Archive of Our Own

The sun shone brightly. Magpies circled high in the sky.

Vi liked to pretend the sun bothered her.

She had seen passersby squint, lifting their hands to shield their eyes, brows furrowing as though light itself were an inconvenience. She liked the idea of that, of being able to decide something was too much.

The difference was, she couldn’t move.

She was simply there, rooted. Rain, thunder, lightning, none of it mattered. She did not flinch. She had no eyelashes to blink grit away, no fingers to streth or curl into fists. Only straw, bound and stiff. Two buttons for eyes. A smile stitched so tightly it had never once faltered.

Sometimes she grew tired of watching the wheat.

Day and night. Day after day.

Her whole life.

Life.

The word never quite settled right inside her.

Still, she found ways to pass her time. She gathered memories like loose threads and worried at them until they frayed.

Days. Months. Years.

It was all the same when nothing changed.

except that one day, she was in her usual spot, as always, when a brave crow landed on her shoulder.

Huh?

Isn't that absolutely thrilling, fascinating even? As far as she knew, she was there to keep the birds away, but look at this little friend, pecking at the side of her face.

The aggressive pecking made one of her eyes pop out, but Vi didn't mind. It was the first time ever she hadn't been alone, and after all, it wasn't like she could feel pain.

She liked that something chose to be close to her, even if only to take her apart.

When the crow left, it did not look back.

It never returned.

But Vi kept it.

She told the story over and over, offering it to the moon like a prayer.

The moon, her closest confidante. Vi couldn't really call her company, but she liked how free she was, how she came and went. Vi wished she could be like her. It wasn't that she didn't care about the wheat field; She just imagined herself following the moon sometimes, just for a little while. Not leaving forever. Just… stepping away. Just long enough to know what it felt like to not be here.

But the thought never stayed long.

It wasn't something that weighed heavily on her mind. It wasn't as if she knew what lay beyond where the moon went when the sun dazzled her. Perhaps there was only more wheat.

Better, perhaps, to be trapped somewhere familiar than lost somewhere endless.

Tap, tap, tap

Rain

It soaked into her slowly, seeping through cloth and straw, heavy and cold in a way she could not quite feel but could not ignore.

What a shame.

She liked this jacket.

It belonged to a judge, she heard. It has patches on the elbows and mended buttons, but it still makes her feel important. 

She didn't get it long ago. Before she wore it, she overheard the farmer saying something about the birds becoming desensitized by habit to her clothes. She isn't entirely sure, though; it's hard to hear when they take her head off her shoulders. All she knows is that it happened the day after her crow friend visited her for the first and last time.

So she was alone again, always alone.

What a sad fate. Even the rain comes and goes as it pleases, and she can't even cover her forehead with her hands when she pretends the sun bothers her.

Oh, too bad. That's just what it is to be a scarecrow.

And that's all right, because then night fell and the moon returned. Vi told her the same story again, and as always, the moon listened attentively. Today there are stars too. The stars make Vi a little nervous; speaking about her most cherished memories in front of such a large and important audience isn't her forte. They're so distant, so silent. She feels small in her linen suit and rubber gloves.

She promises the audience that she doesn't mind the loneliness, but she doesn't like how the rats feast on her tie every night. She cries softly about it. She feels scared and desperate when it happens, and damn it, she can't even scare them away. They slowly eat pieces of her while she stands there doing nothing, looking up at the sky. "If only I could move a little to the south, or the north, even the west... if only I could move."

Sometimes she thinks she's noticed the moon looking at her with compassion, but it's probably just her imagination.

Vi has an important job, watching over the wheat field, but she can't help wondering why she's the only one nailed to a stake that prevents her from breathing. The moon comes and goes, as does the sun; the rain appears and disappears at will; even the wheat dances in the breeze. But she remains stuck there.

Years passed.

Or something like them.

The farmer never returned. The wheat dried where it stood, brittle and gray, collapsing into itself season after season.

The rain grew scarce.

The rats disappeared.

Even decay, it seemed, had the decency to leave eventually.

Vi remained.

She now wears a hat a couple of centuries old, so she can't even pretend the sunlight bothers her.

