressions there too – before shaking her head and focusing on following.

As she began to walk down the central aisle, her path took her right past Jefferson. He lifted his head to look at her, inhumanly still just as he was before. But his smile was gone.

Brooke allowed herself to lock gazes with him for just a second, letting him see all her anger, her sorrow, her contempt in her eyes. Then she tore herself away and kept walking, her back straight and her head held high.

“Miss Scott, what sentence do you think Mark Jefferson deserves–”

“No comment.”

“Miss Scott, how are you feeling after your testimony?”

“Like going to law school is suddenly a little bit less tempting.”

“What do you have to say to Mark Jefferson’s fans and admirers?”

“Nothing.”

“Miss Scott, are you–”

“Excuse me, please, I have dinner plans.”

Victoria: You were incredible up there, Brooke. Well done.

Brooke: oh right. i guess everyone i know is going to start texting me in a minute.

Victoria: As well they should. You handled yourself very well.

Victoria: Looking good while doing it too, might I add. I didn’t know you knew how to dress to impress. That masculine style actually works really nicely on you.

Victoria: Got to do something about the hair, though.

Brooke: ugh, i know, it’s on the to do list.

Brooke: but thanks. i wasn’t going to let that lawyer get what he wanted out of me.

Victoria: Right, I had trouble believing that he was the best Jefferson’s money could get. No subtlety. My parents’ lawyers would have been running circles around him.

Victoria: I also couldn’t believe everything you testified about. I mean, I knew you were in some serious shit back then, Kate told me a bit about it, but still…

Brooke: i don’t really process it all at one time. if i did i’d go crazy. really i’m just hoping this marks the point where things can start being normal again.

Victoria: I hope so too.

Victoria: Don’t mind the press, by the way. They’ll lose interest quickly as the news cycle moves on.

Brooke: i guess you’d know?

Victoria: Well, yeah. Chase Space things notwithstanding, they were all over me back in October and November when it came out that my name was on one of the empty binders.

Brooke: oh shit.

Brooke: i’m sorry victoria, i wasn’t even thinking of that.

Brooke: i guess this stuff getting litigated is kind of bringing it back for you, and for his victims too.

Victoria: Stop, I’ll be fine. God knows how Kate is feeling, but I’m sure you’re more than up to the task of comforting her.

Victoria: Ready and willing, I should say.

Victoria: She’s typing.

Victoria: She’s typing…

Victoria: And she’s gone.

Victoria: Bonsoir, Brooke! Enjoy your dinner!

Brooke sent Victoria a selfie with one middle finger raised, then went along her way.

About an hour after leaving the courtroom, Brooke found herself at a bistro just down the street from the Portland hotel she had been staying at. The inside was done up in a modernist style, all black and maroon and right angles, and on a Thursday evening it was moderately busy. Her jacket removed and slung over her shoulder, Brooke scanned the people at each table. When she saw a blonde head raise and a hand wave her over, she smiled and walked the rest of the way.

“Hey, Julie,” she said as she settled into the free seat, draping her jacket over the back.

“Don’t start singing the Fountains of Wayne song at me now,” Julie answered with a laugh.

“The what?”

“Oh come on, that one’s not that old.” A plaintive sigh. “I’m aging by the second. But still happy to see you again anyway. Congrats! You made it!”

“I did,” Brooke breathed. “No offense, Julie, but I don’t want to set foot in another courtroom ever again.”

“Neither do a lot of lawyers, to be fair. It’s a stressful environment, but I thought you did extremely well.”

“You’ve been following the whole case, right? What’s your read on the probable outcome?”

“Jefferson’s screwed,” Julie said, drumming her fingers on the table. “Your cross-examination was pretty much the last chance the defense had to mitigate things, and they totally flubbed it.”

“It’s a huge relief to hear that from someone who knows what she’s talking about,” Brooke admitted with a little sigh. “I’m so ready to put this all behind me. I have enough to worry about without particularly lethal high school drama following me forever.”

“Yeah, I don’t envy your position…” A waiter came by with drink menus. Julie asked for a Diet Coke and Brooke a regular one. When the server bustled away, Julie turned to her again. “This crap will pass, and the future is going to be wide open for you. I promise.”

“Doesn’t feel an awful lot like it…”

“Oh, don’t I know it. When I was 18 I had no clue where I was going. But I made it.”

Brooke blinked, then lifted her gaze from the table, chuckling weakly. “You know, I’m almost certain Mom said exactly the same thing to me a few weeks before she died.”

“And considering what you know about her high school extracurriculars now, you can definitely believe it.”

She couldn’t help returning Julie’s grin at that. “Yeah, that’s true.” Her expression relaxed as she sobered a bit, thinking. “Hey… Sorry for the downer topic, but it just kind of occurred to me a little while ago. Did it, like… bother you at all that there wasn’t a funeral for her?”

Julie blinked, thoughtful, then shook her head. She reached across the table to give Brooke’s hand a pat. “No, not at all… The expenses, the preparations… I can’t blame you for not wanting to deal with it, considering.”

Brooke nodded slowly, her eyes tracking the course of their server, who was slowly making his way back toward them. “That and I figured it would just be me. Or… maybe me and a handful of people I’d never met. It would’ve been stressful. Kind of the last thing I needed.” She paused momentarily as the server dropped off their drinks and took their orders, before going again. “... No body to bury anyway. My mind just shut down any time I tried to approach it. I just… let it go.”

“You sound kind of guilty about that,” Julie ventured, her tone soft.

Brooke took the excuse of sipping her drink to buy her a second before answering. “... Maybe a bit. Trust me, it’s something I intend to bring up with a therapist sometime soon. Kate took me to meet hers the Saturday before last and it… kind of worked out? So I’m going to start going regularly on my own.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. When you mentioned that panic attack, I was… well, kind of worried, to be honest. I’m glad you’re getting help.”

“Kind of sucks to start with one therapist just to probably need to find a different one when I graduate, but I’ll deal.” It was true, but also kind of a deflection from the fact that the praise was making her bashful. Julie was nice enough not to call her on it, though. She clearly had something else in mind.

“The famous Kate did that, huh?” She put her cheek on a fist, grinning broadly. “That’s one heck of a friend you’ve got there.”

Brooke groaned quietly, and knew she was busted. No point in denying the obvious – besides which, she felt like she did kind of owe Julie a follow-up on the conversation they’d had a couple of months before. “Okay, stop the presses. I’m a bit gay…” She paused there, thinking “... Or bi or something. Dunno yet. And I think I’m catching feelings for my best friend.”

“Well, that’s great! The first part. Maybe both parts? What’s the read on the Kate situation?”

For about the billionth time since it happened, Brooke thought about Kate going for a New Year’s kiss… in her own way. “... A solid ‘maybe’?”

Julie laughed softly at that. “What does ‘maybe’ mean? Have you two actually talked about this yet?”

“It means that she might… might … reciprocate. And, uh, no. Basically.” Squint. “Wait, am I being cross-examined by a lawyer again? Where’s my attorney?”

Snickering, the older woman shrugged helplessly. They were interrupted by the server returning with their food, a stay of execution for Brooke as she got to deal with the eminently more easy problem of buttering the baked potato on her plate. Still, it didn’t last for long, and after each of them had taken a few bites, Julie spoke again.

“Okay. I don’t think I’ve earned the right to stick my nose in your business or anything, so stop me if I go too far…”

“You’re fine,” Brooke sighed. “Proceed.”

“Talk to her.”

“I hate reasonable suggestions. They’re always hard.” She took a breath. “Alright. I will.”

Julie looked pleased by that. Still, something she said stuck with Brooke. After chewing on a piece of steak, she turned the questioning around.

“You say that sort of thing a lot by the way… About not earning the right to do this or that thing related to me.” She tilted her head slightly, giving Julie a look which she hoped communicated her seriousness. “For the record, I don’t think that’s true. We may only have known each other for a short time now, but you’ve done a lot for me. And I…” Her gaze dipped again. “I don’t want you holding yourself at an arm’s length. That’s- that’s what she did. Until it was too late.”

Looking a bit stricken, Julie averted her eyes and worried her lip a second before answering. “Shit. I mean, when you put it like that…”

“Sorry,” Brooke hastened to say. “I know that fucked both of us up. Just… I need adults in my life who won’t disappear on me.” Tentatively, she smiled. “Can you promise that at least?”

After a moment, Julie returned it, a penitent air about her, but something optimistic in her expression. “That I can do, Brooke. Happily.”

Chapter Text

Saturday, March 29th 2014 [ Kate ]

There was something up with Brooke.

Kate wasn’t sure what it was just yet. Brooke had come back from Portland the previous morning with a somewhat quiet and avoidant air about her, sealing herself up in her room almost immediately. Kate did what came naturally to her – at first. She waited all day for Brooke to say something. Brooke did what came naturally to her, too – she didn’t. She guessed she should have expected that, having become familiar with her friend’s moody silences.

After her eighth consecutive hour of worrying, Kate forced herself to take note of the fact that Brooke had never once actually rebuked her for taking the first step and asking. She could reach out first. Maybe she should get in the habit more often.

By Saturday evening, she decided to forget what was natural to her, drummed up some courage, and knocked on Brooke’s door.

“It’s open.”

Taking the invitation, Kate stepped gingerly through the doorway and into the guest room. She spent a moment taking it in. There were hints of Brooke everywhere: a poster haphazardly tacked to the wall; a stack of books; stray computer parts, given for free from the shop she worked at. She’d clearly done what she could to make the space feel like hers over her months in the house, though there was still something… tentative and noncommittal about it all. The poster could be taken down at a moment’s notice, the things on the floor packed up anytime.

Clearly it still wasn’t home.

Hiding a quiet sigh, Kate turned her attention to Brooke, who was swiveling around in the rickety old office chair by her desk. She didn’t look surprised to see Kate. A tiny, wry smile appeared on her face, though Kate also thought she looked a bit hesitant. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she returned, waving minutely. “Um… sorry for interrupting your alone time. I’m sure you needed it. I just wanted to check on you and see how everything went.”

“You’re fine, Kate,” Brooke assured her, her calm tone putting her at ease. Brooke started to push a pencil along the top of her desk absently as she talked. “It went pretty well, honestly. The defense tried to smear me to lighten Jefferson’s eventual sentence, but they failed. I went out and had dinner with Julie to celebrate after.”

Nothing bad happened? But then…? Doing her best to hide her confusion, Kate smiled and said, “That’s great. I was–...” Her eyes went away, hand coming to her own wrist to squeeze it nervously. “I was a bit worried about you, admittedly… I figured it was a stressful experience, and you’ve, um… been rather quiet since you got back.”

Brooke stopped pushing the pencil around and looked at Kate. There was something in her eyes almost… afraid? Oh, Lord, Kate never wanted Brooke to feel that way while looking at her. Anxiety swam in her stomach until Brooke spoke again.

“I… Well, I’ve just had a lot of stuff on my mind. We can talk about it if you want? Just… not here, preferably.”

Kate understood. The walls had ears. Allowing herself to relax a little, she nodded and said, “I know just the spot.”

That was how Kate and Brooke ended up, yet again, on the beach in Lincoln City. The shoreline stretched on seemingly forever ahead of them, the lights of the town, just coming on, to their left, the dark blue sea to their right.

The two of them walked slowly, carefully avoiding getting sand in their shoes, Brooke just a pace or two ahead. Springtime had started to make its presence known, balmy air rolling in off the ocean as a gentle breeze. The horizon was changing color as the sun sank lower.

They were just a few hundred yards from the tide pools they visited together, way back in October. As she followed Brooke, her hands idly clasped in front of herself, Kate reflected fondly on that memory; how animated Brooke had been when talking about the things she liked, how Kate’s feelings for her had started to swell until she could ignore them no longer. Just the thought of it was enough to make her blush faintly, but she let the memory rest for the moment. There was enough here in the present to keep her occupied for now, and she didn’t want to miss it by spacing out.

“... I hope it’s actually over,” Brooke said once they were far enough out that there was nobody around. “Seeing his stupid face again made me want to throw up. I hope he fucking dies in prison.”

Kate’s old Sunday school teacher would probably have wanted her to disagree, but she remained silent, staring at the back of Brooke’s head, as if by looking hard enough she could tell what was really going on inside.

“I feel kind of selfish for making it about me, though. I mean, you-... hearing about him again, and the things he did…”

When Brooke trailed off, Kate smiled gently. “I didn’t follow the news, actually. Or watch the streams. I… couldn’t.”

Brooke glanced over her shoulder, worry flashing on her face. “Kate…”

“I’m not upset, Brooke. I’m really glad that it’s over, too. Now things can finally start to change.”

“That’s true,” said Brooke, looking forward again as she continued to walk. “Everything really is changing, isn’t it? Final exams, summer plans, college… I’m not really looking forward to all that. Dealing with the deadlines, or the stress of it all.”

“Me either,” Kate breathed, shaking her head. College… The mention of it sent a pang through her heart. It was just a few months now before the both of them were off to university, probably on different sides of the country. She wanted to relish the time she had left with Brooke, but the days were going by so fast. How quickly would they run out entirely?

When she managed to raise her eyes from the sand beneath her feet, she saw that Brooke had slowed down ahead of her and then stopped. The frayed and faded red in her ponytail danced on the breeze still passing overhead. Her shoulders were slightly raised, eyes cast downward.

“Brooke…?”

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

Kate’s eyebrows shot up. That came out quite suddenly. When Brooke glanced back once more and noticed the look on Kate’s face, she turned around fully, waving her hands. “It’s nothing bad! I mean… I hope not. Sorry, I know that sounded kind of dramatic…”

“It’s okay, Brooke,” Kate said, laughing softly despite herself. “You can tell me anything. I told you that a long time ago.”

“You did,” Brooke agreed, rubbing the back of her head. “I love that about you. That you aren’t judgmental. I do feel safe talking to you, Kate. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Kate swelled with pride and happiness hearing that out of Brooke’s mouth. Her stomach was fluttering. “I won’t,” she answered quietly, like an oath.

Considering then for a moment longer, Brooke stared silently over the sea. Kate followed her eye, seeing how the sun was creeping lower and lower. The whole sky was orange now, faint hints of purple at the opposite side, a few wispy clouds making light streaks across the tableau.

“I’m…” Brooke drew herself up, looking to Kate again. Her eyes were wide and earnest, mouth slack for a second, like the words didn’t want to come out. Some sort of tension built. Then it released when she exhaled, a little shaky, and said, “I’m gay.”

It took Kate a second to even comprehend. “Oh. Oh! Really?” Seeing the doubtful look on Brooke’s face, she hastened to correct herself. “Sorry, it’s just that you said before… Is this something new?”

Brooke nodded slowly, gaze drooping again. She rubbed her arm as she spoke. “Yeah. I mean, I like girls at least. I’ve only known that for, like, a month.”

Kate smiled tentatively. Could this mean…? No, she shouldn’t assume. It was most important for her to be supportive in this moment. “I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me that. And I’m here for you–”

“There’s more,” Brooke interrupted, her words rushed, almost barked out. Kate stopped short and blinked at her twice, a little surprised.

Brooke scrunched up her brow and raised her hands, which she stared at in what looked like frustration. She was struggling to find the words for something. “I… I…”

Then the tension broke, and Brooke’s eyes met hers, her expression pleading as she blurted out, “I don’t want to go to Johns Hopkins! Or Carnegie Mellon.”

Kate was confused. “But…”

Heedless, Brooke talked over her. “Or anywhere. I don’t want to go anywhere, if…” Her eyes shone, posture finally relaxing, arms hanging by her sides. “... if you’re not there with me.”

Kate’s eyebrows went missing somewhere behind her bangs. The words settled into her brain, and despite herself, she smiled, even as she breathed out in disbelief, “What?”

“But I want to go everywhere with you. I want to visit the corners of the earth and see you paint each and every one of them. I want to hear you play the violin. I want to laugh with you, and watch stupid TV shows, and complain about nerdy shit you don’t care about, and–” Brooke laughed at herself. “And I guess I’m fucking greedy, because I just… want… everything.”

Kate found herself taking a step closer to Brooke, her hands still folded in front of her, as if afraid they’d do something irresponsible if she didn’t keep a firm hold of them. As she did, Brooke sucked in her lip, took a shaky, anxious breath, and continued.

“I feel like I’ve only just started to know you, Kate.” Her voice was so soft, so vulnerable, it made Kate’s heart ache – in between the flips it was doing, anyway. “I don’t want this to stop. Not now. Not when we’re…” She stifled another laugh. “When we’re just getting to the good part.”

As for Kate, her smile hadn’t gone anywhere. Her cheeks were starting to ache a little, but she didn’t care a whit. “... I feel like I’m just starting to know myself, too,” Kate managed to find the words to say, gazing down at her shoes and fussing with the green silicon wristband she wore. “I… I admit, Brooke, I’ve been worried about the same thing for a while now. The idea of being separated from you… even if we could communicate online or by phone… I don’t know how I’d bear it.”

She lifted her gaze again, seeing how hopeful and expectant Brooke’s expression was. Kate decided to take a few steps nearer and reached out to take Brooke’s hands in hers. She held them tight as she spoke. “I want to stay with you too, Brooke. Because, I…”

Well, here goes nothing. Lord give me strength.

“I love you.” The words came out like a sigh. Or a breath of relief. Kate felt a weight lift off of her soul. “And I actually have for a while.”

Brooke didn’t react with quite the same solemnity. After blinking once, she took on a pleased look, that sort of ‘I knew it!’ glint in her eye that she had any time she was proved right about something. Kate tried not to giggle as Brooke spoke. “How long is ‘a while’?”

“Since the rooftop?” Kate speculated with a little hum.

That made the look of satisfaction flee, Brooke’s expression a mask of shock. “Wh– that long? ” She shook her head at herself. “Man, I really am clueless.”

“But cute,” Kate murmured, voicing what she’d been afraid to say for months. She was rewarded by an absolutely vivid red blush rising to Brooke’s cheeks. She reached up to cup one of them with her hand and prevent Brooke from taking her eyes away.

Brooke smiled hesitantly at the touch, reaching up with her now freed hand to rest it on Kate’s shoulder. “Kate, I…” Still smiling, she shook her head subtly, the evening light casting dramatic shadows on her face as she did. “You’re… way ahead of me. I still don’t really know what to call this feeling I have. But I’m really excited to figure it out. Even if it takes a while.”

“You’re asking me if I’m okay with waiting?” At Brooke’s nod, Kate pulled her a little closer. Though Brooke was visibly a little meek and surprised, she tamely allowed Kate to tip her head forward a bit so she could leave a kiss on her forehead. “Of course I am,” Kate whispered once that was done. “You’re worth it.”

Kate removed her hand, and as soon as she was allowed to do so, Brooke’s gaze shot straight down to the sand at her feet, an adorably flustered smile on her face. “O-oh. Okay. Cool. I guess we’ll… feel things out in the meantime.” Then her brow knitted, concentrating. “I think I want to take a gap year. Like Max is doing. I feel like I need the breathing room.”

“Then I’ll do the same,” Kate said.

“Are you sure?” Brooke asked, a little concerned. “You shouldn’t just follow my lead, you have your own future to worry about, too…”

“If my future doesn’t include you, then I don’t want it,” was her firm reply. “Besides, I think I need breathing room, too. I’ve spent too long being hidden away from the world… or being afraid of it. You give me the confidence to want more of it.”

Pausing in thought, Kate reached down and removed her wristband. She’d worn it for about a year now, after a benefit for organ donation awareness she participated in. It had long since just turned into an accessory, a trademark of hers. No longer.

As Brooke took it in hand and looked at her questioningly, Kate’s smile returned, broad and unrestrained. “You hold onto that. Think of it as a badge of our promise to stay together. Remember?”

The promise Brooke made to her on the rooftop. The one they spoke again at the hospital. The one they reaffirmed now, under a setting sun, on the threshold of the rest of their lives.

Brooke slipped the band onto her wrist, and graced Kate with a smile that seemed just a little more solid, a little more sure. And Kate wasn’t sure if she was just imagining it, but she could swear Brooke looked just a little taller.

“I’ll never forget it, Kate. Never.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday, May 21st 2014 [ Brooke ]

A bright, sunny sky cast its beneficent light down upon Lincoln City, promising summer days not so far ahead. The warm weather had forced Brooke to take off her flannel of choice for the day, tying it around her waist to leave her in the plain white t-shirt she wore underneath. She spared a second as a small cloud passed over the sun to shade her eyes with her hand, look up, and smile. The clear blue punctuated here and there with fluffy cumuli was picture-perfect.

As had become her habit over the past months, she was walking back to the house, this time from her latest exam. It had gone pretty well – chemistry: conquered – and she was confident that she’d end this year near the top of her class, just like she should have done at Blackwell.

The weeks had been passing quickly, but for once, Brooke didn’t feel like that was such a bad thing. The specter of college deadlines and all they entailed had passed her over. The future was no longer a terror, but something she was cautiously excited for.

It was amazing what a difference it made to her mood. Work went faster, exams posed no issue. She even felt like it was easier to hang out with her friends, and she smiled more while doing it. Her visits with Dr. Cornell were going well. She hadn’t been able to schedule them too frequently because of her school and work obligations, but they had spent a while already talking about her fear of thunderstorms. During the two storms that had rolled through in the meantime, she had tried some exercises the therapist taught her to deal with them. They… sort of worked. But even small progress was still progress.

All in all, Brooke was walking on air this Wednesday, just like she did just about every other day. And naturally, it all came back to Kate.

That conversation on the beach had gone better than she could ever have dreamed. She could admit a little pride in herself for actually pushing past her fear and anxiety and putting herself out there, something she never could have done back in Arcadia Bay. Kate’s gentle and accepting reaction had made it all worth it.

(As did the kiss on her forehead. The gifted bracelet, still affixed to her wrist two months later. Being called cute. Brooke thought she really liked Kate calling her cute.)

It had admittedly been a little bit… intimidating to learn just how deep Kate’s feelings for her ran, and how long they had been there. Brooke was self-conscious of lagging behind, as she so often did, unable to match Kate’s maturity, her assuredness in her own emotions. It made her feel, well, a bit inadequate. But Kate was pretty good at making her forget about it. Brooke believed her when she said she would be patient with Brooke’s feelings. That Brooke was worth waiting for.

She believed that Kate believed it, at least. Actually internalizing that thought for herself was a project that Brooke suspected would take a good long time.

In the meantime, they had been carrying on in private, stealing opportunities for little dates wherever they could, testing the waters just as Brooke had suggested. It wasn’t anything especially different from what they’d been doing before, but something about holding hands, seeing a movie, walking in the woods, was just a little different now that they both knew what was going on, in a way Brooke couldn’t quite define. Sure, they had to do it all where no one else could see, but it was still nice.

She guessed that was part of why she was so excited for the future. Julie had given her the good news just the other day: the last arrangements for her mom’s estate had finally been finished up, and Brooke could breathe easily about money again. She honestly wasn’t sure what to do about that just yet; Julie had referred her to a financial advisor to talk to, and Brooke was inclined to take that advice. If she played her cards right, she could not just go to college without any loans once the time came, but not even need to keep a job through it.

In fact, she could quit her job right now if she wanted, but honestly, she liked Dougie, and PC Universe for that matter. She’d stick around until it was time to move away.

Perhaps more pressingly, it meant she didn’t have to stay in the Marsh household for too much longer. Between her money and Kate’s from that Prescott check, they could make arrangements over the summer to get the both of them out of this stressful environment and to someplace where they could explore their future together with less fear. They’d already had a few brief discussions on the subject, and while there was nothing concrete yet, Brooke could tell that Kate was just as eager to get out of this place as she was.

That was all for the future, though, Brooke reflected as she came up on the familiar facade of the Marsh house. It could wait until after exams and graduation were out of the way.

So she thought, at least, until she stepped inside.

There was something tense in the air, something that froze her in place. It was just like the latent danger in the air she’d sensed in the Prescott barn… or in the junkyard, for that matter, the feeling of an imminent ambush. Her instincts screamed at her to turn around again and exit, but she had already been spotted.

Standing in the living room just off to one side of the front door, Mrs. Marsh turned to Brooke with her arms tightly folded – and she was pissed.

“... And here she is,” she announced, her voice clipped. “I asked one thing of you when you came here, Brooke. Just one thing. And you disobeyed it – flagrantly. You threw my hospitality back in my face. Well, now that I know what’s going on, I’m not going to let you corrupt my daughter for a second longer. It’s over. ”

Brooke’s heart sank, a cold pit in her stomach. How does she know? How could she know? She and Kate had been so careful, so stealthy. Now they were going to be torn apart. It was all over before it could begin.

A stirring on the steps snapped her out of her horrified stupor. Lynn had slowly walked down from upstairs, no doubt hearing her mom’s raised voice, and now looked on with hurt and confusion, her eyes flitting between all three of the other people there.

Yes… There were three. But now that she had been brought back to reality and she looked at the couch behind where Mrs. Marsh stood, the girl she saw sitting there with her head bowed in shame wasn’t Kate. It was Grace.

“I’m sorry, Brooke,” Grace said, her voice miserably quavering, face puffy with shed tears. Her glasses were clutched in her lap.

“You make me sick,” Mrs. Marsh hissed, ignoring her middle daughter’s words. “Trying to destroy a young girl’s faith in Christ… You’re worse than an apostate. You’re an agent of Satan and you’re leaving this house today.”

Brooke didn’t feel relieved – she couldn’t feel relieved in the face of this – but clarity settled upon her as she realized that one secret, at least, was safe. She should still be afraid of this unexpected obstacle, this dragon looming in her path. But she wasn’t. She saw how beaten Grace looked, how ashamed. Saw her berated and belittled by her own mother.

Brooke had some opinions about what a proper mother should be like. God knows she’d longed for one throughout her adolescence, and only found it in brief glimpses, gone before they could become something more real. Maybe back when she’d first set foot in this house, she hoped that there was something redeemable inside this woman, that Mrs. Marsh could fill that void in her life.

The last tiny vestiges of that misbegotten idea now shriveled and died, scourged out by a protective fire suddenly burning in her chest for the sake of Kate’s younger sister.

Brooke wasn’t afraid. She was angry.

Her fist clenched at her side, but before she could voice her thoughts, the front door clicked open behind her – Richard, bringing Kate back from school. The cavalry was here. She hoped.

“Dear?” Richard, taking off his jacket, asked warily as he looked between Lynn, Brooke, Grace, then finally his wife. “What in the world is going on here…?”

Behind him, Brooke saw Kate’s eyes widen with worry, then flit over to meet hers. She was clutching her bag strap very tightly. Brooke shook her head subtly, hoping to get across that it wasn’t what Kate probably thought. Then she directed her attention back to Mrs. Marsh, grim, just in time to hear her next volley.

“Richard. This girl,” gesturing at Brooke derisively like she didn’t even warrant the words, “has been taking advantage of us ever since she came into this house.”

Visibly confused by the accusation, Richard looked at Brooke and then back to his wife again, trying to placate her. “Should this argument be happening in front of the girls? Look, let’s go into my office and have a talk–”

“They all need to hear this.”

“She said Brooke was trying to lead Grace away from God,” Lynn said quietly, still looking and sounding extremely uncomfortable.

“She wasn’t,” Grace protested, finding her voice, shaky though it was. “I looked up those sites myself, Mom, it had nothing to do with her…”

“Wait,” Brooke interjected, laser-focused as she fixed Mrs. Marsh with a fierce glare. “You found out because you were looking at her computer? That’s such a violation of privacy!”

The woman glared right back. “You don’t get to comment on my parenting!”

Richard both looked and sounded alarmed by this news. “Carolann, we never agreed on doing that…”

She shook her head at him. “Well, it’s a good thing I did anyway, or else we might not have found out before it was too late to save her. Even if looking for the websites was her own doing, she admitted that Brooke here had some conversations with her about the subject, too…”

“Yeah, I did!” Brooke exclaimed. “You know why? Because I saw a girl who needed help. Someone who felt isolated, who needed somebody to nod and listen to her vent about it. The only reason this is the first you’re hearing about it is because we both knew you’d react like this. Grace is scared of you! I hope you’re proud.”

Mrs. Marsh’s eyes flared in anger, but before she could fire back, Kate came up alongside Brooke and finally let her voice be heard. “If you’re mad at Brooke, Mom, then you have to be mad at me, too. Because I’ve also talked with Grace about this stuff. And you know what I said? I told her I’d love her no matter what she chose to believe. Then I told her that I’d pray for you to do the same.” Her voice took on a bitter tinge, her arms crossed – an uncanny mirror image of her mom, whom she resembled so much, just aimed the opposite way. “But it looks like I was a bit too optimistic.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Katherine!” Mrs. Marsh shot back furiously. “I love you girls so much it hurts. That’s why I try so hard to keep you on the right track!”

Brooke met Grace’s eye. She still looked miserable, but she thought she detected a trace of gratitude there for standing up for her. That was good – Brooke knew rationally that her anger was in danger of getting away from her, but she didn’t want to make this worse for the poor girl.

As for Kate’s dad, he just looked stunned, like he didn’t know what to say or do in the face of the things being thrown back and forth.

Well, as long as he wasn’t trying to stop this, Brooke would take courage from the look on Grace’s face and tell Mrs. Marsh exactly what she really thought of her. “If that’s your idea of love, I wouldn’t like to see how you treat the ones you hate. Wait– I don’t need to picture it! You’ve hated me from the instant I walked into this house!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about–”

“It wasn’t this, was it?” Brooke interrupted, scornful, narrowing her eyes at the woman. “You don’t hate me because I talked with Grace about science. You don’t even do it just because you think I’m gay.” She saw Mrs. Marsh’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as she realized that she’d overheard that conversation.

Brooke thought all the way back to that moment, just a couple of days after the storm, when she walked through that door for the first time. How Mrs. Marsh looked momentarily surprised and disquieted as soon as she saw her face.

And Brooke gave a rueful laugh, slowly shaking her head. “Be honest with me here. If Kate’s best friend had turned out to be white, would we even be having this conversation right now?”

Four pairs of eyes, identical in their shock, turned to Kate’s mom as the rest of the Marsh family stared at her. Perhaps they were hoping for a sign that it wasn’t true. But Brooke could see the guilt plain on her face – she looked scared for a moment, before the steel and the derision both returned.

“Ridiculous. You’re–” She snapped her gaze about at each of the others in turn. “Don’t you see? ‘The thief comes only to steal, to kill, and to destroy.’ She’s trying to tear this family apart!”

“Mom,” Lynn pleaded, “please stop.”

Richard finally broke out of his stupor and spoke. “Carolann, this isn’t like you. Brooke hasn’t done anything wrong. Moreover, I think you owe Grace an apology…”

“I don’t believe what I’m hearing!” Mrs. Marsh dragged her hands down her face. “Katherine, please tell me there is still some love for the gospels within you. You must realize that this girl isn’t worthy of your friendship!”

Kate blinked, then breathed out a small laugh of disbelief. “You don’t know what you’re asking me, Mom.”

“You’re my first daughter, my eldest! I put all my hopes for the future in you… I just can’t bear the thought of her leading you into sin–”

“I’m already a sinner, Mother!” Kate’s fists balled up as she lost her patience.

Brooke, realizing what she was about to announce, felt her heart clench. She turned hastily. “Kate, you don’t have to–”

But Kate just held her arm out and shook her head at Brooke. She knew that look – Kate had already made up her mind. Trusting her judgement, Brooke nodded slowly and let Kate take over.

“All Brooke has ever done is show me kindness and understanding. She’s put her life on the line for me. And I love her for it, Mom. I love her. And that love isn’t a sin!”

New panic arose in Mrs. Marsh’s eyes. “Katie, you’re talking nonsense. You’re a good girl, you’re–”

“I’m gay, Mother!” The words erupted from Kate, followed shortly after by a gust of breath, something held in for far too long finally escaping. “And I have been. For years. My whole life. Before I even met Brooke.”

“Katherine Beverly Marsh– ”

“And this is why I never told you. Because I was afraid of you too.” Her resolve solidifying, eyes bright with fury, Kate reached for her hand, finding one of the three rings she wore. She pulled it free and let it fall to the hardwood floor.

Clink.

“But not anymore. I see you for what you really are now. The thing I hate most in the world.”

Another was removed.

Clink.

“A bully. ”

And clink. The last one clattered to a stop near Mrs. Marsh’s shoe with a dreadful finality.

The older woman was stunned into inaction for a moment. Brooke took that time to look around and gauge the mood. Lynn still looked a bit scared, but now she was also looking between Brooke and Kate with obvious curiosity. Grace had forgotten to cry, both of her eyebrows raised. Kate’s father was hard to read, but he was staring at the floor.

“You… You…” Mrs. Marsh rallied, one last time. “I see what happened. It was that school – that Babylon, that Sodom and Gomorrah both, Arcadia Bay! God didn’t destroy those sinners just so you–”

“That’s enough! ”

Brooke had never heard Richard Marsh raise his voice before. It took her a second to even recognize that’s what it was. She turned to him with wide eyes, and so did everyone else. By the looks on the others’ faces, she wondered if he ever had.

His expression was thunderous as he looked at his wife. “Carolann. You need to cool off. Just-... just go somewhere else.”

Finally, Mrs. Marsh’s shoulders drooped. Something in her seemed to break. Sniffing, she turned and then stormed out of the room, her hateful presence lingering for a few moments more after she was gone.

Richard lifted his glasses with his fingers and pinched the bridge of his nose, before his shoulders sagged. When he opened his eyes again, he didn’t look angry, but lost and defeated. The very next thing he did was turn and walk to where Grace was still sitting on the couch.

“Daddy–” she said, threatening to well up again.

He sat with her, put his arms around her, and hugged her tight. For her part, she clung to him like her life depended on it.

“Gracie, sweetie, I’m so sorry. If you feel like you can’t talk to me about what’s on your mind, then I’ve failed you.” He turned his head to look at his eldest. “You too, Katie. I don’t… well, I certainly didn’t expect …” He breathed. “You’re still my daughter. I can adapt. Assuming that you’re not disappointed in me, too.”

“How could I be?” Kate answered breathily, wiping at the corner of her eye.

“Because I refused to open my eyes,” Richard said, sighing. “I noticed how angry your mother had become. How… hateful. I just hoped that…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Some things are going to need to change around here. And they may hurt – but it’s been a long time coming.”

“I forgive you, Pop,” Kate said, causing him to visibly relax a little. “And I love you.”

Brooke had just been hanging back and watching this display, feeling like she was witnessing something private. She was a little startled when Lynn appeared next to her and gave her a big hug of her own. “I think you belong here,” Lynn whispered.

Well, shit. Brooke just might have teared up a little bit at that herself. She patted Lynn’s back.

“I agree,” Richard said softly, looking at Brooke with a sad smile. “I can’t help but feel I failed you too, Brooke. After losing your mother and your home, this was supposed to be a refuge for you. I didn’t do enough to deal with my wife’s animus toward you, and that ruined everything.”

But Brooke shook her head. “Not everything. Getting to know you guys… It has genuinely been awesome. I… I really wanted to call this a home. I’d… never really had a family before.” She felt something slip into her hand, and looked over to see Kate holding it in hers. She gave Brooke an encouraging smile, one which she couldn’t help but return. “Maybe I’m starting to. Thanks to Kate.”

“Awww!” she heard Lynn coo quietly from her other side.

Richard’s smile warmed a little, and he sighed quietly, before looking down the hall where his wife had retreated. “But for the immediate future, the next couple of days… I don’t know.  I need to try to bring her back.”

Brooke didn’t see that going well, but she guessed she couldn’t begrudge the man that much. “... It might be a good idea for me and Kate to be out of the house while you do that. Just for a few days.”

He looked like he wanted to disagree, but accepted after a moment, nodding at her. “If you need money for a hotel room…”

Brooke shared a slightly amused look with Kate. “I think we’ll be fine on that part.”

About an hour later, Brooke’s and Kate’s suitcases sat by the foot of a hotel bed, disregarded and unopened. The minute that they escaped the house, they had wanted nothing more than to just collapse.

That they had done. A few inches apart, they laid on the king-sized bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun. Brooke felt like her ears were still ringing after all that noise and fury earlier. In the quiet room, their absence was kind of deafening.

“... I knew it would happen eventually,” Kate murmured. “I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“Me either.” A breath drew reluctantly out of her. Her hands were crossed on her stomach, thumbs twiddling. “Your mom is…”

“She’s terrible,” came the reply immediately. “I should pray for her to come back to grace, but honestly… I think that chance disappeared a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

At that, Kate turned toward Brooke and laid on her side, resting her cheek on the back of her hand. There was a tiny, fragile smile on her face. “Don’t be. I’m glad I can see her for what she really is. And one way or another, I guess the rest of the family can, too.” Her lashes lowered a little, eyes downturned. “It’s Grace and Lynn I feel bad for. They deserve a good mother, but all they have is… her. I feel like they’re both too young to have their illusions shattered like that.”

“The two of them are amazing,” Brooke assured Kate, reaching out to brush her thumb against the other’s cheek. “Your dad will look after them.”

Kate’s smile became more full at the touch. She reached up with her free hand and took hold of Brooke’s elbow, using it to pull herself closer and – oh, okay. She had her arm draped over Brooke’s stomach now and was resting her head on her chest, her eyes closed. Brooke had never actually… cuddled before.

It was nice.

Her lips felt a little dry. She licked them and, after a protracted silence, she asked, “What’s going to happen now? We kind of planned to have all summer to figure our plans out, but we’ve got to get out of the blast zone so your dad can handle this.”

“I think you already have a good idea,” Kate said, not lifting her head. “Go ahead and ask them. I’m… I’m ready to move on.”

‘Them’, huh? Brooke guessed that they really were on the same page about this. After flashing Kate a fond smile the blonde couldn’t actually see from her angle, she turned her attention to slipping her hand into her pocket. With her phone in her grip, she clumsily unlocked it and then slowly texted with one hand.

Brooke: hey. some stuff happened down here.

Brooke: do you have room for two more in that rv?

Chapter Text

[ ♪ ]

Saturday, June 14th 2014 [ Brooke ]

The weeks passed them by. A few days after checking into the hotel, Brooke and Kate returned to the house again because Carolann had gone off to stay with May’s family. Richard said it was just for a little bit, but Brooke had her doubts.

Kate graduated, and Brooke clapped for her in the audience so hard her hands hurt. Kate ignored her classmates and went straight to bowl over Brooke in a hug that sent them both falling into the grass and laughing.

Brooke went next. Wecoma’s student body was pretty small, so the ceremony was just merged with that of the city’s main high school. Accordingly, there were loads of people around she didn’t recognize. It didn’t matter, though – she and her friends from the study group still threw their caps high and shouted as loud as they could when the time came.

Lynn finished fifth grade, and Grace ninth, with no issues. Brooke heard that Richard was considering giving them the choice of going to public school next year, but a lot of discussions clearly still laid ahead. The girls were doing fine; Lynn had bickered less with Grace and clung to her a lot more since the confrontation with their mom. For her part, Grace was clearly enjoying some peace of mind and kept her room’s door open more.

Max and Chloe had been in touch about their travel plans, hashing out an itinerary with Brooke and Kate. Everything in Seattle sounded like it was going well. They’d even had what sounded like a very interesting night on the town to celebrate with Victoria after graduation passed, though Brooke wasn’t sure she wanted to know why the three of them were now apparently banned from a dozen different bars in the city.

Before Brooke knew it, the day arrived. She greeted it with a drawn-out, expectant sigh the moment that she woke up. Her mind buzzed with apprehension and excitement in equal part.

One last farewell tour. Then… to the ends of the earth.

First it was down to PC Universe. Her last day wasn’t anything especially arduous, and in fact she only ended up working about two hours of it, helping to open the store. When that was done, she looked fondly around the place, at the stacks of hard drives, the ancient AOL posters, even the dust bunnies running for cover behind the front desk.

“It’s not going to be the same here without you,” Dougie declared, sighing as Brooke shouldered her bag. “Whatever new hires I get over the summer, they’re just not gonna know their stuff like you do.”

She grinned crookedly at him. “Oh, c’mon old man, you’ll be fine. You may need to whip them into shape, but just think of it as training the next generation.”

He laughed at her playful insult, shaking his head. “I think with you at the vanguard, that generation’s already all set… Oh!” His eyes lit up. “That reminds me. I was gonna give you somethin’...”

She watched with curiosity as he went into the back. There was a sound of rummaging as boxes that hadn’t been cleared out in a while fell down, some muted swearing when one hit Dougie’s foot. Brooke rolled her eyes and waited patiently for him to return.

When he came back, he held a thumb drive in both hands as if reverently carrying the relic of a saint. There was a strip of masking tape on the side, on which were written the words “Dougie’s Bag of Tricks”.

Taking it in hand, she inspected it, chuckling helplessly. “Dougie, what is this hacker crap?”

“Crap…! That’s a backup of all the tools I’ve built over the last thirty years of cruising the ‘net. If there’s nothing in there that’s useful for you, I’ll eat my shoe.”

“Alright, alright. I believe you.” Charmed, Brooke pocketed the drive and gave him an appraising nod. “... I seriously will miss this place. Thanks for giving me this chance, man. It means a lot.”

“Don’t mention it.” A warmer smile from the man. “Stay safe out there. And–!”

“Show no mercy to any Mac user, yeah, I got it.” Turning and waving over her shoulder, Brooke strode out of the store for the last time.

Her next stop was the post office. The same woman from last time recognized and smiled at her. Brooke had bought a P.O. box in Portland which Julie would be checking regularly for her, so with the postal worker’s help, Brooke’s mail would end up in safe keeping during her sojourn. The woman wished her a nice trip before she went.

From there, it was just a short walk to the McDonald’s downtown. It was one of the bigger sort, with the playplace and everything, relatively busy with school being out for the summer. As soon as she walked in, Duncan turned his head from the table he sat at and grinned wickedly, before he and the rest of the study group struck up a song. “For she’s a jolly good fellow…”

Brooke endured the whole thing on the way over, other patrons staring in bemusement at the display. The singing dissolved into applause when she made it to the table. “You guys are so dumb,” she said fondly. “You know the ice cream cakes here are only meant for birthdays, right?”

“Well, your birthday’s in a month and we’re gonna miss it…” Tucker said, sly.

“You’ll take the stupid cake and you’ll like it,” Sierra added with a fiendish gleam.

“The cake is a lie,” came Brooke’s rote reply, prompting laughter from a couple and groans from others. She hung her bag on the one empty seat and sat down, conceding the whole point and letting them hand her the first slice. “Damn, I haven’t had one of these since I was ten…”

“There’s just something about that crappy chocolate crumble at the bottom that really does it for me, you know?” Lee was leaning back in their chair as they waxed poetic.

It genuinely wasn’t that bad, Brooke decided after the first bite. The others grabbed pieces now that the “birthday girl” had started. “I’m really glad everyone’s schedules lined up for this…”

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Duncan said. “Besides, I’m pretty sure we’re all more or less clear until August…”

“Right! Where are you off to, Duncan?”

“Me and Hakim are both headed for the University of Washington.” He shot his friend a grin, which was returned, before glancing over at one of the others. “What about you, Sierra?”

“University of Maryland,” she answered simply. “I’ll be attending the school of engineering.” Very far from home. Brooke had gathered that Sierra and her family didn’t get along all that well; she just nodded slowly at the answer, then turned her attention to Tucker.

“Texas Tech,” he announced proudly, “just like my dad. Go Red Raiders!”

“It’s the University of Michigan for me,” Lee said, idly turning their cane over in their lap. “But sorry, Tucker, I can’t match your football spirit. I’m a twig, a single tackle would snap me in half.”