But she doesn't care anymore. She has failed in her mission. And now that there's nothing left to watch over, nothing left to protect, she wonders what keeps her tied to this place. 

Then she remembered the stake driven through her spine.

That seemed reason enough.

On a rainy day, she saw lightning strike the earth in the distance, and for the first time she didn't wish to move, she wished to be struck by one of those, to be chosen even if it was by violence. If only… if only she could be so lucky.

Suddenly, there was a rustling of dry leaves, and if Vi had a heart, she would have felt it thump so hard it would have hurt.

And it was... God, what is that?

A girl, high boots caked with mud, leaves clinging to her pristine white button-down shirt, and cheeks tinged pink with tears still clinging to her eyelashes.

And those blue eyes, Vi had never seen such a blue before, brighter than the sky. The blue of her hair, however, she did recognize; it was the blue of midnight, the color that wrapped itself around the moon when Vi spoke to it.

Was this woman the moon? Maybe Vi had been right, and the compassion she saw in that far away friend wasn't a dream.

"absolute dimwits!” the girl shouted.

Vi was stunned.

“I’m trying to be nice, I’m trying to fit in, to… shit, I’m just trying to live my life. Is that a crime?”

No, Vi didn’t know the law, but she was pretty sure it shouldn’t be.

The girl seemed furious, but Vi somehow recognized the sadness behind her words, the pain of swallowing a lump in her throat.

“And you know what the worst part is?” the girl said to Vi.

This had never happened before. She had never been spoken to before. Vi felt like the sky and the earth were about to split in two.

“That I could do something about it,” she said, her voice tightening. “They think they can treat me like rubbish because I don’t say anything. But I could. My mum would never stand for it…”

She let out a breath that intended to sound like a laugh, but didn't make it.

“…but then what does that make me?”

Silence.

“If I have to force people to accept me,” she whispered, “then I don’t want to be accepted.”

The girl sniffed, dragging the back of her hand under her nose, smearing dirt across her cheek. She stared at Vi for a moment too long, like she was expecting something back.

Vi tried.

God, she tried.

She gathered everything she had, every story she’d ever told the moon, every word she’d shaped in the quiet, and pushed.

Nothing moved.

Not her mouth. Not her hands.

Not even the thread of her smile.

“...Right,” the girl muttered.

She let out a short, humourless huff, shaking her head.

“Brilliant. Now I’m talking to a scarecrow.”

She nudged a clump of dry earth with the toe of her boot.

“Proper losing it, aren’t I?”

Vi wanted to tell her that it wasn't like that.

That she wasn't crazy, that it wasn't her fault she could speak, it was Vi's fault she couldn't respond.

The girl didn't leave. She paced back and forth in the grass, crossing and uncrossing her arms as if she couldn't decide what to do with herself.

"You're a good listener, you know?" she said after a moment. "Better than most things, at least."

That's a huge compliment. There are dozens of things in the world, Vi suspects there might even be hundreds.

"They don't even tell you to your face, you know?" the girl continued murmuring. "It's just little things. Laughing as you walk by, like you're not supposed to notice."

She glanced at Vi again.

"But I notice," her voice cracked slightly at the end.

Vi felt bad for the girl. She'd never felt bad for someone who could move, and yet here she was.

Because she knows, she knows how hard it is to notice, how much it hurts.

Vi also noticed everything: every cloud that lingered too long, every change in the wheather, every tiny creature that came near to take something from her.

Noticing is not a gift; it is a sentence for those condemned to sit and watch.

Vi thought about the crow.

About its claws digging into her shoulder. About her dangling eye, its vision blurring in the dirt. About those few, impossible seconds when she didn't feel alone.

"Do you ever get bored?"

Vi would have laughed if she could.

"Stupid question, sorry." The girl huffed before an answer could come. "Of course you don't get bored."

She hesitated for a second and looked at the two gray buttons that adorned the scarecrow's face for a moment.

"Or maybe you do," she whispered. "Maybe you know how hard it is, being trapped in your own head, pretending you don't hear the insults when you do, pretending it doesn't hurt when it does."

Her voice grew softer, rasping at the edges.

"Pretending you're okay."