“Wow, and there’s me and my gap year. You guys are gonna make me feel like a loser.” Brooke laughed, the others voicing their protest before she cut it off by saying, “Seriously. You’re all gonna do amazing. You’re going to be absolutely amazing. It’s just kind of sad for everyone to be split up, huh?”

She saw Sierra cast her gaze downward at the reminder, and she looked at her with faint concern. Before she could ask, Tucker spoke up and said, “Well, yeah… We’re still gonna have the Skype group though, right?”

“Well duh,” said Duncan. “I’m sure we can schedule video game nights on weekends or something.”

Brooke laughed sharply. “Rude, I don’t have the hardware to kick your ass from across the country yet. The second I get my hands on a better laptop…” Her evil gaze fixed itself upon him. “You and me, MGE, stock Scout only. Winner takes all.”

Duncan gave that same energy right back. “You’re on.”

Hakim rolled his eyes. “Geez. Getting ahead of ourselves, are we? You’ll have a couple months to get your hardware figured out, Brooke. And the rest of us still have all summer with each other before we have to split up.”

“Yeah… all summer,” Sierra said, appearing to regain some of her spirit. By the time that Brooke looked questioningly at her, she was already standing up and striding over to the other side of the table. Duncan blinked owlishly up at her as she loomed.

“Two months really isn’t enough time, is it Dunc?” Sierra mused, before leaning down and pulling the surprised redhead into a rather firm kiss.

… Well, that certainly explained why Sierra had given her so many death glares back when Duncan was still talking about Brooke saving him all the time. She looked on, bemused, while a couple of McDonald’s employees over behind the counter whistled and clapped.

Lee coughed. “... Is anyone gonna narrate for me, or…”

“I think Sierra and Dunc just started dating,” said Tucker.

“Well finally, ” they said, throwing their hands up in relief.

When Sierra pulled away and saw Duncan’s red face and bewildered smile, she grinned fiercely, patted his head, and strode back to her seat, satisfied. “Well, now that that’s taken care of,” she said glibly as if nothing had just happened, “don’t worry too much about us, Brooke. You and your girlfriend should just focus on enjoying your newfound freedom.”

Brooke would protest the phrasing, as was her habit, but it would kind of be disingenuous at this point, wouldn’t it? She sighed tolerantly and nodded in response. “Trust me, I fully intend to.”

“I’m really gonna miss you, Brooke,” Hakim said.

Lee nodded. “We all will. I got used to having you around. Just don’t be a stranger?”

“I won’t,” Brooke swore. “Getting to befriend you guys was the best part of this whole pit stop. I promise I’ll drop in on you if we pass through the places where you’re going to school, alright?”

She looked up as a red sports car pulled into the parking lot, quickly finishing off the last two bites of her cake before grabbing her bag. “I think that’s my ride.”

“It’s one hell of a car is what it is,” Duncan, now somewhat recovered, pointed out, probably mostly for Lee’s benefit. “Who’s the driver?”

Brooke laughed. “That’s actually one hell of a long story.”

“So how are you feeling?” Julie asked as she steered the way toward the Marsh household. She had her hair back in a loose tail and was wearing sunglasses, an easy grin on her face.

For her part, Brooke hadn’t gotten over being in the passenger seat of a Ford GT just yet. Julie was really living up to the big-shot lawyer stereotype right now. “A little nervous. Bittersweet, too. Lincoln City wasn’t all bad.”

“Aw. You’ll see them all again, you know. You don’t seem like the sort to let friendships go easily.”

Brooke guessed that was true. She sent a small smile in Julie’s direction. “I’m also really excited. It’s been way too long since I traveled anywhere. Getting to do it with my best friends and Kate for company– that’s going to be fantastic.”

“I think it’ll be really good for you,” Julie agreed. “If you need anything done back here, just let me know, alright?”

Brooke nodded, just as they pulled into the driveway of the house. As the engine stopped and Brooke stepped out, she saw two figures emerging from inside. Richard came first, looking a bit tired, she thought, but still smiling. Behind him was Kate.

Though not Kate as Brooke had ever seen her.

The drab monochrome shades her friend had favored for so long were no more. Even the style of clothing was completely different. The only thing that remained were her white sneakers, but above that she wore blue overalls over a white shirt with thick green stripes. The bun was gone – Brooke only realized how long Kate’s hair was every now and then, in the rare occasions she saw it down. Her bangs were similar, if styled a little more purposefully, and the rest was tied back in a simple, cute braid.

Her hazel eyes were vibrant and excited, like she was proud. And she should have been, Brooke thought. She looked free for the first time – and really pretty.

Oh my God, I’m so fucking gay.

She felt a nudge bringing her back from reality to save her from the sizzling, popping, short-circuiting of her brain. Glancing over, she saw that Julie’s elbow was the culprit. And she was winking at Brooke. Augh! Caught out!

Pulling herself back together, Brooke stepped up to Kate, who had been watching her expectantly, hand on her other elbow behind her back.

“What do you think, Brooke?”

“I think you’re a wizard for sneaking that by me. I was only out of the house for a few hours…” Wait, what the hell kind of compliment was that? Keep it together, Scott! “Y-you look great.”

Nailed it.

Kate’s beaming smile suggested that she hadn’t chosen wrong, at least. From the corner of her eye, Brooke spotted Julie finally stepping up to Richard to offer her hand.

“Julie Carson. I came to see Brooke off and wish her good luck.”

“Richard Marsh. It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Carson.” He smiled welcomingly at her. “If I may ask, how do you know Brooke?”

She grinned unashamedly. “If it hadn’t been against the law, I’d be her stepmother.”

“Oh,” Richard said, still shaking her hand.

Shaking her head in amusement at the display, Brooke looked back at Kate when she felt the other girl tug her sleeve.

“Could you help me finish packing?”

“Sure thing.” Brooke nodded, and the two of them went to walk inside, Kate leading her by the hand all the way.

As soon as she stepped into Kate’s room, Brooke felt herself hold her breath. The suitcase that was open on the bed wasn’t the one Kate had taken to the hotel; it was the one she’d left unpacked in the corner since she came back from Arcadia Bay, and it was empty now.

The drawings and letters, anything that could reasonably fit in a frame or be tacked up, hung from the wall in a surprisingly artful collage.

“Fuckin’ wowsers,” Brooke exhaled.

“I don’t think that one’s yours,” Kate observed wryly. “But apt, I guess. You like it?”

“It’s really sweet,” Brooke confirmed, walking up to trace her fingers over Daniel’s drawing. She shot a look back at Kate. “You really just took me up here to surprise me, huh?”

“Maybe,” said Kate with an impish look. “But I did want some help squeezing everything in the suitcase, too… Come on! Many hands make light work!”

What else could Brooke do but obey?

Max: Be there in 5 mins!!!

Brooke: bitchin. we’ll be ready.

The two of them finished up the last of their packing in short order. Brooke’s guest room was left just about bare, which she guessed was probably poetically appropriate in some way. There was a strange pang of nostalgia as she looked it over one last time. She never expected to miss it. Shaking her head, she turned her back on it and left.

They were soon bounding down the stairs with their bags in tow, the sound summoning Richard and Julie forth from the kitchen, where they’d been chatting and having tea while they waited. Trailing behind, determined not to be an afterthought, Kate’s sisters emerged too in order to say their farewells.

When they all came to a stop in the driveway, Brooke and Kate both relinquished their bags to allow the inevitable hugging to commence. Kate was swamped by her sisters first, who demanded all sorts of photos and souvenirs, which she promised them tearfully, but with a laughing voice. While they did that, Richard turned to Brooke.

“Brooke, I don’t really know where to begin…”

“You don’t have to apologize again,” she told him, smiling.

“I wasn’t going to! Though I did think of it…” He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled. “I just wanted to say what an honor it’s been, a privilege, and a joy to have you in our house.”

“Y-yeah?” Her eyes widened. She wasn’t prepared for this type of earnest send-off.

“The truth is, Brooke Scott… You humble me. You may not share our faith, but you have a good soul, and a gentle one. I suppose I wanted to say that… I trust Katie in your hands. I know you’ll treat her how she deserves.”

“Ah,” was all Brooke could say, dipping her head a little to hide a tear in the corner of her eye.

“It was cool having another big sister for a while,” Grace opined, having separated a bit from Kate. All three Marsh girls were smiling at her now, Lynn nodding in eager agreement.

“Family group hug?” Kate suggested innocently. Richard assented, stepping over to join the younger girls in hugging Kate again. Brooke, too startled, didn’t even see which one of them pulled her in, too.

Oh.

Oh.

Well, she guessed she shouldn’t feel ashamed for the waterworks beginning now. She felt far too happy, too blessed, too belonging for any of her usual sarcasm to stick.

Brooke had a family.

When she finally parted from the four of them, she wiped her eyes, then turned to Julie, who had been watching the entire thing with a charmed look. “Sorry, but you’re not escaping the sappiness, Julie…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said with a chuckle. Still, she was clearly a little surprised when Brooke closed in and gave her a big hug. She returned it after a half-second. “See you again soon, Brooke.”

“I hope you will.” Brooke pulled back, hearing a motor steadily approaching, and looked down the drive to behold…

“Holy crap. ”

“My thoughts exactly,” Richard said, dazed.

Brooke knew that the RV was pretty big and fancy, but she guessed she just didn’t know what a big and fancy RV really looked like. Everyone gaped as it came to a stop, and after a minute, a blue-haired figure slung herself halfway out the door.

“Gooood afternoon, Casa de Marsh!” Then, an afterthought, “Oh. Max, make sure you keep hold of–”

BARK BARK BARK, declared a blur zipping past Chloe.

“... Pompidou.”

Brooke watched the dog, some kind of shepherd mix, excitedly race around and sniff everyone’s legs, helpless to intervene. “ Pompidou? What sort of name is that?”

“Beats me,” Chloe said with a big shrug. “It was Frank’s idea, whatever it was.”

“Time out– time out. ” Brooke waved her arms. “I knew you were taking care of a dog, but you didn’t mention he belonged to the d–” Glancing at the Marshes. “That guy.”

Max poked her head meekly out of the RV at that point. “Oh, dog. I mean–” Pausing to recalculate. “Geez. Sorry, I didn’t get a good hold of him before the door opened.”

Chloe didn’t lose track of Brooke’s question despite the interruption. “We kind of found him wandering the ruins on our way out of town that day. And he looked sad, so…” A wry look over her shoulder. “First Mate Bleedingheart here stepped in.”

Max shrugged at her, unapologetic. “He’s a good puppy!”

Brooke looked skeptically at the very much grown dog. She had heard stories from other Blackwell students that Bowers’ dog was vicious, borderline rabid, but right now all she could see was him flopping over to show his belly for Grace and Lynn, who were delightedly petting him. Huh. “Sure looks that way.”

“Um, not to interrupt,” Kate said, but got no further, because Max gasped and bounded down for a better look.

“Whoa, Kate! That’s one heck of a makeover… You look great!”

Chloe followed at her usual, swaggering gait, grinning down at Kate. “Looking hella good, Cupkate…” Catching herself, she blinked and did her best to look abashed at Richard. “Uh, sorry for my language.”

He was busy letting Pompidou sniff his hand, but looked at Chloe to reassure her. “You’re fine.”

Though she blushed under the compliments and toyed with the end of her braid with her finger, Kate came back around to her question in the end. “I meant to ask. Are you sure this isn’t a bit much?”

“Trust me, the Bane of Arcadia II is just as big as she needs to be,” Chloe said. “It was too spacious for us on the way down, but for four girls and a dog? It’s just right.”

“Of course you called it that,” Brooke sighed. “This isn’t a pirate ship, it’s a friggin’ palace on wheels. Not that I can complain, I guess. Living in luxury, even on the road…”

“You’re going to love it,” Max said. “This trip is going to be so fun.” Then she whistled. “C’mon, Pompi!”

Pompidou bounded back from where he’d been getting scratched behind the ears by Julie, obediently trotting up to Max and leaning against her.

“Guess this is it,” Brooke said. “Time to board.”

“Time to start over,” Kate said quietly as she stepped up alongside Brooke, first handing her the bag she’d dropped, and then holding her hand.

“I’m looking forward to it.” Squeezing Kate’s hand, she led the two of them after their friends and the dog, stepping into the RV.

Soon it rumbled to life and pulled away, the Marshes and Julie waving as they went. Not very long after that, Lincoln City was far behind them.

Next stop: everywhere.

[ ♪ ]

Chapter Text

[ ♪ ]

Sunday, June 15th 2014 [ Brooke ]

Once upon a younger year

When all our shadows disappeared

The animals inside came out to play

Brooke’s “palace on wheels” comment proved more accurate than she first thought. Once inside the RV that had been dubbed Bane of Arcadia II, she spent the first few hours down the Oregon coast just marveling at the interior and getting used to the idea that she would be spending the next several months living in it.

The inside of the Bane was characterized by tan walls, a light brown floor in a hardwood finish, and black and dark red furnishings. Aside from a kitchenette and a bathroom, it had ample standing room, a sitting area that looked like it wouldn’t be out of place in an upscale house, and two distinct sleeping areas. When light passed through parted drapes on the windows, the entire thing looked golden. It was hard not to be awed by it – that and wonder just how much Prescott money was left over after Chloe bought this thing.

It took Brooke some time to get used to being in a place that looked like a house but moved beneath her feet, but by the end of the first day she’d pretty much gotten her “sea legs”, so to speak, and was ready for adventure.

Went face to face with all our fears

Learned our lessons through the tears

Made memories we knew would never fade

Brooke was currently in the sleeping area that had been designated for her and Kate, lounging on the bed with a new pair of headphones on. They’d started the morning in southern Oregon and had crossed the California border a little while ago, an occasion that had called for a roadside photo op at the “Welcome to California” sign. She had personally been a little worn out from all the excitement and had come right back here to nap and listen to some new Avicii music, a diversion which had been mostly uninterrupted for a couple of hours now.

Until Pompidou trotted in through the cracked door like a Brooke-seeking missile and nosed against her hand, startling her from her musings. She sighed and petted the happy dog on the head, prompting him to lay down and rest his head on the bed next to her lap.

Getting used to a dog had been another thing, but Brooke was getting by despite not growing up with any pets (bar a couple of ill-fated hermit crabs and fish). Pompidou was surprisingly well-behaved, and was obviously used to living in an RV. She guessed she was fond of him, and probably would be until he inevitably chewed up something of hers. No doubt it was only a matter of time.

Moments after Pompidou, somebody else stepped in, and this time Brooke smiled. Normally she wouldn’t pause a song right before the drop for anybody, but for Kate she’d make an exception.

“Hey you,” she greeted as she pulled her headphones off with her free hand, once again admiring the makeover Kate had surprised her with. She had always been beautiful, of course, but the freer hairstyle and more colorful clothes brought her beauty out even more. It was easy to get lost in mentally cataloguing all the differences, committed to memory one after another.

Brooke only realized she’d been distracted into spacing out through the first part of Kate’s response after Kate poked her in the shoulder.

“Thanks for the positive review,” she teased with a mischievous smile. Pompidou lifted his head to turn about and entreat Kate instead (the traitor), and she scratched behind his ears as they talked.

“Sorry for staring,” Brooke managed, a little sheepish.

“You can stare at me as much as you want, Brooke, I’ll never mind.”

Brooke coughed at that one. Kate giggled, then took pity on her by letting her off the hook to say something else.

“We’re about to make a stop, I just wanted to come let you know.”

“Could be nice to stretch my legs again,” Brooke admitted, sitting up. She reached out to absently rub Pompidou’s back. The lucky mutt was getting a double dose of attention right now. “How’s the mood out there?”

“Spirits are pretty high! Max has been happy watching the scenery go by, and Chloe was singing along with one of her road trip mixtapes. It was… um… interesting!”

Brooke could imagine. Having been treated to Chloe’s singing voice once or twice, she knew it was an experience that was difficult to forget. The dog finally lost interest in them and wandered out again, giving her an opportunity to turn and shift her legs off of the bed to face Kate properly. “Well, don’t worry about me staying in bed for the whole trip. I think I got the napping out of my system for now and I’m ready for some action.”

“That’s good. I kind of missed you out there.” Kate reached out to slip her hands into Brooke’s. Passingly, Brooke noted that the RV was slowing to a stop, but she didn’t pay it much mind.

“Oh. You did, huh? That’s good to know…” She smiled lopsidedly, meeting Kate’s eyes, which had a hint of playfulness. Brooke didn’t think she was very good at this flirting stuff, but Kate never seemed to fault her for her inexperience. She guessed they were both new at this.

“Well, if you wanted to start making up for it…” Kate started to say, before an interruption came their way.

“Alright lovebirds!” Chloe said as she strode down the length of the RV and rounded the doorway. At the sight of them holding hands, she smirked. “If I can tear you apart for a minute, I’d like to announce we’ve arrived in scenic Weed, California!”

“You just pulled us off here because you saw the name on the sign, didn’t you?” Brooke asked, her voice flat.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Chloe with a shit-eating grin.

“She called us lovebirds, Brooke,” Kate mock-lamented with an airy sigh.

“Shocker, she was our biggest cheerleader. Remember our hike back in February? She got me alone for a minute and shook me by the shoulders until some gay fell out, so I guess we have her to thank…” Brooke gave Chloe the evil eye nevertheless, not one to sit idly without returning fire. “What about your end of the bargain, Price? Still holding back on you-know-what with you-know-who?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes at Brooke, then called toward the front of the RV. “Hey Max, can you c’mere a second?”

Moments later, her faithful first mate heeded the captain’s call, unsuspecting as she came into view. “Yeah, Chlo–?”

Brooke and Kate watched as Chloe put her hand on Max’s lower back and surprised her with a nice, deep kiss… complete with a dip. When it broke off, Max’s fair Irish complexion was completely red, and she was mouthing something. Brooke was no lipreader, but she’d wager that it was ‘wowsers’.

“We talked it out a few weeks ago,” Chloe answered, smug.

“Well, thank God,” Brooke said, while Kate made a happy noise and excitedly clapped her hands.

Upon disembarking, Brooke noted that they’d stopped at a gas station just off the freeway, right by the archway proudly bearing the town’s name. Looking east, she whistled quietly at the cone of Mount Shasta, the dormant volcano’s slopes showing only a few traces of snow as summer drew near. “Tiny-ass town, but… the view sure is pretty.”

“I only stopped to fill the tank, but we can spend an hour or two just looking around if you guys want,” Chloe offered.

Brooke hummed and crossed her arms. “Well, I am pretty hungry. You can stock us up on convenience store snacks here, I’ll check for a good takeout place in town?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I think I’ll try and find a good spot to draw a quick impression of the mountain actually,” Kate spoke up, seeming quite excited. “I’ll just wind my way back and catch up with you all in a bit.”

“And I guess Pompidou will just look adorable as always,” Brooke finally tacked on.

Chloe shrugged. “Yeah, Max will keep him on a tight leash.”

Brooke raised an eyebrow at that remark. “Wasn’t Frank your friend, Chloe?”

“I mean, yeah, kinda. But that dog’s known me for too long to have any respect for me. Max, on the other hand, is a Disney princess and all animals love her on sight, him included.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Max said innocently, petting Pompidou while he laid tamely at her feet. “See you later, Brooke.”

With their tasks thus decided, the Fellowship was split, but only temporarily. Brooke followed the main street up into town, taking in what she guessed passed for its unique sights. Small towns were nothing new to her, but this inland setting was a lot different from Arcadia Bay or Lincoln City. Takeout options were also depressingly limited, but a Lao restaurant caught her eye.

She’d never had Lao food before, but she gathered it was a bit heavier and had stronger flavors than Vietnamese cuisine. Not that she’d had much of that either, since her mom was always a lousy cook and it wasn’t otherwise readily available in Arcadia Bay. She’d always found that disconnect with her parent culture kind of regrettable, but it wasn’t like she could complain about a good burger. Still, pho was dead easy, and she’d had plenty of that. The feu on the menu pasted on the window here sounded similar, so she guessed not everything was different.

After snapping a pic of the menu and texting it to the others, she decided to keep walking while they made up their minds. The sun shone down on her from a cloudless sky, and there weren’t many trees for shade, which was definitely a weird bit of culture shock, coming from the greenest part of Oregon. As she traced the blocks of the town by foot, she had to sweep her ponytail off of her neck because it was too darned hot.

It really was overdue for a trim, especially since it was almost summer and the four of them were planning to visit some desert climates, but lately she had preferred just not to think about it at all. The idea of committing to a new style made her a bit anxious, but not as anxious as it made her when people pointed out how long it was getting. Seriously, it was just a simple stylistic decision. Why did it make so many weird feelings twist up in her gut?

And of course, just as she thought about this, the fates contrived to put an answer straight in front of her. A barber shop among the lines of buildings, complete with one of those spinning red white and blue poles out front.

Sighing, Brooke stared the pole down with an accusatory air, as if it had popped up in her path on purpose as an act of spite. But the sun was still hot, and her resolve was flagging. After a long minute, she decided to be brave and finally do something about this. She knew the rest of the crew wouldn’t make up their minds about food all that fast anyway.

The stylist she ended up sitting with was a cheery, middle-aged woman who greeted her happily even though she was from out of town. As they worked together for a bit, Brooke saw her hair back to its original October length, but still felt a little weird looking at her reflection. So she went shorter, and shorter, until finally there wasn’t any hair left on her neck at all.

The result was a pixie cut of a sort, a bit on the messy side, though in the stylish way. Her hair was kind of thick, which gave plenty of volume to work with, and the stylist had. It was… really cute, but androgynous, too. Very much in alignment with the shifts in her wardrobe she’d been undergoing for several months already.

As Brooke stared at her reflection, she felt her heart sing with elation, relief, and a sense of rightness, and didn’t fully understand why.

“How’s that, hon?” the woman asked. “Good?”

“Yeah. It’s good.”

“Did you wanna redo your highlights?” she offered with a big smile.

Brooke found herself smiling back. “Yeah! Let’s do it.”

Some time later, Brooke returned to the Bane’s moorings at the Chevron gas station with a couple of large bags in tow. She saw that the others were already waiting, but figured that what she was bringing would make their patience worthwhile.

“Alright, I’ve got two coconut milk curries for the pirate duo, a khao jee pâté for Kate, and a bowl of feu for me. Sorry for the wait.”

“Hey, it’s Scott– whoa!”

She’d put Chloe on the back foot for once. Brooke couldn’t help grinning wickedly at that, even as the others reacted, Kate with her hands on her mouth and Max perking up excitedly.

“Oh, wow!” Max’s blue eyes were alight with amazement. And, as Brooke probably should have expected, her next reaction was to lift her camera and take a picture while Brooke was still looking bemused and holding bags of food.

“Someone come take these off me, my arms are tired,” Brooke complained. Once she did, Chloe rolled her eyes and walked over to do that. As the bags were relinquished, she noticed that Chloe hadn’t been the only one to walk up. Kate had also come over for a closer look, and was now staring.

“You cut it so short…”

“Yeah,” Brooke said, with a small nervous fluttering arising in her stomach. “Is that fine?”

“Better than fine. It looks… good.” Kate both looked and sounded astonished, reaching up to rake her fingers through Brooke’s hair.

Brooke definitely considered that a positive review. Slightly blushing, she remarked with a little smirk, “I couldn’t resist seeing how you’d react. And since your makeover was so nice, well…”

Kate blushed twice as hard when Brooke did that, realizing what she was doing. She withdrew her hand and backed up with a nervous giggle, while Chloe and Max, looking on, laughed.

“So it’s goodbye to the red highlights?” Max quizzed her. “There’s something a bit sad about that. They were kind of your signature.”

“All gone,” she confirmed with a nod. “This brighter blue is going to stand out against my natural color a little better than the navy blue did, I think.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ditch the blue too,” Chloe said, rubbing her chin.

Brooke shrugged at her and smiled. “What can I say? Girls with blue in their hair solidarity, right?”

“Right,” was the only response Chloe could seem to find as she pretended not to be touched by that callback, staring at her shoes.

Putting an arm around a still smiling Kate’s back, Brooke followed Chloe and Max back into the RV, their canine companion trailing along. If the rest of this trip was anywhere near as good for her as the first stop had been, Brooke thought she’d have a really great summer.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, June 17th 2014 [ Brooke ]

Brooke: hey, it’s past noon which means by my calculations you should finally have crawled out of bed.

Lee: By my calculations

Lee: 🤓

Brooke: fuck you lol.

Lee: Love you too

Lee: It’s only been three days so I’m guessing you want something

Brooke: yeah kind of.

Brooke: i need a sanity check.

Brooke: and i know we’ve literally already talked about this subject, but i want to make sure i’m not just imagining things, you know?

Lee: Steepling my fingers right now

Lee: Go on…

Brooke: so like.

Brooke: how do you know if you’re ACTUALLY nonbinary.

Brooke: like for real.

Lee: If you have to ask that question then you’re probably nb

Brooke: fuck

Brooke: got my ass i guess.

Brooke: i didn’t even see the typing indicator. just had that in the chamber huh?

Lee: Yeah I’ve kind of known for a while

Brooke: you didn’t tell me??

Lee: Yup… sorry

Lee: Didn’t want to violate the prime directive

Brooke: there’s ANOTHER prime directive???

Lee: Nobody asks that many questions about it and sounds that interested unless they’re a little queer in the ol’ gender

Lee: So I kind of clocked you right away

Brooke: is it possible to learn this power?

Lee: Not from a cis person

Brooke: ok… consider that externally verified.

Brooke: fuck.

Brooke: well, with that squared away, i need to figure a way to bring this up to my travel partners.

Lee: And your girlfriend which I imagine is kind of the most important part

Lee: Sorry but you know them better than me so I can’t help you there

Lee: They’re all gay as hell though so odds are they’ll be fine with it

Brooke: never underestimate my brain’s ability to concoct doomsday scenarios.

Lee: Consider me advised

Lee: Good luck Brooke

The text conversation was still running through Brooke’s head an hour later. Having stuck around the area for a couple of days now before their eventual jaunt down to Sacramento, the four of them were presently engaged in another hike, this time on the slopes of Mount Shasta. Gravelly volcanic soil crunched underfoot as they walked along between the pines, looking at wildflowers and distant animals as they went.

Logically, Brooke knew this conversation would go fine, but finding an actual opening to bring it up naturalistically – not to mention without succumbing to the jitters – was still a task in itself.

Well, they were in a bit of a quiet lull right now, weren’t they? Kate was once again looking adorable in outdoorsy gear, a seemingly permanent smile on her face that made Brooke’s heart swell with joy. Max and Chloe were barely a foot apart, though each looking in separate directions, enjoying the scenery and the quiet pleasure of each other’s company. Pompidou walked along freely, winding his way between the group, tail wagging – one happy dog. Nobody was talking.

So, all things considered, Brooke figured she could just… say it. Yeah. That would get it off her chest nice and fast, cut out some of the awkward lead-up, and–

“So, what part of the trip are you all looking forward to the most?” Max asked.

Oh. Or Brooke could spend so long thinking about it that she could miss the window of opportunity entirely. Sighing, she offered her two cents. “I’m interested to see the desert. That’ll be a whole new biome for me.”

“Me too,” Max answered excitedly. “That or San Francisco. I’ve always wanted to go.” She looked expectantly to Chloe, who appeared pensive.

“LA. I want to see if it’s really all it’s cracked up to be.”

“There are too many choices,” Kate said quietly, tapping her chin. “Maybe Chicago, though. It sounds like an incredibly lively city.”

“Too many choices is right,” Max murmured, wondering. “All things considered, the best part of this for all of us will probably just be the chance to have a good time. Just be normal girls for a while, you know?”

Hm…? Oh, wait. That’s an opening. Not allowing herself to overthink it for an instant longer, Brooke hurriedly interjected. “Um– right. About that…”

The other three all looked at her questioningly. “... Yeah, Scotty?” Chloe prodded when Brooke didn’t immediately follow up.

Put the spaghetti back in the pocket, Brooke… Put the spaghetti back in the pocket! “Um. I mean, you can all be normal girls and all, but–...” She ran her hand back through her hair, trying desperately to recapture something even a little bit casual for her demeanor. “What if I’m, like, not?”

Brooke thought she’d made a misstep when Kate’s eyes widened and she whispered urgently, “Brooke, are you going to tell them–?”

Huh? Oh, right. My ESP… “No, this is something I haven’t told you yet, Kate,” she hastened to say, waving her hands discouragingly. “I've been thinking on this for a little while, but I didn’t take it seriously until pretty recently. I think I’m– like– not a girl?”

The group slowed to a stop. Max and Chloe both raised their eyebrows, seeming to get the point, while Kate looked intently thoughtful, and perhaps a little bit confused. “How do you mean, Brooke?”

“See, that’s kind of the complicated part, because I haven’t figured out all the particulars yet.” She sighed. Going into anything when she didn’t know all the facts was her least favorite thing. “I don’t really like being feminine. I don’t think I fully figured that out until I tried something different for once, experimented with different clothing styles… or the haircut. In fact, I’m starting to think I prefer sitting on the more masculine side of the fence. And it feels so right to me, I– I think it has to mean something.”

The gears in Kate’s head still seemed to be turning. At least she didn’t look upset or anything. “Does that mean you’re a boy?”

“No, I don’t think so. I do still kind of identify with… girl-ness? I like being a lesbian, even though I basically just figured that out. So I guess I’m somewhere in the middle of the slider. I… Okay, I don’t really know if I’m doing this right, much less explaining it right.” Brooke rubbed her arm, self-conscious.

“That’s totally allowed, Brooke,” Chloe piped up. “Gender is hella bullshit, and you can mix and match whatever you like to make it feel right for you.”

“You sound like you have experience,” Brooke pointed out, curious.

“Kinda. When I was sixteen I questioned a bit. I still ended up deciding that I was a boring cis butch at the end of the day, but hey, I’m glad I explored.”

Brooke squinted, doing some mental calculus. “Butches are like, the lesbians who hold doors open for ladies, right?”

Chloe blinked at her and sighed. “I have a book by someone named Leslie Feinberg that I reeeeally need you to read…”

Before Brooke could question that, Max spoke up, smiling. “Well, I obviously don’t know as much about this stuff as you or Chloe do, but I’m glad you felt comfortable telling us, Brooke. Are you changing your pronouns?”

“I don’t think so,” she hedged. “At least not yet. ‘She’ is still fine with me.”

Kate had been a little quiet, but when Brooke looked her way, she smiled gently. “I can tell there’s still a lot of reading I need to do before I understand all of this, but you know I love you no matter what, Brooke. Don’t worry.”

“Did I look worried?” Brooke asked with an awkward laugh.

“A little.” She stepped up to kiss Brooke on the cheek, and the last of her worries disappeared.

“I’m pretty sure you could be a two-headed goblinoid and Kate would still be head over heels for you,” Chloe remarked as she resumed walking, the rest of the group following.

“That’s true,” Kate agreed with a giggle. By now, she and Brooke had linked hands again, which were swinging between them as they walked.

“It’s good to know that you’ll all still want me around if I undergo any horrendous mutations,” Brooke said dryly.

“You’d make a pretty cool Toxic Avenger,” Max mused.

Chloe snickered at the reference, then said, “Don’t worry, Scotty. We’ll be friends until the day you say something that really cheeses me off, like Star Wars being better than Trek or something.”

Everybody laughed at that, and a moment of silence elapsed. But Brooke, as usual, couldn’t just let something go. “Heh. I mean, it is, though.”

“No it’s not,” Chloe retorted, a more awkward chuckle under her breath.

Brooke stared at the back of her head. Squinted. “Well, it is. ”

“Yeah, sure. A bunch of popcorn movies, half of which aren’t even good, better than the most seminal, long-running sci-fi TV series ever. Good one.” Chloe was trying to keep her tone light, but Brooke could detect a narrowing of her eyes.

“Interesting point, considering half or more of Star Trek is borderline unwatchable.”

“Ohoho!” Chloe put her hands up and stopped, turning as she dropped them to place them on her hips. “Okay, that’s an exaggeration. Besides, that’s five whole series…”

“Six,” Kate mumbled under her breath, unheard by either.

“... and twelve movies’ worth of content, and never in all of that has Trek hit the same lows as Star Wars. No way!”

“Wanna bet? The Enterprise finale.”

“Still more watchable than The Phantom Menace …”

“Which racist episode should I pick out here? There’s an awful lot to choose from…”

“Uh, hello, Watto?”

“The fucking salamander episode.”

A cruel smirk spread across Chloe’s face. “The Holiday Special.”

“Ugh, fuck you, that’s not even canon! Besides, even if there are bum parts of the Star Wars trilogies, it’s still more consistent than Trek.” Brooke looked at Kate entreatingly. “Kate, I know you’re a Trekkie…”

“I prefer Trekker,” she said with a small hum.

“But consistency is important right?”

Now Kate smiled apologetically. “Um… I’m sorry, Brooke, but to be honest, I could never really get into Star Wars.”

Brooke clutched her heart (and Chloe cackled like a witch). “What? Why not?”

Kate looked away innocently, toying with the end of her braid with her finger. “It’s just got a sort of individualistic ethos…”

“An individualistic ethos?” Brooke echoed, confounded.

“It’s principally focused on the journey of individuals, ‘great men’, or I guess great individuals, whose actions shape history. Star Trek does have heroes with outsized personalities and influence, but they’re part of an ensemble, so it’s a bit different…”

“But Star Trek is like, basically a space age pioneer story,” Brooke pointed out. “It’s a spin on the American myth, exploring and colonizing the unknown. What’s more individualistic than that?”

Kate nodded back, smiling. She looked like she was having fun with this. How very dare she! “That’s a pretty good point, but in practice the discovery aspect is mostly setting flavor. It’s really more a series of rather weighty discussions about complex moral issues, which I really like. The Enterprise or Deep Space Nine are like civilizations in miniature, which are more collectivist than anything.” Then she hid her gaze shyly. “Plus, Star Trek feels a little more rooted in the real world and real scientific concepts. Star Wars, um… I don’t really consider it science fiction.”

Lightning could have smote Brooke dead right there on the slopes of the mountain and she would have been less thunderstruck than she was by that statement. “Betrayal,” she whispered weakly.

“There you have it Scotty,” Chloe crowed, putting a mocking inflection on the nickname this time. “And Kate said it smarter than I could’ve, too!” Then she turned her head to Max, who, along with Pompidou, had been observing the whole thing with a mix of amusement and horror. “What about you, Maximum Carnage? Want to join the dogpile, make this a supermajority?”

Once put on the spot, Max’s eyes widened in alarm. She smiled placatingly. “Uh… Really, I like both!”

“Well, duh, me too,” Brooke said, recovering.

“Yeah, same,” Chloe admitted. “But this isn’t the time for reconciliation! It’s supremacy, baby! Domination! Don’t sit on the fence!”

Max looked reluctant, but finally said, “To be honest? I kind of… like Star Wars a little more?”

“Ugh!” Chloe reeled. “I don’t know you anymore!”

“That doesn’t surprise me so much,” Kate said with a giggle. “I’m curious to hear your reasons, Max.”

“It’s just the emotional aspect of the story for me,” Max said, looking off somewhere else and messing with the neck strap of her camera. “Star Wars is more simplistic than Star Trek in a lot of ways, true, but the emotions and character arcs are really powerful. That makes the movies a lot more accessible for me.”

“Star Trek has powerful character arcs,” Chloe pointed out, pouting. “Like Data’s.”

Brooke loved Data to a frankly unreasonable degree, but wasn’t going to say anything, choosing to let Max twist the knife instead.

“I guess so, but it’s not as like… mythic, or as culturally impactful, you know? I think the success of the Star Wars movies are a point in their favor, too.”

“And the recent Star Trek movies have made like a billion dollars, so what?” Chloe protested.

“Only because J. J. Abrams basically made them into Star Wars movies,” Brooke pointed out, full of snark. “And now he’s making Star Wars movies for real, and they’re gonna be awesome.”

“I guess we’ll see about that,” Chloe said doubtfully.

“Plus, I don’t know if you want to point to those films. That last one basically pissed all over the legacy of an actual classic Star Trek movie. And, Benedict fucking Cumberbatch as Khan Noonien Singh? Seriously?”

Chloe looked like she wanted to argue, but stopped short. “... Okay, yeah, I admit that one is kind of indefensible.”

“I think we’re getting a little off track here,” Kate spoke up, having been giggling behind her hand. Brooke guessed the whole argument was kind of a game to her. “Why don’t we agree to call it a draw for now.”

“Maybe,” Brooke grumbled.

“Oh fine. Peace prevails, Cupkate… for now.”

“That’s a relief,” said Max with a little sigh.

“That was nothing.” Brooke shot Max a mischievous look. “Imagine if we’d been arguing about something really contentious – like who’s the best Enterprise captain? We would have never shut up.”

Chloe shrugged, smiling broadly. “Well considering you and Max apparently like your action stars, and Kate is such a fan of old-school sci-fi, I’m guessing we’d all agree that it’s–”

“Kirk,” she said, at the same time that Kate said, “Picard.”

… The two of them were giving each other a look all of a sudden. Brooke sensed that Kate wasn’t playing around anymore. Electricity was in the air.

She sighed and looked entreatingly at the heavens, resigning herself to a very, very long walk down the mountain.

Chapter Text

Thursday, June 19th 2014 [ Kate ]

Somewhere, at what felt like the very rim of the world, there was a glittering expanse of blue. Above it there stretched a thin band of gray, defiantly bearing countless vehicles on its back. Sky and land and sea all came together at one point, made possible by this seemingly impossible construction. Kate guessed that was why Brooke was saying something about suspension bridges being marvels of engineering next to her; she didn’t process half of it, too busy staring out the window as the gleaming skyline of San Francisco came into view.

All she could manage was an awestruck “Wow,” which sounded less intelligent by comparison, all things considered.

“Yeah,” Brooke finally concurred with a big smile. “Wow.”

They were seated by one of the RV’s windows as they crossed the Bay Bridge on its way into the city. It marked another intriguing stop on a journey that had already been so wonderful for Kate. Finally liberated from her mother in a way that felt somewhat permanent, she had been able to enjoy herself to a degree she hadn’t since…

Since how long? She thought she might have been a child the last time she felt this free and happy. It was a little disorienting, but at least Brooke was here to help her stay centered and enjoying the moment instead of fretting over the past.

Yes, Brooke, with her new haircut and new confidence that made her seem fully like herself for the first time in months, that suited her so perfectly, that kind of made Kate want to grab her by the cheeks and kiss her senseless…

She had to admire Brooke’s makeover; it was a definite hit, as far as she was concerned. Her own had apparently been a hit, too. The way Brooke stared at her with awe in her eyes ever since the update in Kate’s style made her feel both very wanted and very powerful. And… also made her want to grab Brooke by the cheeks and kiss her senseless.

A lot had made her want to do that lately, she reflected. She was familiar with the concept of temptation from her upbringing of course, but she had never really felt it like this before. Untethered from what had been forcing them to keep their budding relationship secret for two and a half months, Kate had to admit a bit of excitement about the prospect of making things more serious, if only to herself.

But Brooke had asked her to be patient, and Kate would do anything for her. So wait she would, and happily. They still cuddled – had been sharing a bed on the RV all week, in fact – and held hands, even if they had still never kissed. That was enough for now. She knew Brooke wasn’t going anywhere.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Brooke caught Kate’s unattentive look and flashed her a more sly smile than before. “You know there’s a bunch of new sights for you to boggle at?”

Kate returned that smile. “They can wait until we park. I like this one better.”

“Alright then,” Brooke mumbled, seemingly content, resting her cheek on her arms as she watched Kate watch her. They basked in each other’s company until the RV eventually came to a stop.

Upon emerging from the Bane, Kate greeted the beautiful summer day with a happy sigh, a warm breeze buffeting her yellow sundress. “San Francisco… I never thought I’d be here for real.”

“The City by the Bay,” Chloe pronounced grandiloquently with one hand on her hip, the other holding an enthusiastic Pompidou’s leash. “The Mecca of the gays…”

“You’re supposed to wear flowers in your hair, I hear.” That was Brooke, looking around with an attentive eye.

Kate laughed. “The Summer of Love was a long time ago.”

“But our summer’s just beginning!” said Max, leaning on Chloe as she stood next to her and surveyed their surroundings like Brooke was. “I think we can walk to the Golden Gate Bridge from here.” She flashed a little grin up at her girlfriend. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Chloe readily agreed, looping her arm in Max’s as they started off.

Kate allowed herself a private, fond smile at the sight. She had texted and called Max so many times during the months leading up to the trip, and had worried just as many times about her friend’s welfare. It was clear that their last week at Blackwell and the loss of Arcadia Bay had left deep marks on Max, ones that had been slow to heal with time. Max had not been forthcoming about the nature of these wounds, but Kate would never pry.

What was clear was that the blossoming love between Max and Chloe had been healing for her. Seeing Max happy truly was a balm for her soul. She hoped that this trip would be healing, too – for all of them.

Having disembarked in the Fort Mason area, the four had something of a long, uphill walk to see the famous bridge, but there was plenty on the way to keep them occupied. Particularly Pompidou, who was quite interested in the sight of other dogs being walked by their humans.

“Pompi, no!” Max scolded as he strained at his leash to yap excitedly at a passing poodle. Chloe managed to keep hold of him, and he soon settled into a more friendly sniffing and tail-wagging routine. Nevertheless, it added several minutes to their walk as he stopped to greet every other pooch along the way.

They spent some time admiring the Palace of Fine Arts, before stumbling upon the Lucasfilm Campus. Now it was Brooke’s turn to be like an excited puppy, and another diversion became necessary. “Please?”

“Of course we can stop,” Kate relented with a laugh, and with everybody seemingly in agreement, they stopped by to explore the lobby and look at the props and awards on display. After a quick phone selfie with the Yoda fountain out front, they were on their way again.

In the fullness of time, they found themselves at a good vantage among the hills overlooking the Golden Gate, already thronging with tourists. Kate ignored them all, her eyes glittering as she beheld the view.

For a good, long moment, the four of them let the view take their breaths away, the clear and fair conditions offering an excellent view. Past the green hills around them, the red steel of the bridge stretched from one shore to the other. A large freighter passed underneath it, but looked so small in the distance. Tiny white flecks which must have been seabirds blinked in and out of view as they flitted over the blue waters. It was like a slice of heaven.

“You okay?” Kate heard Max say, prompting her to turn her head, only to see that someone else was the addressee.

Chloe was rubbing underneath an eye. She gave Max a watery smile. “Yeah. Just... It’s finally real. We’re actually doing this. And this spot got me thinking, too. There was a photo that used to be in Joyce’s bedroom – her, when she was pregnant with me, kissing Dad in front of the bridge. It must have been near where we’re standing.”

Max took on a look of resolve. “Let’s make some new memories, then.” Though as she thought about it, she nibbled her lip in consternation. “... Might be more difficult to get a decent picture of all four of us with the bridge than that fountain, though.”

“Do they make selfie sticks for ancient Polaroid cameras?” Brooke wondered aloud, struggling for an answer to the conundrum.

“If they do, I don’t have one,” Max sighed.

Kate saw a more practical way of dealing with this issue. Scanning along the footpath nearby, she saw a couple, probably in their middle thirties, a man with light hair and a woman with a dark brown bob. They were pushing a stroller together; its occupant seemed to be sleeping. Smiling at the sight, she lifted her hand and caught their eye.

“Sorry to bother, but… could you take a picture of us?”

Brooke crossed her arms, a ‘Why the hell didn’t I think of that?’ look coming across her face.

The woman nudged her partner in the back, sly. “It seems like the young lady knows a shutterbug when she sees one.”