That afternoon, Vi discovered what it felt like to be understood.

The girl exhaled slowly, letting her shoulders slump.

"I'm sorry," she said with a small, shy smile, her apology sounding more like a habit. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this."

Then, more softly,

"You can't even escape my annoying company like others."

No, right now she'd be fine staying a little longer. What's one more stripe on the tiger?

"Don't tell anyone any of this, okay? I trust you."

For the first time ever, Vi didn't feel small. She felt like a star in the sky, like the moon must feel when Vi tells it her stories. Now Vi is someone's confidante, too.

The girl brushed off her shirt sleeves and pants and took a deep breath.

"Alright..." she pretended to say to herself, but Vi noticed her glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. "I'll see you around, I guess."

Then the girl turned to face her properly. "You'll still be here?"

And then with a little giggle, "Reckon you will."

The next day, Vi noticed a difference, but she couldn't say what it was specifically. The clouds; they're always changing, so it couldn't be that. The sun rose where it always does, and the wheat field remained dry and barren.

She strained, trying to identify the reason, and finally realized: the change was within her.

She was waiting.

She didn't remember ever doing that before, not for the sun, not for the rain, not even for the moon.

Vi never waited; she just... was.

Waiting implied that something would come.

And for Vi, nothing ever did.

It was that time of the day when the sun dips below the horizon, when the light is most intense and the air is slightly cooler.

That's when she heard her even before she saw her.

Vi would have stood up straighter and slicked her hair back if she could.

Instead, she stayed exactly where she was.

"Oh," the girl said when she got close enough to see her properly. "You're still here."

If Vi had pupils, she would have rolled them back so far into her skull that she could see her brain. This girl is such a brat.

Vi won’t admit how funny and amusing she finds her.

The girl adjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder and bit her lip thoughtfully, trying to decide her course of action.

For a moment it seemed she was going to say something else, but instead she scoffed, a little self-deprecating sound.

She threw her backpack on the ground, at the base of the post supporting Vi, and sat down beside her, as if it were nothing, as if she'd been doing it all her life.

"I'm only here because it's quiet," she murmured, not looking directly at Vi. "Don't get any ideas."

A pause.

"Not that you could, I suppose."

Brat, Vi thought, but she didn’t mind. She would have accepted any reason, any excuse.

The girl took out a book and crossed her legs, finding a comfortable position, then began to read silently.

Vi listened; not the story, but the rustle of the pages, the girl's soft breathing, the movement of her trousers as she adjusted her position.

It was peaceful, but not in the comatose way she knew.

This was life passing peacefully.

“You’re not a bad spot, you know,” the girl said after a while, eyes still on the page. “Bit creepy, yeah, but… quiet.”

She turned a page.

"It's pretty lonely too, it doesn't seem like anyone ever comes here."

Vi knows that better than anyone.

"Except me, I suppose."

Yes, except you.

“Which is sort of the point.”

The wind picked up a little, and the girl zipped up her sweater, moving a bit closer to Vi. She leaned her head against the wooden post.

Against Vi.

Everything inside Vi went still.

Even stiller, if that were even possible.

The contact was light, almost nothing, but... if she had a heart, it would have leapt out of her chest.

The girl didn't seem to notice; she just did it as if it were nothing. She continued reading, breathing. Still, but not frozen.

Time passed. Vi didn't measure it; it never made sense to. A couple of hours versus the infinity of nothingness made no difference.

Eventually, the girl sighed and pulled out another notebook. "Homework," she said, as if Vi were wondering. She wasn't, but she appreciated the mention anyway.

"I hate it," she said, glancing briefly up at Vi. "It's pointless, most of it."

Vi heard the sound of graphite on paper.

"Do you ever think about that? pointless stuff?"

Vi doesn't think about anything else. The wheat field is painfully inconsequential, and so is she.

"Course you don't," the girl said, shaking her head faintly.

She talked like someone used to answering herself.

At first, the sound of pencil on paper was soft and rhythmic, but as the minutes passed, it became more hurried and choppy.

"Stupid," she muttered. "This is all stupid."

The pencil hit the notebook, and the girl placed it on the floor, surrendering with a frustrated sigh.