That made the man laugh softly in response. “Sure thing,” he said.

“You saved the day,” Max told him with a thankful sigh, then gingerly handed her camera over.

He took a second to inspect it, a nostalgic smile on his face. “Is that a Polaroid Spectra? I haven’t seen one of these since I was your age.”

“It was my dad’s,” said Chloe, wistful, even as she slung her arm around Max’s shoulders to get ready for the shot.

“Your dad had great taste,” he said.

“Yeah.” Chloe breathed out a small laugh. “In everything but music.”

Kate slipped her arm behind the small of Brooke’s back and led her into the huddle. With all four girls – and one dog, ears attentively perked – ready for the picture, the helpful man lined it up. Behind him, his partner leaned on the stroller, her chin in her hand as she watched him with a fond smile. He pressed the shutter with a click, and the moment was immortalized.

“Are you girls visiting the city?” he asked as he handed the camera and developing photo back to Max.

“Just for a couple of days,” Brooke responded, still glued to Kate’s side despite the photo op being past.

“It’s a great city,” the woman said as the man returned to her side. “You all stay safe and have fun!”

“Thanks,” Kate answered. “We will.”

Waves were exchanged, and then the girls (and Brooke, and Pompidou) were on their own again. As Max watched the photo mature, smiling, Brooke leaned in to look over her shoulder and commented, “Well, damn. That one’s a keeper.”

“It’s perfect,” Max agreed. “We look kind of awesome.”

“We are awesome,” insisted Chloe, reaching down to pat Pompidou as thanks for his good behavior. “We don’t need any photos or souvenirs to know that. Buuut… they are still nice.”

“We’ll make sure we have plenty to take home with us when it’s all said and done,” Kate chimed in, beaming. So many incredible memories laid ahead – she couldn’t wait to make them all.

Chapter Text

Friday, June 20th 2014 [ Brooke ]

Brooke squinted, tilted her head, and looked at the sight in front of her sideways, all in the hopes somehow making it make more sense. But no matter what she did, the thing remained the same. “It’s… it’s a tea kettle.”

That it was, tastefully photographed in a rain puddle somewhere next to a wall. Scattered sunlight fell over the perplexing scene, dappling the murky water. The print was blown up large on the wall, big enough to render every confusing detail clear.

“I think it’s a play on that saying – a tempest in a teapot?” Max speculated. “The puddle implies it’s just been raining. Like whatever was kept inside the kettle was released and blew up.”

“And now the sun is out. The storm has passed.” Kate sounded intrigued from where she stood on Brooke’s other side.

Brooke mulled all that over, then sighed, hands on her hips. “Okay. I officially don’t understand shit about art.”

That got a round of giggles from the others. Chloe was nowhere to be seen, having opted out of this visit to walk the dog around the block instead. Brooke couldn’t say she was getting much out of this visit to the famous Zeitgeist Gallery, but Max and Kate both seemed happy with it, so she was soldiering on.

“You don’t have to try engaging with it if you don’t want to, Brooke,” said Kate, smiling at her.

This made her roll her eyes. “I consider it foreign language learning. If I can keep up with you two when you go on one of your photography tangents at some indeterminate point in the future, I’ll be happy.”

“If it makes you feel better, I still have trouble following you and Chloe when you start talking about science things,” Max said.

“Maybe a little.” Then, after thinking for a second, she thumbed over her shoulder. “Can I sit? I’ve been on my feet for hours.”

Max nodded, shifting away from the print on the wall. “I might do that too, actually.”

“You two go ahead. I’ll keep looking around for a bit.” Kate gave them a little wave as they backed off to go take a seat at one of the benches in the middle of the gallery space.

“So,” Brooke asked Max as they settled in, “what’s it like seeing the photography big leagues for yourself?”

“I kind of did that already,” Max responded, laughing. “Victoria insisted we visit the Chase Space right after graduation. That was mindblowing! The place was so goddamn fancy that I felt like I was going to get arrested for scuffing the floor with my cheap-ass sneakers.”

“That wasn’t the same day as the infamous bar crawl, was it?”

Max’s cheeks colored at that and she averted her gaze. “Decline to comment.”

“Probably a wise answer.” Brooke smirked.

“Anyway. I kind of had a close brush with coming here? This was supposed to be the destination for the winner of the Everyday Heroes contest, but I never entered.”

“Oh.” That got Brooke to blink, thinking that over. “That’s freaky. I mean, probably a good thing you didn’t, all things considered? A trip out of state with Jefferson is the last thing I want to imagine…”

Max shivered at that. “Yeah… Still, the idea of having my work in a place like this…? Maybe that was a bit scary back then, but now I kind of like the sound of it. Though I’m not sure when I’ll be up to that high standard.”

“I’m a photo novice, Max, but I still know you’re more than good enough to be gallery-worthy.”

“Victoria says the same thing sometimes,” Max mused, avoiding the point.

“Yeah, and she’s smarter about this stuff than me, so you know it’s true.” Brooke watched Max – still kind of looking like she wanted to shrink in on herself – and leaned forward expectantly. “Someday soon, it’ll be your photos up on that wall. I guarantee it.”

Max met Brooke’s eye again and smiled shyly. “... Thanks. Really. I hope you’re right about that.”

“Anytime, girl.” Brooke settled back again, crossing her arms. She looked off to the far side of the gallery, where Kate was walking from exhibit to exhibit, scanning them all with rapt attention. “Kate seems so much happier.”

“It’s all thanks to you,” said Max. Brooke thought she detected a trace of pride in her quiet voice.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not all me. She’s probably glad to be out from under her mom’s wing.”

“That is kind of thanks to you, though. I think you gave her the courage to finally do it.”

That gave Brooke pause for thought. A small part of her had wondered for the last little while if she had actually screwed things up by creating a wedge between Kate and Mrs. Marsh, but… no, logically she knew that it wasn’t her fault. That relationship had been beyond saving.

“I… guess you’re right. It’s just kind of an intense change. And… seeing it makes me really happy, too. I don’t really know how to deal with that sometimes. I’m kind of accustomed to being grumpy, you know?”

“Brooke, that’s not a bad thing.” Max poked her in the shoulder. “My whole spiel about Kate flying free applies to you too. You’re both making a decision for yourselves and living how you want to for the first time. I think that’s pretty awesome.”

“True…”

“And you’re doing it together. Which I’m guessing you’re extra happy about.”

Brooke tried to force a frown, but her treacherous lips wouldn’t let her; she grinned instead, looking away. “Oh shut up.”

Max only allowed herself a teasing smile for a second before looking earnest again. “Seriously though, I’m glad about it too. I’ve got to admit, even back during the week from hell, I thought you two might make a cute couple.”

“It seems like everyone did,” Brooke noted wryly. “I guess everyone was right. Not that I can complain. It’s all been sort of crazy trying to navigate it, but… nice. Really nice.”

They shared another grin at that, before their attention lapsed. Kate was talking to a tour guide some distance away, looking adorably animated. Brooke quietly envied the way that Kate had such an easy time talking to people. It seemed like she could relate to anybody if she tried hard enough. Would those people skills ever rub off on her? But before her mind could wander too far, she glanced sideways at Max and asked her a question.

“What about you? Are you happier?”

Brooke saw the way Max momentarily froze and fretted over the answer, which told her all she needed to know, really. The smile Max returned after a second looked like a false one. “Yeah. This trip has been great so far, and getting out of my parents’ house is a plus. And sorting things out with Chloe…”

“And… you feel weird because despite all that, you’re still kind of messed up by what happened.” Brooke tilted her head. “Right?”

The false smile fled again. “I guess I’m pretty transparent, huh?”

“I just know you too well at this point,” Brooke said, offering Max a small nudge with her elbow in the hopes of reassuring her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hesitating, her eyes hooded with something – fear? – Max stared at the marble tiles of the floor and wrung her hands in her lap. “... A lot of messed up stuff happened, Brooke. Even more than you know about.”

Brooke wondered how that could be the case. She had been with Max for a big chunk of that week, and they saw some pretty insane shit together. What had she missed in the blank spaces?

Max went on, heedless of her wondering. “And it’s just… kind of hard to pretend to be a normal girl after all that. I want to be happy, I want to keep up with the rest of you. But it’s more difficult than it ought to be.”

Huh. That’s… uncomfortably familiar territory. The chattering crowd continued to mill around, ignorant to the private drama transpiring here. Brooke frowned and thought hard about what to say next, before reining back on her curiosity and deciding instead to do her best to help Max.

“... I totally didn’t tell you and Chloe about this, but maybe I should have.” She braced her hands against her knee, thumb tips idly circling one another. “I had this super bad panic attack back in March. Like, hyperventilating, on the ground, actually thought I was dying bad.”

“Holy shit,” Max exclaimed, her eyes widening. “What caused it?”

“A thunderstorm,” Brooke answered. She saw Max wince and knew she understood why. “And I felt pretty damn low after that. I wanted to make it through Lincoln City, figure out how to have a normal life, without troubling anybody about all this twisted up shit in my head. That taught me that, well… I couldn’t. Not if I didn’t want to explode in the process.”

Max slowly rubbed her hands together as if trying to warm herself up. “... I’m glad you told me, then. If we run into a thunderstorm along the way, we can help you out. Turn the stereo up, give you my noise canceling headphones or something.”

“I appreciate that,” Brooke said honestly. “I want to help you out too, Max. You’re one of my best friends. So don’t shut me out, okay?”

The words sank in, and Max lifted her head, her demeanor slowly shifting. “I–...”

Kate’s return interrupted whatever she was about to say. “Alright, I’m ready to–… Hey… Is something wrong?”

Brooke guessed they both had been looking pretty serious. She flashed Kate a quick smile. “We were just talking about some stuff.”

“Nothing bad,” Max hastened to add, adjusting her bag strap in preparation to move. “Trying to help each other out, is all.”

They both traded a last smile at that, before Brooke allowed Kate to help her up by the hand.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Kate gazed fondly at Brooke, still keeping hold. “It’s just about time for our evening plans, right?”

“Just about,” Brooke said, unable to restrain her excitement.

Beside them, Max laughed softly. “Have fun, you two. I’ll catch up with Chloe and Pompi. We’ll have a movie night or something.”

As they parted ways, Brooke couldn’t help looking over her shoulder to watch as Max walked the other way. Unanswered questions lingered in her mind for some time after.

So this was it. Brooke and Kate’s first actual, official, public date as a couple. After so many “hangouts” and “friend dates” and “totally-not-a-dates” over the course of their acquaintance, it was kind of a trip to actually go into this with intent, to be out in the public eye as… girlfriends.

As Brooke glanced around the cute bookstore they found themselves in, she was hard pressed to find anything immediately different with the experience, however. She scanned the shelves, watched the people come and go, and glanced at Kate.

“So, like… we have a lot of books on the RV already, right?”

“That’s true,” said Kate, shuffling from shoe to shoe with an innocent look.

“Probably enough to tide us over for the whole trip, considering we’ll be busy with other stuff.”

“Most likely…”

“So it would be kind of silly of us to dive into the stacks here and find a bunch of new books… right?”

“Right.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, before matching grins spread helplessly across their faces.

“Science-fiction section first?” Brooke asked.

“Definitely!”

Dive in they did. Soon they were seated in a reading nook deeper in the shop, Kate’s legs hanging across Brooke’s, engrossed in their own literary worlds. They spent a long while like that, and ended up almost missing their dinner reservation. Brooke couldn’t say she regretted it.

Not long after, they found themselves seated together at a small glass table, two candles warmly glowing between them. From their patio vantage, they had an awesome view of the San Francisco skyline, cast in orange and purple by the setting sun.

It had been an expensive view, and one with a bit of a wait involved; Brooke had to call the reservation in well before leaving Lincoln City just to make sure it would coincide with their visit. She still thought it was worth all the trouble, though, considering how perfect the venue was – and how special the occasion.

“I keep expecting someone to come tell us we shouldn’t be here,” Kate confessed with a giggle, leaning her cheek into a hand. “This feels too rich for my blood.”

“I know what you mean.” Brooke pushed her straw around in her water glass, smiling. “Hey, it’s gorgeous out, there’s a whole crowd up here. Nobody’s gonna notice if we don’t belong.”

Kate shifted to reach across to hold Brooke’s hand upon the table. “That’ll be a nice change.”

“Yeah. It will.”

Their eyes lingered on each other after that, until their server strode up. She smiled at the two of them and clicked her pen. “Are you girls ready to order?”

Kate reluctantly withdrew her hand from Brooke’s as she looked up to give her order. “Lobster bisque for me, please.”

“I’ll have the sea bass special.”

The server nodded and took their menus away, leaving them to themselves again.

“... All things considered,” said Kate, “it’s a shame we couldn’t try anything from the wine list.”

True. Brooke thought all those super fancy vintages would make the bottle Kate had kept hidden behind her dresser seem like pisswater by comparison. Alas, no business as swanky as this one would overlook their ages to give them a chance to taste it. “Old enough to vote or go to war, not old enough to drink.” She rolled her eyes. “Sparkling water will be fine for now, I guess.”

“There is some liquor on the RV, at least?”

“Yeah, but Chloe prefers that gut-burning shit. She got me to try this bourbon she stole from her stepdad once, it almost made me cry…”

Kate laughed at that. “Well, we’ll scare up something lighter for you sometime.”

After nodding gratefully, Brooke let her thoughts wander away from the subject of alcohol for a moment and to the more important matter at hand. “So, uh…” She struggled for a topic, before sighing. “Okay, we kind of spend almost every waking moment talking to each other, so I’m not sure what dinner talk to default to now that we’re here. How are you supposed to do this date thing?”

“Sadly, if there’s a guidebook, I’ve never read it,” Kate said apologetically. “This is also my first actual date ever, so I don’t have experience to draw upon.”

“That makes both of us. I guess we should just… be ourselves?”

“I’d never want you to be anyone else, Brooke.” That smile… God, it just made her melt every time. “Let’s try talking about something we haven’t talked about very much before. Something like video games?”

Oh! Brooke perked up at the introduction of one of her favorite subjects. “Yeah! There’s a lot to talk about there. From what I gather, your mom never really let you play them, right?”

“She was convinced that Pokémon was satanic. You tell me,” Kate responded dryly. “I only ever got to play games like… oh, what is it called? You could play as this little red guy and a load of other strange characters, and there were a bunch of party games?”

“Mario Party?”

“No, not that, it wasn’t Mario. I think he was some kind of marsupial creature. A wombat?”

Brooke blinked, then barked out a laugh. “That’s Crash Bandicoot. You’ve played Crash Bash but not Mario Party? Seriously?”

Kate tilted her head upward defiantly. “I’m sure I didn’t miss out on anything. Mr. Bandicoot and his delightful friends were more than adequate for my video game rebellion purposes.” Then there was a shy smile in that mock-defiance’s place. “Besides, my friend Mary’s family only had a PlayStation. I would sneak a few playing sessions with her during sleepovers, but I didn’t get to play many games, or for very long.”

“Bummer,” Brooke muttered. “Well, we can fill in the gaps in your experience a bit. Why did you ask? Just want to know what games I’m into?” She got a small nod in response, which told her that it was safe to open the floodgates. Brooke took a breath and got into it. “Well, I love racing games. Probably my favorite genre, though there are a couple others that come close…”

She became more animated as she got into it, gesturing while she talked. Which is where she got quite carried away, talking about the depth of RPGs, her various exploits with first-person shooters, and other topics before she realized how long Kate had been quiet. She stopped herself, self-conscious. “Sorry, I uh. I was kind of rambling there, wasn’t I?”

But Kate dissuaded her concerns with a full, affectionate smile, shaking her head. “When did you ever get the idea that I don’t like hearing about the things that interest you? I love seeing you excited. Besides, I’m asking for a reason. Is there a game that you’d consider an absolute favorite?”

The reassurance got Brooke blushing. The question, however, put her on the back foot, and she had to think about it hard for a moment. “All things considered? Maybe World of Warcraft.”

“That’s an online game, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, an online role-playing game. It takes place in a world called Azeroth, where two factions called the Alliance and Horde have been at war on and off for years. I’ve never been super into the story, though. It’s more the huge explorable world and the interactions with other players that really make it special.”

“So, you like it so much because you made a lot of friends through it?”

“I guess so.” Brooke leaned back in her chair and gazed off toward the skyline again. She hoped her guildmates were doing alright. “They were just people I spent time in the game with, really. But they were cool. Every time I logged into WoW, there was some new adventure waiting, and it was usually because there was somebody there to make it interesting.”

“That does sound really special,” Kate said quietly. “Do you think you’ll play it again?”

“Oh. For sure, after the trip is over at least. We’re not liable to have decent Wi-Fi access for more than a couple days at a time right now. And besides, my laptop probably can’t run it.”

“Too bad… Well, when the trip is over, you’ll have to try and introduce me to some of these games you like.”

“Really?” Brooke thought she felt faint. A gamer girlfriend? Be still her beating heart.

“Yes really! I’m curious to try some more games out now that I can.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’m sure I can find new ways to overanalyze your favorites.”

“Oh, well, that’s a given…”

The server chose that moment to return. “Here you are, ladies. Lobster bisque and the sea bass special…”

They both gave their thanks as the plates were set down. Brooke paused for a second as her eye took notice of two women lingering near the edge of the patio, closer to the restaurant building proper. They were eyeing her and Kate suspiciously, whispering to each other. Whatever. This is gay old San Francisco. If they don’t like seeing two women on a date, they can suck it.

Putting them out of mind, she cut into her fish and finished her thought from before. “I’d be happy to, Kate. I’m sure I can find some games you’d vibe with.”

This answer seemed to delight Kate, who lit up, mindlessly stirring her food with her spoon. “I’ll trust you to know my tastes, then. Is there some way we can play on the road without needing an Internet connection?”

“Yeah, I could track down a handheld game device at a used game store before we leave the city. I’ve been meaning to replace my Vita since I lost it in the storm…”

“Hey,” came a sharp voice, accompanied by the scuffle of shoes on the patio tiles. “Are you Brooke Scott?”

“Who’s ask–...?” She turned and was perplexed to see the two women who had been watching them from afar. One, a mean-looking blonde, had her arms tightly crossed and was staring Brooke down, while the other, a girl with curly brown hair, had her phone out. “Look, would you mind leaving us alone? We’re just trying to have dinner.”

“We know the truth about you.”

“... You’re going to have to be more specific.” Brooke was already fed up with this, and not really interested in what their game was. She searched the patio, but the server was nowhere to be seen.

“Smile,” the one with the phone chimed smugly. “You’re on camera.”

The blonde pressed the attack before Brooke could find a snarky reply for that. “How much money was it? Was it worth sending an innocent man to prison?”

“Innocent man? Are you talking about Mark Jefferson?” She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “What are you, his groupies or something?”

“We’re fact finders. Mark Jefferson is a brilliant artist and a great man. He’s wrongly accused.”

“So, conspiracy-brained Reddit users. Great. I’m gonna repeat myself: can you get lost?”

“Not until you admit what you did!” insisted the one with the phone.

“I didn’t do shit. Your pedo idol got himself sent to federal prison all on his own, and that’s the truth.”

“Brooke,” she heard Kate whisper shakily, and immediately the fight went out of her. Looking across the table, she saw Kate’s head bowing as she shrank away from the reminders of Jefferson that the argument was bringing up. No – it wasn’t that. It was that fucking phone camera.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I’m not letting Kate be in another viral video. Not on my fucking life. Stomping out her desire to run rhetorical circles around these idiots, she shifted her focus to getting them out of this situation. Other patrons were staring in bewilderment, and it was to them that Brooke looked first. “Can someone help? Please? These people are harassing us.”

At another table, an older gentleman whispered something to the lady sitting across from him and slowly stood up, wandering over to address the two troublemakers. “Pardon me, ladies, but everyone here is just trying to enjoy their dinners, could you please…?”

Dissatisfied with Brooke’s sudden reluctance to respond, the ringleader raised her volume to shout at her, ignoring the man’s attempts to intercede. “What does the FBI have on you? What are they giving you to stay silent? We want to know!”

“Ladies! Please!” The man continued his futile attempts to sway them. But just when it seemed like things would go from bad to worse, their server finally bustled back out of the restaurant, followed by a tall, unsmiling man with a bald head and broad shoulders. He wore a security badge.

“I’m sorry,” the server said sharply, despite sounding anything but as she glared at the conspiracy nuts, “we’re going to have to ask you to leave immediately.”

“The truth is going to come to light!” the blonde chick exclaimed, even as she backpedaled away. Soon, she and her friend were running at full pelt away from the restaurant and out into the streets of San Francisco.

As soon as they were gone, Brooke’s shoulders slumped and she buried her face in her hands to take a few much-needed breaths. She pulled herself together after a second to look across at Kate, who seemed to be recovering, though she still looked a bit jumpy. “Hey. We’re going to be okay.”

Kate nodded, sniffling quietly as she tried to take a nice, deep breath of her own.

Brooke looked up at the older man first to tell him, “Thank you.”

His expression was sympathetic. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, young lady. Some people these days, I swear…”

As he returned to his table, the server caught her attention; she looked borderline frantic. “We do our best to make our guests feel safe and welcome here. I’m sorry… If there’s anything we can do, don’t hesitate to ask. Thomas here will be staying out on the patio until you’re both done with your dinner.”

“I appreciate that,” Brooke answered, feeling a little listless but ready to just nod along and move on.

“And if those girls bother you after you leave, definitely call the police. That behavior is not okay…”

As if Brooke needed someone else to tell her that. Once the server left, she reached across to Kate, who was staring into her slowly cooling bisque. At the sight of Brooke’s hand, she blinked and looked up, smiling wanly as she took it to hold.

“I’m okay. Really. Thanks for doing what you could to chase them off.” A shadow passed over her eyes and she glanced toward the street, as if expecting another threat to emerge. “I… guess we’ll just have to deal with people like that from now on.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Brooke said with feeling. “We’ll chase them off as many times as it takes.”

Kate smiled, then drew her hand back to hold her spoon. “Okay. They spoiled my appetite a bit, but… this was really expensive, right?”

“I’d rather not say…”

That got a very small laugh from Kate. “Well, I won’t waste it then.”

Brooke decided to follow her example.

Their last stop for the evening found them walking under the trees of Golden Gate Park. Fairy lights in the branches lit their way, Brooke’s arm around Kate’s shoulders. They were walking slow and close.

“Sorry the date didn’t go exactly how we planned,” Brooke murmured to her girlfriend, some resentment for those two losers still smoldering in her chest.

“I still had fun for most of it,” Kate soothed her, bumping her head gently against Brooke’s. “You tried so hard to give me a memorable evening. That makes me so happy…”

The path they were proceeding down led to a small garden. Colorful flowers were illuminated by the lights, their petals closing up in the balmy night. Brooke wondered what it would look like in the daytime. The two of them stopped among them; there was nobody else around.

“Brooke,” Kate spoke into the momentary silence, pulling away from her enough to let her see her smile. “Can I kiss you?”

Brooke’s heart did a flip. Holy shit! “Um… Yeah! Yeah, of course… I’d like that.”

“Great,” Kate breathed, looking a little nervous herself, though there was no disguising her excitement. Her eyelashes fluttered shut and she took a steadying breath, angling her head a little closer to Brooke’s.

Okay, Scott. This is… This is happening for real! Don’t overthink it. Just lean in, put your lips on hers and… do whatever feels natural.

She leaned forward, trying not to shake with anxiety but just ending up feeling a little boneless as a result. She was close enough to feel Kate’s breath now.

Funny. I thought for the longest time that my first kiss would be with Warren. I thought I had all the time in the world to work up to it. But…

Memories struck her, as if unearthed by that unpleasant encounter earlier. Seeing Warren for the last time under the light of two moons. Fear of death. The junkyard. Warren trying to be a hero… because of her. Because of her.

And the flash of guilt that went through her then was so intense, so blinding, that she felt herself rip away from Kate before their lips could ever touch. She was hyperventilating.

“Brooke?” Kate asked in a small, fearful voice.

“S–... sorry. Sorry. I… don’t know what came over me,” Brooke lied. “I don’t think I can do this right now. I’m… not ready yet.”

Kate reached up to stroke her cheek reassuringly. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s fine not to be ready. We have all the time in the world.”

Staring into the face of the girl who she was letting down, Brooke could only hope that she was right about that. Time had a funny way of running out on her.

Chapter Text

Monday, June 23rd 2014 [ Kate ]

Everything had led up to this moment. Every minute decision, so small moment by moment but building up block by block to a consequential whole, had brought her to this point, this dramatic conclusion. Kate felt an intense concentration come over her as she saw her opening – and went for it.

The I-shaped tetromino slid into place, clearing every remaining row. The level was complete. Kate breathed out a sigh of relief.

She was grateful that Brooke had made good on her idea of buying a gaming device for them before leaving San Francisco. The long hours heading down the Pacific Coast Highway were certainly made more tolerable by all the good company, but having something extra to do didn't hurt. Although Kate wasn’t sure exactly what “custom firmware” was, the speed with which Brooke had loaded it onto this PlayStation Vita was still a little impressive. She had just been exploring the contents of the Game Boy emulator ever since.

Thinking of Brooke made Kate lift her gaze from her victorious round of Tetris. Just a short distance from where Kate was sitting on a bean bag chair in the main cabin of the RV, Brooke was seated at the kitchen table, looking out the window with her chin in her hand.

Unseen, Kate watched her for a minute, quietly admiring how handsome Brooke looked even when she was just staring into nothing. Though it was a little hard to appreciate the moment considering the anxiety that had been rolling off of Brooke in waves ever since their date.

Brooke hadn’t said much about it, but it was easy enough for Kate to figure out on her own that Brooke felt bad about backing off from the kiss at the end of the evening. Kate had told her it was fine a few times, but it seemed like she had been having trouble believing it.

I wish you knew that your company was more than enough for me, Brooke… And Lord, if you’re up there? Please, give me a sign that she’ll be okay?

Brooke sneezed.

… Okay, that isn’t exactly what I had in mind, but thank you.

“Bless you,” she said aloud with a small smile.

“From you I’ll take that benediction,” replied Brooke, returning the gesture. “Having fun over there?”

“A bit. Mostly I’ve just been fixated on Tetris for the last few hours…” She was sure Korobeiniki was going to be stuck in her head forever. Maybe she should surprise Brooke with a violin cover?

“You’ve just taken your first step into a larger world,” Brooke intoned solemnly. There was a twinkle of happiness in her eyes.

“Are we almost there?” Kate asked, powering off the Vita and setting it aside.

“Probably. I see a city passing by out there, so I’m guessing we’ve hit the LA metro.”

Kate stood to walk up to the still sitting Brooke, and gave her a big hug. Her girlfriend blinked, chuckled, and returned it with one arm.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun,” Kate promised her. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Worried? Who’s worried? Next time we get hassled, I’m siccing Chloe on them.”

“Hey,” Chloe called back from the driver’s seat. “There’s only one dog here and it’s not me.”

Pompidou showed no signs of removing his head from Max’s lap where she sat in the passenger seat, despite his being called out.

Chloe went on. “... That being said, I’ll totally open up a can of Chloe-fu on anyone for you, Katie.”

“Please never say ‘Chloe-fu’ again,” Brooke groaned.

“No promises. Anyway, we’ll be parking in a minute. Look alive!”

Having departed the Bay Area that morning and followed the coast all day, the crew found a beautiful evening waiting for them in Santa Monica. The setting sun cast fiery colors across the sparse clouds, and the temperature was perfect, a breeze steadily rolling in off the Pacific to kiss their faces.

Kate knew that Santa Monica Pier was big, but just knowing the fact couldn’t prepare her for the reality. It was like a little world all in itself, thronging with excited people, full of foreign smells and bright colors. The rides dwarfed her. She felt her hand slip into Brooke’s subconsciously as they took it all in together.

“Do you guys want to split up?” Max asked. Chloe looked wistful and inattentive beside her, letting Max speak on her behalf. “Me and Chloe are going to need to keep an eye on the dog anyway…”

“Sure,” Brooke agreed with a small shrug. “We’ll just link up after a bit? I’m sure we can find something to do all together without leaving Pompi out of it.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Max, Chloe and Pompidou peeled off to find their own way around the pier, leaving Kate and Brooke to their own devices.

Brooke turned to her, hints of giddiness on her face. “Does this count as our second date?”

“It might,” Kate replied, her expression matching Brooke’s. “Do you want it to count?”

“Count as another chance to spoil you rotten, you mean? Hell yeah I do.”

Kate could only let herself be dragged along with a pleased gale of laughter. Well, if Brooke insisted, then she was only too happy to play along.

They took in the sights as they went, all the gawking tourists, open shop stalls, and buskers performing, but it wasn’t until Brooke set her sights on a stand with a colorful array of merchandise that the pair slowed to stop.

“Pop the balloons! Pop the balloons and win a prize!”

Eyeing Brooke sidelong, Kate didn’t know whether to be amused or startled by the look of intense concentration suddenly on her face. Brooke shot a smirk her way and then marched up to the balloon challenge.

Somehow, Kate had thought Brooke was joking about spoiling her rotten. She was forced to second-guess that notion when Brooke popped all the balloons perfectly on the first try and handed her a plush rabbit from the prize stand.

“Ah… um… thanks?”

“Hold on, I bet I can do another.”

Another stop. A stack of bottles felled with one precise throw. An eagle plushie, joining the first item in a bewildered Kate’s arms. It all happened so fast that Kate almost didn’t realize that it was about to repeat for a second time.

A perfect score in skeeball. A stuffed doe. Kate began to doubt if she’d be able to carry all of this. Just when she thought she was well off, Brooke finished her streak off by pulling a butterfly out of a crane game with what looked like incredible ease.

Now carefully swaddling all four, Kate fixed Brooke with a fishy stare and asked the obvious question. “Brooke… are you using your powers to cheat at carnival games?”

The look of innocence was far too strained to be believable. “No?” But when she realized that she wasn’t fooling Kate, Brooke just shrugged at her. “Maybe a little bit.”

“That is a little unfair to the other visitors, isn’t it?”

Brooke sighed. “Okay, true, but it’s not all that bad at the end of the day. I only took one prize each, and I think I have it out of my system now.”

Lest Brooke assume she was actually mad, Kate gave her a small smile. “I appreciate you going to lengths to heap gifts upon me, but you don’t really need to.”

“But they’re so cute though.” Brooke leaned over and poked the stuffed bunny on the nose. “Plus, I’m pretty sure there’s room for them on the bed with us.”

“Space wasn’t my main concern,” Kate responded, amused. “But it’s good to know you give so much careful thought to our sleeping arrangements.”

As she predicted, that made Brooke blush. Kate grinned, satisfied, before continuing to walk, leading the way down the Pier. They spent those minutes in silence, but the comfortable sort, utterly at ease with each other’s company. With Kate’s hands occupied, Brooke just kept one of hers resting lightly on her elbow, making sure they didn’t get separated in the crowd.

When they saw the line to the ferris wheel was open, there was really only one choice they could make. Brooke waggled her eyebrows at Kate, got a nod of approval back, and soon the two of them boarded one of the pods. Kate gazed out the window as they ascended, the lights of the Pier receding below melding into those of the city beyond. Sighing quietly, she considered how far they had come in just the week since their departure.

“... I have been working on my powers more actually,” Brooke noted after a few minutes of quiet. “It comes a little easier to me now. I’ve also been trying to get the knack of seeing further into the future.”

Kate tilted her head, watching Brooke’s face. “At the start of the year, you didn’t sound so sure about it. Almost like you wished they’d go away.”

“I was conflicted,” Brooke corrected her. “But it’s not like they’ve gone anywhere. At the end of the day, I guess… if I have them, I need to understand them, what they can do, and what they can’t. What they mean for me. How I can help people.”

Kate found herself liking that answer. It was a pretty mature and measured one, and she felt a little bit of pride, warm in her chest. “How’s the progress, then?”

“Eh… Still inconsistent. Some things give themselves up more easily than others, and I don’t really know why. I’m pretty sure the Patriots are going to win the next Super Bowl, but I can’t see who’s going to win the World Series this year even though that’s sooner. Probably something to do with the uncertainty principle, I need to brush up on my quantum mechanics again…”

“It’s so weird hearing you talk about sports,” Kate said, laughing.

Brooke rolled her eyes. “I still don’t really care about them, but they are pretty easy to test predictions for. It worked on the Stanley Cup a couple of weeks ago.”

“Well, that’s promising. What’s the furthest thing you’ve seen so far?”

A tiny smile stole across Brooke’s face. “I saw next New Year’s Eve.”

“Oh,” Kate said, unable to hide her amusement. “One of our favorite days.”

She guessed that Brooke was also thinking of their almost-kiss six months before, since she blushed again. “Yeah. I’d say so.”

“Would it be spoiling too much if I asked for details?”

“There wasn’t much to it,” said Brooke with a shrug. “Fireworks were going off. I think we were in Chicago. We were… happy.”

Kate hummed softly. “Happy together with you, six months from now? I don’t think I need to know any more than that.”

Brooke reached over to take her hand, and together they watched the world from above, content. For the first time since San Francisco, Brooke seemed at peace.

Later that night, the RV was parked by the beach just outside of the city. Chloe had lit a bonfire on the sand, and the four of them each had their own blankets to lay on as they basked in the warmth of the fire. Max was idly plucking notes on her guitar. The sky overhead was clear, and despite their proximity to Los Angeles, there was enough light here on the outskirts to make out some constellations.

“That’s Cassiopeia over there,” Brooke said, pointing.

Kate squinted up at it. The constellation reminded her of the letter ‘M’. “I think I’ve seen that one before.”

“It’s visible for most of the year and never sets, so that’s no big surprise. You weren’t a Girl Scout or something, were you?”

She had to laugh at that. As if Mom would have let her. “Only in spirit.”

“Orion the Hunter’s pretty hard to miss,” Max chipped in, playing a slow song. “Which means that, chasing faithfully behind him… is Sirius.”

“Sirius is the brightest star in the constellation,” Brooke pointed out needlessly. “The constellation is called Canis Major.”

“Man’s best friend,” Chloe said absently. Pompidou was tucked against her side, his doggy snores quiet in the night.

“Some say.” Brooke sounded amused. “Okay – if I’m annoying you guys by nerding out about astronomy when we’re just chilling, you have to say something. I won’t notice otherwise.”

“I like it, I promise,” said Kate. “It’s cute when you talk about your interests.”

“Don’t sweat it, Scotty. It’s good to have something to listen to. I’d probably be a huge downer otherwise.”

Max gave Chloe a sympathetic look when she said that, but Kate judged by Brooke’s expression that she was just as lost as Kate was.

“You have seemed kind of absent tonight,” she decided to say. “Is everything alright?”

Chloe traded looks with her girlfriend, some unseen communication going on. Finally, she spoke. “Rachel and I were supposed to come here.”

Oh. Kate thought she should sit up for this one. Brooke took a second to follow her example, sort of, or at least roll over onto her elbow on her side to look at Chloe directly.

“That was always our plan,” Chloe went on. “Escape Arcadia Bay together. Run away to SoCal. She never stopped talking about it, and I was along for the ride.” She paused for a small grunt, almost a laugh. “Some plan. We kind of just expected it to work out, screw all the little details like jobs and money. It was really more like a promise we made to each other. To stick together, no matter what.”

Not unlike the promise she and Brooke made, Kate thought. The two of them shared a look before Brooke turned back to Chloe to make a remark, her voice soft. “That’s why you never gave up on finding her. You knew she wouldn’t split without you. I feel kind of bad for ever believing that.”

“Hey– don’t sweat it, it’s not like you knew her.” Chloe tilted her head away.

“I kind of wish I did now,” Brooke said. “You make her sound amazing.”

“Welcome to the club,” Max said, smiling sadly.

“I like to think we could have been friends.” Kate had thought of that more than once, since everything happened. It was hard not to feel some kinship with a girl who had suffered the same things she had, with the exception of Kate being lucky enough not to suffer an overdose. That particular thought always left her feeling quite sober.

“Maybe…” Kate finally suggested, tentative. “Maybe, as long as we’re here, we can do something to honor her memory?”

That finally got Chloe to sit up. Pompidou stirred beside her with a plaintive whine, before flopping over the other way and continuing to try to nap. As for the girl, she looked contemplative.

“Yeah,” she said, quiet at first before getting a bit louder. “Hey, that’s a nice idea, Katie. Get a bit of a punk funeral going.”

“A punk funeral?” Kate and Brooke both questioned at the same time.

In response, Chloe just held up a finger and started to stand. “Be right back.” Then she bustled into the Bane and disappeared from view for a minute.

Max seemed to have some notion of what was going on, sitting up and setting her guitar aside before stretching her arms. “I guess it’s been a long time coming.”

Before Kate could ask what she meant, Chloe returned with five beer bottles. She passed one around to everybody, kept one for herself, and set the last to stand up in the sand in the empty space between her and Brooke. “So, uh, a punk funeral. I don’t know how much you know about the punk subculture, but a lot of punks don’t exactly get along with their families…”

Seeing Brooke and Kate nod slowly along, Chloe continued. “And most of us would hate a weepy, traditional funeral service anyway. So a lot of times, punks’ friends will get together and celebrate their lives in their own way. Usually with some booze and some colorful stories. Rachel… she had some issues with her parents. Especially her dad. They’re both dead now of course, thanks to the storm. There was never a funeral. But if there had been… some flowery Catholic ceremony in her honor, she would have been rolling her eyes up in heaven. Not that I would have been invited anyway. James Amber fucking hated me.”

Seeming to notice the horrified and sympathetic stares of the other three, Chloe took a second to breathe and opened her beer. “... Point is, I think she’d ask for something like this if she could. And… I guess this does seem like the appropriate place to see her off. So let’s share a drink.” She lifted her bottle. “To Rachel!”

“To Rachel,” the other three chorused. The bonfire spat some sparks out that rose into the dark sky, and the four all took a drink in remembrance.

Time passed, and Chloe’s stories about Rachel unfolded. There were moments with laughter, and moments with tears, some with both. But not a one of them was dull. Brooke and Max seemed to be just as raptly attentive as Kate was herself.

The story of how Chloe and Rachel met was a tale and a half in itself. Kate found herself relating to Rachel even more than before, knowing how an overprotective parent had all but destroyed her life. Although she was a little tipsy from her drink, she was still more than sober enough to send up a meaningful prayer.

Please watch after Rachel Amber, Lord. She’s earned a good rest after all the crap she had to put up with down here.

Her prayers didn’t used to have quite as many crass words in them, but Kate didn’t figure that God Almighty really cared what language she used. Or maybe it’s just that she didn’t care herself anymore.

After things wound down, Brooke took a few minutes away to use the restroom. While she was away, Chloe turned to look at Kate and ask, “Hey, Marshmallow… this might sound like kind of a left field question, but have you ever considered taking self-defense classes?”

Kate blinked. Chloe was right; that was a left field question. “No… not really. I’ve never… I mean, I wouldn’t want to fight anybody.”

“There’s a difference between fighting somebody and defending yourself,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “The point of it is to get yourself out of situations, not into them.”

“Kind of out of character for you,” Max interjected with a teasing smile. She looked interested in the exchange.

“Yeah– shut up.” Chloe wagged her hand at Max. “I dunno. It just occurred to me as something that might appeal, given everything that’s happened to you.”

Kate thought for a moment, then asked, “Have you?”

“Oh. Yeah, after Arcadia Bay and everything. I felt kind of useless about not being able to physically stand up to Nathan and Jefferson, so just for my own peace of mind, I took some classes for a while after we got to Seattle.”

Ah. That made this make a little more sense. It had helped Chloe, and now she was suggesting the same thing for Kate. She smiled kindly with that knowledge. “Well, I don’t know. Violence does scare me. I’d hate to break somebody’s foot or something.”

“That is a mental image both disturbing and hilarious,” Max observed.

And the more Kate thought, the more she wondered what was so bad about the idea. Her ordeal with Jefferson had left her feeling powerless for a time, and the knowledge that she was just sitting around while Max, Chloe and Brooke risked their lives for her during the investigation made her feel worse. She believed in turning the other cheek wherever possible, but… when would that ever work on a remorseless monster like him?

“I’m… not completely opposed to the idea,” she finally decided to say. “Though I don’t think I’ll find the time to enroll in a course while we’re traveling.”

“I didn’t figure you would. But maybe I could give you some pointers in the meantime?”

Meeting Chloe’s hopeful smile, Kate returned it gently and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday, June 25th 2014 [ Brooke ]

Once again, Brooke and her companions found themselves in a colorful, crowded place, but this time it was somewhere familiar to her. A brick building sat picturesque on the hill in front of them, a red train pulling up to it with a whistle. On the lawn in front of it, a carefully arranged flowerbed formed the shape of Mickey Mouse’s head. Behind them, hundreds of people queued up for tickets, children noisily announcing their glee as parents sighed and emptied their bags for the security staff.

This was bringing Brooke way back. She had only been six or seven when she came here with her mom, a trip so long ago that it was fuzzy and outsized from her imperfect childish memory. But no matter how much time passed, it was hard to forget the most magical place on earth.

Wait, was that the one in Florida? She could never keep the corporate slogans straight.

Beside her, Kate was clinging to her arm and more or less bouncing up and down in glee. “Oh my gosh, I’m so excited! I’ve wanted to come here since I was a little girl, but we just couldn’t afford it.”

Brooke found it infectious. She flashed her girlfriend her most charming grin and said, “As your designated Disneyland tour guide, I’m committed to making your first visit a special one…”

“Barf,” Chloe opined from nearby. Still, her little smile betrayed that she didn’t mean it, and Max was looking pretty happy beside her, too. Their canine companion was not present, a dog-sitter in town having been hired for the day so they could enjoy Disneyland unfettered.

“I’m not sure how much tour guiding we’ll need,” Max teased. “We already know exactly where to head first.”

Brooke didn’t need to tell the future to guess the answer to that, so she asked flatly, “Is it Pirates?”

“It’s Pirates!” Max cheerily confirmed, before returning a high-five that Chloe was sending her way.

Brooke sighed and nodded along. “Let’s get moving, then. It’s a long walk.”

Main Street, USA was even more crowded than the pavilion they were just standing in. With summer in full swing, but the weather wonderfully mild regardless, people had flocked to Disneyland to see all it had to offer. There had to be tens of thousands of them throughout the whole park.

Despite the crowds, Brooke still found a bit of time to talk with Kate as they went. It was a miracle she could still be audible over all of it. “Starting to wonder if coming here in January might have been a better idea, just to avoid the overcrowding. Oh, or November. Then I could have gone to Blizzcon…”

“It’s fine,” said Kate, shooting her a smile. “Crowds don’t really bother me all that much. As long as they’re not staring at me.”

Brooke could imagine why. She squeezed Kate’s hand, but didn’t linger on the matter as they walked a few paces behind Max and Chloe. “This place is crazy, huh? It’s like a whole world in itself, all carefully manufactured and engineered to make people happy. Like a real-life Matrix, just without the shaved heads.”

“Well, there’s another movie for the ‘need to watch’ list, I think.” Kate’s look was an amused one, but still slightly aloof and thoughtful. “You’re right though. It does feel rather separate from the real world. Like you can forget about whatever’s going on outside. I’m sure that’s intentional.”

“I dunno how I feel about being psychologically molded by Disney Imagineers,” Brooke joked.

“If you zombie walk into the gift shop first thing on the way out, we’ll restrain you. Promise.”

Brooke lurched. “Must… give money… to the mouse?!”

They both shared another laugh at that, before the foursome stopped for a photo opp in front of the castle. Their next destination thereafter: New Orleans Square.