She tipped her head back against Vi, as if it were her designated resting place.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got any answers, do you?” she asked.

Vi wished…

The girl huffed out a quiet laugh.

"Yes. I figured as much."But she didn't move, she didn't reprimand Vi for her inability to respond, she simply stayed where she was and shared her silence.

They both watched as the sun sank lower, as the shadows lengthened across the field.

"It's better here," she said distractedly.

"You're lucky, in a way."

Lucky? Definitely not.

"We're all lucky in some way, I think, but... when it's too close, we lose sight of it." She yawned. "Or maybe not, maybe things are just as bad as they feel."

When the girl finally stood up, it felt abrupt.

Too soon.

Always too soon.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder, brushing the dirt off her pants.

"Same time tomorrow, yeah?" she said, the words escaping her before she could stop them.

She froze for a moment.

As if she hadn't wanted to say it out loud.

"I mean, whatever, if I don't have anything better to do"

Nothing better? Vi will be waiting for her then; she has nothing better to do than that.

She watched the girl walk away into the distance

farther

and farther

And Vi remained, in the same place.

Alone

The girl didn’t look back.

But she came back the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

It became a habit before Vi realized it.

The afternoons passed, a backpack lying on the floor, complaints about teachers and students, about small things that seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but which, in the desperation of the girl's voice, sounded monumental.

The highlight of Vi's day was when the girl, out of nowhere, decided to start reading aloud. Vi traveled to all sorts of worlds carried on the girl's tongue, taken to unknown and impossible realms in the sound waves of her voice.

Sometimes the girl would leave things behind, sometimes by accident, sometimes on purpose.

A blanket, a book, that time she dropped the ribbon that held her hair, and when she realized it the next day, she picked it up from the floor and tied it around Vi's neck like a bow tie.

Vi liked it when she left things; it meant she was coming back.

"You're quite small for a scarecrow, you know?" she said one afternoon, giving the post a light nudge with her shoulder. "Aren't scarecrows supposed to be tall and intimidating? But look, I'm taller than you."

That day Vi learned what it meant to be offended.

"Don't be mad, though," the girl said with a charming smile. "I like you just the way you are."

The girl paused and narrowed her eyes at Vi.

"Don’t let it go to your head though.”

It was a particularly quiet day when the girl arrived later than usual. There was no wind, no birds.

Her steps were slower, as if she were dragging her feet. Her eyes were tired and red.

She didn't say anything at first, just carelessly threw her things on the floor and lay down next to Vi, snuggling up to her.

Vi heard soft sobs at the foot of her legs.

"They threw my backpack in the pool,"

she said eventually.

"My notebooks are all wet and ruined, and the teacher didn't even say anything."

Now that Vi was paying attention, yes, her backpack was soaked where it lay on the ground, and now it was also covered in dirt and grass.

"I know it's stupid," she sniffed. "It's just a backpack and a couple of books."

But her voice trembled nonetheless.

Vi understood; it's never just about the thing.

It's not the wheat; it's that she doesn't understand why it died even though she was so attentive.

It's not the moon; it's that she doesn't understand why it never answers even though she's always talking to it.

And it's not the notebooks or the backpack; it's that the girl probably doesn't understand why someone would do something like that.

The girl exhaled a trembling sigh and raised a hand, running it through her hair. Then, without thinking, she reached out. Her fingers brushed against the fabric of Vi's sleeve.

Vi ceased to exist for a second.

The girl hesitated, as if she had just realized what she was doing. Her hand remained there, resting on the worn fabric, feeling its roughness. The unevenness hidden beneath.

And then... Straw.

"Hm," she murmured.

From what Vi could tell, the girl wasn't disgusted or scared, just curious, and she left her hand there as if she were holding Vi's.

And Vi clung to that with every fiber of her being, with every breath, with every deep, aimless longing of her soul.

Because for the first time ever, someone touched her and didn't take something away.

The girl let go after a while. "sorry," she said, a little embarrassed.

"You're falling apart a little, aren't you?"

She's been falling apart for years, and yet somehow she's still here.