Brooke and Kate’s tolerance limit for Pirates of the Caribbean proved to be two rides. When the fiercest pirates of Arcadia Bay announced their intentions for a third – and probably more – the other two threw in the towel.

“You know that line is just going to get worse as the day goes on, right?” Brooke didn’t have much hope of swaying Max and Chloe, but felt she had to try nevertheless out of some sort of friendly loyalty.

“We’ll still have plenty of time to hit up the other rides after we’re done,” Chloe argued, stolid. “Trust me, we’re masters of time management.”

Max groaned, though Brooke didn’t know why.

“Okay, if you say so,” said Kate. “We’ll just text you and meet up back at the castle later, okay?”

“Have fun ‘til then,” Max wished them, before she and Chloe disappeared into the Pirates queue again. Brooke shrugged helplessly at Kate and the two split off to explore on their own.

A relatively short trip to Adventureland saw them come away with a cup of Dole whip each, which was just as tasty as Brooke remembered it. It was all gone by the time they crossed the park to Tomorrowland.

As soon as they made it, Brooke felt just like a kid again. She couldn’t really help it – she was such a sucker for this part of the park, with all the retro-future stuff and the Star Wars attractions. She couldn’t stop pointing out all the details to Kate as they went.

“So that track above us used to have the PeopleMover on it, which was like, this sky tram thing? But they shut it down and replaced it with a rocket car ride. Problem is, the track wasn’t made for fast-moving vehicles, so they fucked it up irreparably, and now they can’t use it for anything, so it’s just this weird relic hanging overhead…”

Kate was nodding along, but soon interrupted Brooke to point out, “Just for your information, you’re being really adorable right now.”

Brooke almost tripped midstep at that. “Huh–? Oh. Should I stop?”

“No,” Kate answered, gazing at her fondly.

Well, as long as that was all squared away… A slightly more blushy Brooke continued to talk about the history and engineering behind Tomorrowland until she got it out of her system and finally suggested they try their hand at the Astro Blasters.

“I won’t cheat with my powers,” Brooke swore and made a motion. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“How generous of you,” Kate giggled. “I’ll do my best, but I’ve never had great aim.”

Such proved to be the case. But no matter how skewed the score margin was in Brooke’s favor, they both had plenty of fun zapping aliens, robots, and alien robots for a few minutes.

Afterward, Kate continued to prove her beneficence by agreeing to join Brooke in her pilgrimage to Star Tours, though she got the sense that her girlfriend was spending a lot more attention on watching her with that affectionate air of hers than on the ride. Brooke guessed she was okay with that.

Lastly, they found themselves in front of the imposing bulk of Space Mountain, its white face almost blinding in the bright sunlight. Brooke thought of that precious photo, currently safe in an album on the RV, and decided something.

“Can we take a picture here? Just for the memories.”

“Absolutely,” Kate readily agreed. With the help of a passing good samaritan once again, the two posed in front of the structure, Brooke’s arm around Kate’s back and a big smile on her face.

Looking at the photo on her phone afterwards, Brooke’s expression turned more wistful. I wish you were here, Mom. Well, maybe not here here. Wouldn’t want you cramping my style in front of my girlfriend.

For the first time since Arcadia Bay, Brooke felt her grief about her mom replaced by fond reminiscence. She guessed that was the real magic of this place.

Brooke: hope you’re having fun up in portland.

[You sent a photo!]

Julie: Brooke!!! You both look so cute together! And nice haircut.

Brooke: thanks. i felt like conforming to stereotypes that day.

Julie: lol. That’ll look great next to the one of you and Vera. Having fun so far? Need anything?

Brooke: not at the moment. but yeah i’ve had fun. no pressure to plan for the future, just experiencing things and spending time with people i care about.

Brooke: it’s pretty great!

Julie: I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you drop an exclamation point in a text… you really are growing up.

Brooke: /rolls eyes

Julie: There’s the Brooke I know.

Brooke: how about you? situation normal?

Julie: Yeah, pretty much. I drove down to Lincoln City again a couple days ago to have lunch with Richard.

Brooke: uh-oh…

Julie: He’s a lovely man! And I think he’s feeling a bit of empty nest syndrome with Kate out of the house on a more permanent basis.

Brooke: this isn’t going to turn into that will ferrell step brothers movie is it?

Julie: Still gay, Brooke.

Brooke: thank god.

Julie: But we are friends now anyway. Which is good since I figure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other for as long as you and Kate are a thing.

Julie: Probably a good long while!

Brooke: you really think we’ll go the distance?

Brooke: i mean, your high school romance was kind of fraught.

Julie: True. But did you forget the part where we found a way eventually?

Julie: Trust me, if fate didn’t have other plans, me and Vera would have been together forever.

Julie: You might or might not end up in the same position but I definitely have a good feeling about it.

Brooke: shit. well thanks. way to make me feel emotions and junk while i’m trying to get to sleep.

Julie: Sorry!

Julie: Rest well, Brooke. Talk again soon.

Chapter Text

Sunday, June 29th 2014 [ Brooke ]

The day at Disneyland continued to linger in Brooke’s recent memory, like a warm, fuzzy mirage in the desert. Which was exactly where she was now, in fact. After breaking through the hills east of Los Angeles on their way up toward Nevada, the crew of the Bane had found themselves quickly transitioning from a benevolent Southern Californian climate to the actual Mojave Desert.

It was novel for the first mile or two (and gave Brooke a few opportunities for New Vegas references that everybody quickly got tired of). But every mile after that had been rather dreary, because it was just sort of the same thing in every direction. Brooke had grown weary of looking out the window rather quickly and had decided to start reading the copy of Stone Butch Blues she’d picked up at the bookstore in San Francisco instead.

Chloe’s recommendation had been an apt one, as it turned out. This was far and away the most harrowing thing Brooke had ever read, but it was definitely expanding her mind in some interesting ways, too. Maybe she should seek out some more queer literature next time they were in a city big enough to find it.

For the moment, she was seated fairly close to the front of the RV, keeping Max and Chloe company between chapters. The two of them were just as bored as she was, and poor Chloe couldn’t escape from the driver’s seat to alleviate it. Even Pompidou looked exhausted where he lay on one of the couches further back.

Kate seemed set on taking things into her own hands. She walked up, her hand braced on the wall to keep steady despite the moving RV, and gave Chloe an imploring look. “Hey… Do you mind if I dig through your CDs a bit? I badly need something to listen to.”

Chloe sent a smile over her shoulder, eager to indulge Kate as always. (If Brooke didn’t know better, it would almost make her feel jealous.) “Sure, help yourself. They’re in the cabinet by the stereo, and my old Walkman is in there too if you don’t wanna blast it for all to hear.”

“Thanks,” Kate answered, relieved, and wandered on back, leaving the others to their fates. Without any obvious diversions like Kate’s for themselves, they resorted to drastic measures.

“We could play I spy…?” Max broached carefully.

Brooke and Chloe both groaned.

“Yeah, that would be a huge hit. I spy something tan…!” That was the latter, rolling her eyes.

Max wilted a little and shrugged. “Just a suggestion…”

Brooke decided to save her with a counter-offer. “What about two truths and a lie?”

“... Alright, fine, we can give it a try. You want to go first, Scotty?”

It was only fair, since she’d brought it up to start with. Brooke marked her place as she closed her book and leaned in to participate. “Alright. First… I’ve never, ever broken a bone.”

Max and Chloe both hummed as they considered that. Brooke could hear Kate fussing with the Walkman in the back, ignoring the game.

“Second, I have never lost an online match of Forza Horizon.”

Max narrowed her eyes, an ‘I’ve got you’ glint sparking there. Brooke ignored it and finished off her set.

“Lastly, I am actually, definitely, for real scared of heights… I admit it.”

Chloe clicked her tongue, thought, and said, “The second one’s the lie.”

“Definitely the second one,” Max agreed.

And Brooke grinned, triumphant. “Well…”

Max facepalmed. “Oh, no.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but that one’s actually true. I put in something like a hundred hours on that game, according to Xbox Live, at least before I lost the console. I never lost an actual online race.”

“Bullshit,” Chloe called. “Not one?”

“Not a single solitary one,” Brooke reported with no small amount of pride. “Sorry, I’m actually cracked at racing games. I guess luck played a part, though. It is kind of hard even for a good player to keep up a good winning streak like that.”

“So by process of elimination,” Max ventured, “it’s the first one?”

“Well it could have been the last one.”

Chloe side-eyed her. “Not if you shaking like a leaf on that bridge was any indication.”

Brooke scoffed at her, but had to confirm Max’s suspicions regardless. “Yes, it’s the first one.”

“Which bone? And how?” Max blinked owlishly at her.

“My left ulna.” She tapped the side of her forearm to show where. “I was ten, trying to climb a tree, and… I fell.”

Chloe grinned. “Is that how you got scared of heights?”

“Shush.”

“Won’t. I bet your mom was pissed, huh? I know mine was when I busted my wrist skateboarding.”

“Yeah, she read me the riot act.” Brooke laughed, a quiet sound. She reflected fondly on it looking back now, but at the time it was humiliating. “A few weeks with a cast and I was fine, though.”

And so it went. The others took their turns after her. Brooke discovered that Max could be surprisingly duplicitous when she felt like it, and she learned more than she really wanted to about Chloe’s rebellious teen years. (“Excuse you, I’m still a rebellious teen!” “You turned twenty in March. You’re basically an old woman now.” “... At heart.”)

Twenty-some minutes of that had passed them by when Brooke heard a curious noise. Sniffling? She turned her head, suspecting the napping dog, but he was awake now and looking at Kate. Who herself still had the headphones for Chloe’s walkman on where she sat on the couch nearest the stereo… wiping tears from her eyes?

Oh shit. Brooke instantly went on alert and stood up, shuffling back to her. “Kate? What’s wrong?”

The others cottoned onto what was going on pretty quickly, too, and their reactions said a lot about just how much everyone in that RV was attuned to Kate’s feelings. Chloe actually slowed the RV to pull over by the side of the desert highway, looking over her shoulder. Max joined Brooke at a small remove, looking on worriedly.

 Kate took a second to lift her head and realize she was being talked to. She took the headphones off and gave an apologetic, still somewhat teary smile. “Oh–... Sorry if I worried you. I’m fine, it’s just… the music.”

Brooke noted the empty CD jewelcase next to Kate and picked it up, curious what could prompt such a strong reaction. She didn’t recognize it, and it didn’t have words printed on the cover, so she turned it questioningly to Chloe, who was just walking up.

Chloe whistled. “People Who Can Eat People by AJJ, huh…? Pretty intense, Cupkate.”

Brooke’s brow furrowed. “Andrew Jackson Jihad? Doesn’t that band exclusively sing about, like, booze and fucking? Why’d you pick that one up, Kate?”

Although Chloe looked like she wanted to protest Brooke’s characterization of the music, Kate took the attention off her as she shrugged minutely. “No special reason, I guess. I just saw the white bunny on the cover and it made me think about Alice.”

Of course, Brooke sighed mentally.

“Stormy the Rabbit, drawing people in even from beyond the grave.” Chloe scratched the back of her neck. “Well, what did you think? It’s not something I listen to a whole lot myself. A bit too acoustic for my tastes most of the time, you know? But I’d think in your case it’d be a bit too… well…”

Kate managed to look very faintly annoyed at Chloe, and the others who were hovering, too. “I may not have very much experience with secular music, but I can handle a bit of swearing and suicide references in lyrics. Seriously– I’m fine.”

A bit chastened, Brooke gave her an apologetic nod. She could see the action reflected on Max and Chloe’s parts. The next question came from her. “Well, it seems like it resonated with you. So that’s… good?”

Recovering a bit of her positive demeanor (though still wiping the corners of her eyes), Kate smiled at her and obliged the questioning. “It may just be because I didn’t ever get to absorb much secular music aside from classical pieces, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard songs that were… so frank, and so honest before? It doesn’t flinch away from the really nasty parts of life, but it’s still optimistic. I… kind of like that combination.”

“I don’t think I’ve actually listened to this,” Max noted as she took the case from Brooke. Popping the front slip out, she raised an eyebrow at the lyrics. “... ‘Rejoice, God’s eyes are big X’s?’ I’m honestly kind of surprised you could vibe to something with anti-religious undertones, Kate.”

Kate shrugged it off. “Those are definitely there, but I think the point of that song was that you should try to find hope in a hopeless world, and you don’t need to rely on the idea of salvation in the afterlife to make it bearable. It’s a perspective on atheism I’d never really encountered before, and as much as I still believe in God, it made me think a little.”

Brooke couldn’t help recalling some of the things Kate said on the rooftop in light of that. It felt like an entire lifetime ago, but somehow not distant enough at the same time. She guessed some of those questions still weighed on Kate from time to time – how couldn’t they? But it seemed that this CD had, implausibly, helped her to grapple with some of them.

With Max and Brooke both thoughtfully silent, Chloe took the opportunity to shill. “I never figured this stuff would be such a big hit with you, Katie. Feel free to check out anything in there, and see what you like. Maybe we can make a punk of you yet.”

Kate laughed airily. “I’m not so sure of that part! But I’m open to exploring anything. And I did like this on a musical level, even apart from the lyrics, so…”

“I still kind of feel like we blinked and landed on Mars,” Max said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Kate listening to punk music? Is that a sign of the end times?”

“We’ll see if I make a habit of it or not,” Kate remarked with a small, amused breath. “This was just kind of a special moment. It feels like fate that I came across it right now.”

Brooke smiled at her minutely, her heart easing a little as the last of her worries left her. “Why’s that?”

“It finally gave me the right words to put to what’s in my heart.” Kate grinned, so bright and happy that Brooke couldn’t look away. All signs of tears in Kate’s eyes were gone. “God damn, I’m glad that I survived!”

[ ♪ ]

Chapter Text

Friday, July 4th 2014 [ Brooke ]

Brooke and her friends greeted the Fourth of July not with the thundering of fireworks, but instead with a drive through a deep forest. It was the last thing Brooke would have expected to see in the Desert Southwest, but as soon as they headed south from the Grand Canyon, there it was: a verdant carpet, enveloping them in endless, impossible greenery.

There was something primordial, almost Jurassic, about the endless evergreens in the bare soil, junipers, pines and cypress stretching as far as the eye could see. Distantly, mesas of red sandstone rose from the forest like castles out of the sea. Her eyes drank it all in as they drove; it was one of the most enchanting things she’d ever seen.

Finally, nestled in that forest among the mesas, they came upon Desert Green, Arizona for the first time. On that day, they weren’t yet aware of all that would happen during their stay, though the town’s reputation preceded it to some extent.

Brooke knew that it was a town about the same size as Lincoln City, plus however many thousands of tourists happened to be there at a given moment. It was often considered the ‘weird’ capital of the Southwest, a place where healing crystal shops and Old West saloons rubbed elbows, and where the red rocks loomed tall over a place that was home to a lot of free spirits.

For the moment, that reputation was all that really mattered. The trouble wouldn’t start until later.

Until then, as a capital of the arts and home to many strange and unique sights, it appealed to Kate, Max and Chloe all in various ways. Kate was eager to explore the forest and red rocks surrounding the town, to expand her artistic milieu, and to check out the local flavor. Max was hoping to add to her still expanding photographic portfolio and enjoy yet another new adventure with her girlfriend. And Chloe, well, she just wanted to get a load of all things weird and spooky.

So it was that the three of them had suggested a week-long stay, back during a lengthy conversation at the hotel in Las Vegas. Brooke was wary of Desert Green’s woo-woo reputation, the conspiracy theories and spirit mediums and whatnot, and eager to fit as many destinations into the trip as possible, but was outvoted in the end. She guessed it was kind of fair to want to stop and explore someplace in depth for once, especially after their very brief stops in Vegas and at the Grand Canyon. She’d just do her best to make the most of it.

The foursome slowed as they neared the town, wary of holiday traffic, skirting its edges to avoid downtown. They were afforded a beautiful view of the melange of building styles and landmarks as they looked down from the ridges surrounding town, something which quieted Brooke’s concerns for a time. It was hard to deny that Desert Green was beautiful.

So focused was she on appreciating the view out one of the side windows that she almost went flying when the RV came to an abrupt stop. “Shit!” she uttered, something echoed by Chloe up in the driver’s seat.

“What–? C’mon, Porky, get out of the goddamn road!”

Along with a slightly frazzled Kate, Brooke made her way up to the front to peer out the windshield and see what was going on. There was an animal just standing in the road; it seemed to be looking straight at them. In the other lane, drivers kept rolling past, unsympathetic to the girls’ plight.

“What is that?” Max asked. “Some kind of wild pig?”

“Yeah, a peccary. Also called a javelina.” Brooke had never actually seen one before, but was totally succeeding her scientific knowledge checks right now. “They can be a nuisance in this region, and I guess this one is living up to the reputation.”

Chloe beeped the horn. “Whatever it is, it’s bacon if it doesn’t clear out in ten seconds.”

“You don’t mean that,” Kate chided, hands on her hips. “It’s fine, it isn’t like we’re in a hurry or anything.”

The back-and-forth was interrupted by Pompidou suddenly surging up to the front, his front paws slamming on the console as he began to bark fiercely at the troublesome peccary. Brooke had never seen him so worked up before.

Max was startled, but did her best to chill him out, a hand on his collar. “Pompi! Down… It’s just a pig, it’s fine.”

But the dog continued to growl and whine, seemingly rather distressed. He only stopped when the javelina finally did an about-face and blithely trundled off the road, disappearing into the undergrowth.

Chloe huffed in annoyance, and the others could only shrug at each other. For girls who grew up in Arcadia Bay, Desert Green’s weirdest wasn’t very weird at all.

After their wildlife encounter, the group parked on the outskirts of town and walked around for a bit, getting a load of the local Fourth celebrations. Red, white and blue bunting decorated the downtown strip, and children were still picking up stray candy from a parade in the morning. It was cute, and the foursome made sure to scope out some shops to visit later on.

Their exploration didn’t last very long, however, since they had a check-in to take care of. Not at a roach-infested motel, thank goodness, but an actual, honest to god house. Landing an Airbnb listing for four people and a dog at relatively short notice was almost enough to make Brooke suspicious. But as they pulled up and found a handsome modern two-story that looked like people actually lived in it, she accepted that it was probably not an organ harvesting operation after all.

The RV came to a stop, parked next to the black Buick in the driveway. As Brooke stepped out onto the hot asphalt, her eyes lingered on the faded ‘parent of an honor student’ bumper sticker on the back of the car. Her attention tracked away to the lines of red pumice stones lining the driveway to either side, something she’d never seen in Oregon. As she saw the spotless siding and roof tiles, it struck Brooke that the homeowner was pretty well-off. They must do good business in a place like Desert Green.

The front door was opened, and there was a woman waiting for them. A thin cardigan of tan with brown and orange geometric patterns was worn about her shoulders, a bit of gray entering her dark brown hair. She had tan skin, a heavyset build, and a friendly, open expression. “Welcome, welcome! Maxine Caulfield and friends, I assume?”

Max smiled sheepishly as she came up to shake the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you. I just go by Max. This is Chloe, Kate, Brooke, and… Pompidou!”

Pompidou, showing no sign of his earlier agitation, happily accepted some scratches behind his ears from the homeowner, tail a-wagging. Everyone else said hi, before the woman spoke for her own part. “Well, I’m Martha Sauceda. You probably won’t be seeing much of me this week, but I’ll leave you my cell number in case you need anything. Anyway, come in! I’ll show you around the place.”

The place was tidy and showed a lot of Southwestern influence in its decor. Brooke wondered to herself if it’s what Martha actually liked, or if she just put it up to appeal to the tourists. There were plenty of undeniably personal touches, though, like the well-worn figurine of the Virgin Mary on one of the windowsills. The decor seemed like it was missing something, though Brooke couldn’t say what. But just the same, the scent inside was fresh and pleasant; Brooke found it comfortably homey.

“I have lunch just about ready,” Martha said, and Brooke made up her mind that she liked her.

Before long, they were comfortable at the kitchen table, Pompidou asleep beneath, tuckered out from the morning's excitement. Halfway through a hearty and tasty homemade lunch, the front door clicked again, and everyone looked up to see who it was. Brooke saw a girl about her age, with a close resemblance to Martha; the same build and the same tan skin, just with a more youthful complexion and a pair of round glasses. She was in a pink tank top and jean shorts, a turquoise bead bracelet on her wrist. But what really caught Brooke’s eye (and had Max perking up two seats over) was the vintage camera around the girl’s neck.

“Um– hi, everyone!” the as-yet unnamed girl greeted them, waving and smiling awkwardly.

“Ah!” Martha exclaimed before Brooke or the others could say anything back. She stood and bustled over, a hand on the girl’s back as she turned to introduce her to the group. “This is my child, she lives upstairs. You won’t notice her too much.”

“Liz,” the girl sighed, rolling her eyes. “My name is Liz.”

“Of course I know that!” Martha chided, almost off-handed. She gave Liz a worried once-over, then tutted, noticing a couple of band-aids on her leg. “Were you in the caves again?”

Liz avoided both her gaze and that of the guests, clearly embarrassed to be put on the spot. “Not like I have anywhere else to be right now…”

That stopped Martha short, and she sighed, before swaddling Liz in a tight hug. “Ay, pobrecita… I’m sorry, I wasn’t even thinking of that. But ¿por qué no puedes ser más cuidadosa?”

“Mamá,” Liz groaned plaintively, trying to wriggle free. Brooke did her best to pretend she wasn’t noticing any of it, knowing too well how the poor girl was probably dying from embarrassment in front of her peers right now.

Then there was a jingle. Martha sighed and fetched her cell phone from her cardigan pocket, letting Liz go. “I’m sorry, I need to take this. I’ll be outside.” Then she bustled out without further questioning. Brooke only caught the tail end of a “Hello?” before the door slammed shut.

Liz remained, rubbing her arm awkwardly. It was Kate who first took pity on her, smiling and beckoning her over. “Liz, right? Would you like to eat lunch with us?”

That only bought a moment’s hesitance from Liz before she smiled back uncertainly and walked over to take a seat. “Thanks. You know, I usually do try to stay out from under the feet of guests…”

Chloe extended an olive branch, in her own way, along with an easy grin. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite.”

Liz laughed softly at that, getting a spoonful of beans and rice onto her plate. “Okay, if you say so. Besides, most of our guests aren’t actually my age, so this is kinda cool.”

“Your mom seems nice,” Max ventured.

“She’s great,” Liz said with more caution than Brooke thought the words strictly required, “just a bit… um… eager?”

“There are a lot of alternatives I’d definitely take ‘eager’ over,” Brooke said wryly, breaking her silence.

“True.” Liz spread some butter on a toasted piece of bread and munched on it. In her sullen attitude, Brooke read a few things. She finally placed what was missing from the house: any family photos. While she mulled over that, into the silence came Max again, no longer able to contain herself.

“That AE-1 you’ve got there is in killer shape,” she said, blue eyes sparkling with glee. “You’re into film photography?”

Liz’s face cracked into a grin at that and she lifted it to show it off. “You like? I got it in a pawn shop a while ago for pretty cheap. I’m no expert, but yeah. I prefer the quality of film over digital…”

“Oh God, Max has found one of her own people,” Chloe bemoaned, slumping into the table.

Only snickering in passing at Chloe’s theatrics, Max turned back to Liz and asked, “So what sort of subjects do you like to take?”

“Well, a bit of everything. It’s fun, but my main thing is using it to document, uh, my other extracurriculars.”

“What are those?” Kate asked, leaning her chin on her hands.

And Liz wore a slightly sheepish grin now. “Um, investigating the paranormal.”

“Like… ghost hunting?” Brooke asked, eyebrow steadily climbing.

“Yeah, mainly.”

To say that Brooke’s instinctual response was skepticism would be to put it mildly. She held very little esteem for ghost hunters, in the past at least. Though as she thought about it more now, she had to acknowledge that her own weirdass life gave her not much of a leg to stand on there anymore. She settled back, defeated (if only in her own mind), and conceded. “Cool.”

“Have you ever caught any on film, Liz Aykroyd?” Chloe asked, fiddling with her fork. Her words were light, but Brooke could tell from her expression that she was really interested.

“Let me show you,” Liz said, and stood up from the table.

Though Liz was kind enough to show them the guest rooms on the way, their ultimate destination was, of course, Liz’s bedroom. Brooke felt a little kinship with her when she noticed how the curtains were down, stubbornly refusing the light of the sun any easy access, and had to approve of the PS4 sitting by the TV off to one side. A computer desk hosted a few figurines of superhero characters, though the ultimate draw was the line of string along one wall, with photos clipped to it.

Brooke stepped a little closer to lean in and regard them. Indistinct white blurs and passingly humanoid figures characterized the subject of the photos, though a few looked like they were caught by accident. The settings were invariably dark and rocky. She listened to Liz excitedly narrate the context for a few of them, before asking, “These are the caves your mom was talking about?”

Liz rolled her eyes. “They’re not actually caves. They’re mine shafts. This area used to have loads of copper mining. Now there’s hundreds of depleted mines all throughout the forest near town, some of which you can still get into.”

“Isn’t that pretty dangerous?” Kate noted warily.

That made Liz hesitate a second, something dark chasing across her face. “... Yeah. Snakes, scorpions. Long drops. I never went alone, though, don’t worry.”

The use of past tense caught Brooke’s attention, but before she could ask, Chloe butted in. “You sure have a lot of these pics. But aren’t they all kind of… uh… smudgy?”

Liz laughed nervously, clearly a little embarrassed. “Ah… I’m still getting the hang of night time photography. But I’ll get incontrovertible proof… sooner or later. Once I get my shit figured out.”

Max gave her an encouraging smile. “It can be pretty annoying. Maybe I can give you some pointers?”

“I’ll take ‘em,” Liz said with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

Nodding, Max looked past her and then pointed at the thick black curtain covering part of Liz’s wall. “Do you just develop your photos here?”

Liz glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah, I use my walk-in closet as kind of a makeshift dark room.” The four Arcadia girls all flinched in unison; Liz noticed, but didn’t ask apart from a brief, quizzical look. “It ain’t pretty but it’s done alright so far. At the very least, I haven’t overexposed almost any of my negatives. The problems are all behind the lens.”

While Max and Liz talked, and Chloe went back to rubbing her chin at the photos, Brooke’s eye went a-wandering. She’d ended up standing near the computer desk so as not to crowd the others, and her eye caught on a paper jutting out from a small pile. She could just about make out the printwork of a flowery wreath and read the words on the top:

“Celebrating the life of Amanda Jean Norris, 1 Nov 1994 - 22 May 2014…”

Goddamn, Brooke thought, recoiling a little. Only nineteen… I guess they were friends? So that’s why she used past tense. But if that’s the case, why was she out at the mines just now?

She belatedly noticed Kate had come up alongside her, but judging by her expression she hadn’t seen what Brooke saw. She instead raised her eyebrows at the paper on top of the pile. “Say, Liz,” Kate remarked, demure. “Did you draw this yourself?”

The whiplash was unreal. Brooke almost swallowed her tongue when she saw the colored pencil portrait of what looked distinctly like Liz as an anthropomorphic blue leopard.

Looking over to see what Kate meant, Liz turned straight red and scurried over to clutch the paper to her chest, laughing nervously. “Uh, yeah! Don’t worry about that, it’s just an artistic experiment!”

Brooke gave her a knowing look, which Liz returned with a shy grin. Before she could assure her that her lips were sealed about her fursona, Kate cut in with her own special kind of assurance.

“I really liked the shading!” Kate complimented. “I’d love to see more of your work sometime.”

Liz’s expression softened. “Yeah. I’d like that.” Then smiling at the others in general, relaxing a bit, “You guys seem pretty cool. I’m glad you’ll be staying with us.”

The feeling, Brooke thought, was mutual. Her questions notwithstanding.

Chapter Text

Saturday, July 5th 2014 [ Kate ]

The next morning, Kate and Max went to get coffee. Brooke was still in bed with a headache (elevation changes and dehydration, Kate warned her!) and Chloe was never an early riser anyway. Max hadn’t slept terribly well the night before and was only too eager to get some caffeine in her system.

(Kate had plenty of nightmares herself, but she’d never known anyone who had them more often than Brooke and Max did. It was kind of worrying sometimes, but as far as doing something about it was concerned, she was lost at sea.)

Whatever the cause, it was nice to get a bit of alone time with her friend, something that had been a rarity since the halcyon days of their tea dates at Blackwell. They chatted on their way down the hill from the Sauceda house to the nearest coffee shop, Kate’s bunny sneakers scuffing on asphalt that hadn’t yet had time to grow hot.

“This is actually kind of surreal, isn’t it?” Max asked, gazing off toward the red rocks outside of town. Kate could only imagine what sort of vistas she was picturing. She knew Max was eager to get out into the red rocks later that day and start snapping some photos.

“I keep expecting to open my eyes and see Oregon again,” Kate agreed. “We’ve come a long way in such a short time. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Because we’ve put home so far behind us?”

Kate skipped a step there. She had to think about it a little. “... Kind of? I miss my sisters already, but it’s definitely for the better that me and Brooke are here figuring ourselves out instead of back there. Were your folks giving the two of you trouble?”

Max sighed, a sound laden with the world-weariness of a teenager fed up with her parents’ nonsense. “I’ve told you a bit about them, right? They can be a little smothering sometimes. And I’ll be honest, I don’t think they like Chloe very much.”

Kate adored Chloe, but she could understand why older authority figures would not. She nodded slowly as they crossed from residential to commercial, now surrounded by shops. “It’s good you’re getting a chance to spread your wings, then. You and Chloe deserve the best!” Her expression shifted into a little grin. “I bet your parents will come to peace with your decisions once the two of you actually tie the knot.”

Max blushed deeply at that and sputtered. “H-hey! It’s way too early to be talking about that!”

Kate laughed; she wasn’t repentant in the least about getting that reaction out of Max. But before she could reassure her that she was only joking, she was distracted by a different sound, one rather different from laughter. Labored breathing. No… crying?

Turning her head around a little as she stopped, Kate held up a hand to forestall Max’s questions. The streets were mostly vacant, so it took her a second to find the source, in a narrow alley between the buildings nearby. Of all things, it was a uniformed policeman, turned away from the street, his head bowed as he leaned on the brick wall beside him.

Kate understood the importance of letting strangers have their privacy, but something about the sight was so surreal – a police officer, crying? – that she couldn’t just put it out of mind and move along. After a second, she stepped tentatively closer and spoke. “Um… Sir? Are you alright?”

The officer didn’t respond at first, but turned to look at her. He was a middle-aged man with a long face, brown hair, and green eyes, a little red around the edges. She saw a name badge pinned to his breast pocket – Norris. He took a second to compose himself before answering with a firm nod. “Thought it was quiet enough this morning that nobody would notice.”

“I guess everyone’s nursing Fourth of July hangovers?” Max ventured, smiling uncertainly.

Officer Norris laughed gruffly and shook his head. “Could well be. Don’t worry about me, ladies, just working through some stuff. Nothing you need to be concerned about.” Then he paused, giving them each a searching look. “Are you in town for the holiday?”

“We’re visiting for the week,” Kate said.

“In that case, have fun in Desert Green. And… stay out of trouble.” He tipped his hat to them, then stepped around them to head along his way.

Soon Kate forgot about the encounter, fixated on some fresh coffee. Her day was just beginning.

Kate’s day was drawing to a close, little by little. It was just turning to evening, orange sunlight creeping over the rocks to cast them in fiery colors. She watched the colors slowly change as she hiked along in a column with the others.

She liked to think that she was doing a pretty good job of keeping up the pace despite not being the outdoorsiest girl in the world. They’d been navigating the forest just outside of town to a prospective campsite for the last hour, leaving behind the buildings of Desert Green for a true wilderness such as she’d never seen. The conditions were definitely a little more trying than the hike she and the others took back in February, thanks to the sun and heat, but she was getting by.

Just ahead was Brooke, recovered from her morning headache, who was keeping up pace admirably. (Kate was definitely not thinking about the sight of Brooke in tight athletic shorts. Nope. Not at all.) Ahead of Brooke at the front of the pack, Chloe looked very proud of herself for hauling all the tents and camping equipment on her back, a sheen of sweat on her pale skin. Behind, Max kept Pompidou on a fairly loose leash as she listened to Liz.

“... The first American settlers showed up in the late 1800s, but my family’s been here for way longer than that. So my mom says, anyway. It was a sleepy place, aside from some early attempts to kickstart a movie filming industry here.”

“So when did all the woo-woo junk start?” Brooke called over her shoulder.

Liz laughed at the descriptor, undeterred. “In stages, but mostly after the hippie and new-age movement began. Still, there really is something strange about Desert Green, and it started way before the hippies did.”

“Something like what?” Max asked, honestly curious. Pompidou snuffled the ground just ahead of her, as if checking her path was safe.

“Just something that seems to draw everything weird and unusual in the world here, sooner or later. Cryptids, weird weather phenomena, ghosts. There were tons of spirit mediums living in Desert Green back in the 1800s. Some of them were my family!”

Kate stopped listening somewhere around ‘weird weather phenomena’, her eyes tracking toward Brooke. Did someone with the power to see the future count as something ‘weird and unusual’? If so, she guessed Liz was right. The quick smirk and shrug Brooke shot her led Kate to believe that her thoughts were running along similar lines.

It was nice of Liz to act as their tour guide for this little camping trip, though if Kate had to guess, the girl probably mostly accepted it as an excuse to hang out. From what little Kate had seen of her over the last day, Liz appeared to keep to herself and didn’t have a lot of friends.

Despite that eagerness to engage, there was something paradoxically tentative about Liz’s demeanor. Kate recognized it – she saw it in Brooke, from time to time, and figured it might just be an introvert thing. But she couldn’t help the feeling that Liz was holding something back; that her tentativeness was just a little too performative.

But Kate was sure she was just imagining things. What would a girl like Liz possibly have to hide?

After a gorgeous sunset and some sweaty work staking in the tents and getting a firepit going, the group sat on top of a rocky bluff around a crackling campfire, enjoying some s’mores – and some hoppy beer from Chloe’s cooler in the RV, which Kate didn’t care for. Either way, it was nice to see everyone relaxing after a long day.

“I never thought I’d say it, but I’m all photo’d out.” That was Max, turning a marshmallow over on a stick, Pompidou sitting beside her. Kate didn’t want to know how many dollars’ worth of Polaroid film she’d burned through during the hike and the sunset after.

“It was cool getting to watch you work,” Liz told her with a bright smile. “I know our gear is pretty different, but you still gave me some good ideas about how to improve my own photography.”

“That’s our Magic Max for ya,” Chloe chimed in after a swig of her drink. She prodded the white-hot chunks of wood at the bottom of the fire, producing a flurry of sparks which, like fireflies, rose into the night sky.

“It’s still all Greek to me, but it’s interesting to see that there’s someone who can match Max’s photography freak levels.” Brooke bumped her shoulder into Kate’s as she said that. They were seated snugly together on a log, Kate’s arm snaked around her girlfriend’s lower back. As she spared Brooke a glance, Kate noted again that Brooke had been giving Liz the same searching looks she’d been. Had she noticed something amiss too?

Chloe rolled her eyes at Brooke’s remark. “Liz is definitely on that level, sure, but there were plenty of people at Blackwell with photography obsessions. I bet Max was geeking out with them when you weren’t looking.”

Max smiled, a little abashed. “Ah… I mean, you’d be surprised. I was never the best at actually talking to any of them.”

“Blackwell?” Liz spoke up, with a faint air of recognition. “Is that the school you went to, Max?”

“We all did,” said Brooke.

“At one time or another,” was Chloe’s mumbled addendum.

“It was in Arcadia Bay, Oregon,” Max said, her own enthusiasm muted.

Liz’s expression turned more solemn, apologetic almost. “Oh. Isn’t that the town that…? Sorry.”

“It was,” Kate answered. “We just barely made it out.”

“Now you know why we had to get as far away as possible,” said Brooke, a rueful laugh under her breath. Kate rubbed her back comfortingly.

“It wasn’t just that,” Max hastily added, trying to brighten the dark mood. “We all wanted a chance to see the world now that we’re graduated.”

“We’ve seen some hella cool things,” Chloe said, taking her girlfriend’s cue.

“I even worked out some gender stuff for the bargain,” Brooke finally added, wagging a hand in a lazy wave.

Liz perked up, her marshmallow nearly slipping into the fire off her stick. “Oh, you’re…? Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. I didn’t even ask your pronouns yesterday.”

“Still she and her for the moment. I’m non-binary but still working some things out.”

“Cool,” said Liz, pulling her morsel back in time before it fully burned. “I’m… Okay, I don’t make a habit of blurting this out to everyone in the world or anything, but I figure you should know before you hear somebody around town say anything off about me. A lot of them knew me before I was ‘Liz’, so…”

Kate realized what Liz was driving at. “Oh! You’re…?”

“A trans girl,” Liz finished, gesturing at herself as if to say, ‘here I am’. “And I’m comfortable telling you that because, well, you girls seem cool. And gay. Well… you girls and Brooke.”

Brooke seemed to appreciate that, straightening up a little and sending a grin Liz’s way. “Damn right we are.”

“You go girl,” Chloe added. “Your secret’s safe with us or whatever.”

“Well,” Liz said after absorbing that, “no matter the reason, I’m glad you all made your way down here. Since I graduated, I haven’t really had many people around here my own age. I don’t feel ready for college yet, kind of like you guys I guess, so I’m stuck here for now. You all being here is gonna make this week easier for me.”

“Here’s to being gay and not going to college, then?” Brooke raised her beer can, followed by the others, who mostly repeated the toast in the form of light and carefree laughter.

Kate looked on with a smile of her own. She guessed it made sense now why Liz had gravitated to the four of them so readily. She could also now make sense of the fact that Liz had been keeping something hidden. So she put the whole matter out of mind – for the rest of the night, at least.

Chapter Text

Tuesday, July 8th 2014 – Part One [ Brooke ]

Brooke awoke from an indistinct dream of ruffled feathers to a world that was still dark. The guest bedroom in the Sauceda house was silent and murky around her, only the sound of Kate’s soft breathing present to reassure her that she wasn’t still dreaming.

Slowly rising, Brooke let her eyes adjust to the low light and looked to her left, where Kate still lay fast asleep. Overtaken by a pang of fondness, Brooke smiled and leaned down to kiss Kate’s temple. There was only a quiet hum in response, and Kate did not move. Feeling the call of nature, Brooke left it at that, carefully swinging her legs out of bed and leaving the room on quiet steps.

The first half of their week in Desert Green had proved fairly uneventful by her standards, characterized mostly by exploring some part of town in the day and hitting up local restaurants at night. So far they had gone on a Jeep tour, sampled rattlesnake fritters, seen Old West re-enactors at work, and walked around many, many art galleries. Brooke’s initial skepticism about the place had eroded a little, and she was allowing herself to have fun.

It had also been nice to get to know Liz a bit. Martha, just like she’d forecasted, had been in and out of the house at odd hours and hadn’t been available as a hostess too much. Liz was filling in for her in that capacity, which suited Brooke alright, since she thought Liz was fun. The girl fit in well with the vibes of their group in general, and she could see them being friends if they were here for more than a week.

Some questions still lingered in the back of her mind though, something which only redoubled when she heard a voice along her 3 AM trek and slowed to a stop.

“... this could be our chance. They can do what I can’t. So maybe…”

The rest was too quiet and indistinct to follow, but it was Liz, sure enough. Brooke looked and saw her bedroom door was slightly ajar, the light on inside. Voice chatting with people online, maybe? Nobody made phone calls this late at night.

“Tomorrow,” Liz continued, seemingly in response to her unheard conversation partner. “I’m… Of course I’m scared. I don’t want them to hate me.”

Them? She had to be talking about Brooke and the others, right? Now curious despite herself, Brooke crept closer and peeked inside.

Even without her glasses, Brooke could tell just fine that Liz wasn’t at her desk. She was seated on the edge of her bed, her back turned to Brooke.

No matter how Brooke squinted, she couldn’t discern a phone in Liz’s hand, or a headset on her head.

“I know,” Liz said to no one, sounding a bit miserable. “I know I shouldn’t. Sorry.”

Liz sniffled and lifted her head after saying that, as if looking at somebody. When she spoke again, she sounded like she’d regained a little heart. “I will. L–... love you. Talk again soon.”

A moment of silence drew out. Brooke expected Liz to say something else, but she didn’t. But she did start to shift, and looked toward the door. Not sure if she’d been detected in the dark hallway or not, Brooke quickly ducked away and silently moved down the hall to the bathroom, all the way pondering what she’d just witnessed.

Martha was gone the next morning, so it fell to Kate, the first to rise, to man the stovetop. She was already hard at work when Brooke made it to the kitchen bright and early, frying something for the five of them. Kate turned her head and sent an even sunnier smile Brooke’s way than usual. Returning it in her own awkward way, Brooke shuffled over and gave Kate a quick one-armed hug, allowing the other to kiss her on her cheek.

“Morning,” Brooke mumbled, her voice still gruff. She hadn’t gotten to sleep for a while after her bathroom trip last night.

“Morning yourself. Go ahead and sit, I bet the others will be a while.”

Kate’s forecast ended up being correct. The first to join them was actually Pompidou, who arose from his doggy bed near the front door and padded over to greet Kate by nosing against her hand. She patted him absently as she worked, though he remained expectantly for bacon bits that were not to materialize. Frank really spoiled that dog.

Next came Max, her hair a ruffled mess. She still smiled at the both of them before slumping into a seat. A yawning Chloe came not very long after, though at a slow, reluctant pace, scratching her lower back and then scooting her chair as close to Max’s as possible.

By the time Kate brought some eggs, bacon and sausage over to the table, Chloe was finally awake enough to ask, “Where’s Liz at?”

Brooke froze midway through spreading jam on an English muffin. She didn’t have time to voice an opinion on the matter before Max spoke up, looking around as if she could somehow discern their hostess’s daughter hiding in some corner of the room. “She’s normally up about the same time I am. I hope she isn’t sick or something?”

With recollections of last night returning, Brooke furrowed her brow and stared down at her plate. Should she say something?

Before she ever got the chance, Liz manifested, looking a little tired and frazzled. She slid into one of the remaining empty seats and accepted a plate of food from Kate without a fuss. Not remarking on her late arrival at first, she just ate, seeming to have a heavy weight on her mind.

Looks passed among the others at the table as they took note of her mood. Brooke shrugged at Kate, who was the bravest of them in the end, speaking first. “Did you sleep alright, Liz?”

Liz blinked, a mouthful of food not quite dealt with, and swallowed heavily before she managed to answer. “Oh. You know, fine, I guess. Just had some bad dreams.”

Brooke wondered whether to call her on it. Ultimately her own cowardice won out, though Max pressed on without her.

“You do look kind of wiped out. And in a downer mood… Are you sure there’s nothing going on?”

Max’s gentle prodding did the job where Brooke’s accusations probably would not have. Liz visibly wavered, pushed her seat out a little, and then sighed heavily. “There’s something I haven’t told you guys about until now. I didn’t… I mean, I wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Not even after I figured out who you were.”

“What do you mean?” Brooke asked, leery.

“After our camp-out, when I looked you up online. Saw what you’d really been through…”

Max winced, and Kate sucked in a breath through her teeth. Chloe looked more dour suddenly, and more awake too, leaning forward. Pompidou, oblivious to it all, sat on the floor, staring at them.

“Christ,” Brooke uttered, pushing her plate away in the absence of some better object to express her disgust. “We really can’t get away from this crap anywhere, can we?”

Liz’s eyes widened. Was she alarmed by the reactions? In the moment, Brooke didn’t give a shit. “Wait, I can explain…”