The next day, the girl was nowhere to be seen. At first, Vi didn't think anything of it. The sun rose and set as always, but each time it disappeared a little more, and there were still no soft sounds of boots on the ground, no annoyed sighs, no backpacks fell at the foot of her post. Only silence, and absence.

Vi waited.

Perhaps she had been waiting all her life, but she had never felt this disappointment when nothing came.

She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter, that people didn't come every day.

The rain didn't, nor did the birds, so why would the girl?

Even so, the sky darkened, and if Vi had teeth, they would be grinding to hold back the urge to cry.

It's so unfair how everything about her body is inert, and yet she can still feel so much inside.

By midnight, she had replayed every word and sound she had heard come out of Caitlyn's mouth.

Did Vi do something wrong?

The moon watched her from a distance, but Vi had nothing to offer.

The next day, hurried footsteps were heard, followed by tired gasps.

"Sorry," the girl said breathlessly, as if she had run the whole way and the words were overflowing from her.

"I'm sorry, I was supposed to... but I couldn't and... I'm just sorry."

She stopped right in front of Vi, her hands on her knees, trying to calm the rhythm of her heart.

Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were red again. Vi hated that now that she knew what it meant.

"I didn't..." she began again, then shook her head quickly. "I didn't mean not to come."

Vi didn't need an explanation. She didn't need anything.

Everything she could ever need was right in front of her, tired and trying to catch her breath.

The girl approached Vi, straightening the lapels of her suit jacket.

"Did you..."

She hesitated.

Did I miss you? Of course I did.

The girl chuckled.

"Right, of course you didin’t, it's ridiculous, don't mind me."

Then she lowered her voice.

"I missed it... being here. Where there's no weight, where there's no pain."

The girl exhaled slowly, as if she had just confessed something she shouldn't have. Then she slumped down at the foot of the post, closer than usual this time. Closer than she had ever been.

She didn't take anything out of her bag. This time, she didn't look for a book, she didn't even pretend she was going to do anything.

She simply sat there.

"...My mother has been acting strange," she said after a while.

Her voice was monotonous, her words dull as if they were just a meaningless jumble of patterns.

“She says she’s fine,” the girl continued, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve. “But she’s not. You can tell when someone’s lying about things like that, right?”

A brief pause.

"Or maybe not, I don’t know.” 

She shook her head

“She’s tired. All the time. And she…”

The girl stopped and swallowed.

“She forgets things,” she said finally. “Little things. Where she put her keys. What she was saying. It’s…”

Her voice faltered slightly.

“It’s probably nothing,” she added quickly. “Just stress. That’s what she said.”

The wind didn’t stir. The field remained still.

“and I guess I just… I just don’t think it’s nothing.”

The girl leaned more of her weight against Vi, as if she were something that could hold her up.

Vi would have done it.

If she could, she would, without a doubt.

"Yesterday I was at the hospital all day with my mother. She told me to stop worrying." The girl scoffed. "As if. But I kept thinking about this place. Sad, isn't it? skipping on real life to come and sit next to a scarecrow."

That day Vi learned about perspective, because for her this wasn't sad; for her, this was her one and only precious source of happiness.

It's not sad, it's essential.

It's someone clinging to her, as if she were someone worthy of being hugged even when she can't hug back.

The girl stayed later that day.

"I've never liked it... not knowing things, not understanding what's going to happen."

Her shoulders tensed.

"What if something really bad happens and I don't realize it in time?"

Her hand squeezed Vi's tighter.

"And what if it gets to the point where I can't do anything anymore, the point where it's too late? Sometimes it feels like I'm already there."

Vi wanted to... God, why couldn't she?

Just a few inches, it didn't have to be a big step or movement, just enough to hold the girl, just enough for her to cry in her arms instead of on the cold floor.

Maybe, just her mouth, to say something, anything to ease that fear in the girl's voice.

But she couldn't.

And that hurt more than anything.

Finally, the girl stood up, in front of Vi, and brought her hand to her face.

“Your eye’s gone a bit wonky,” she said softly.

She took the button that was dangling and did her best to fasten it.

Carefully, with such care and gentleness that everything inside Vi shattered.

"There," she murmured, "that's much better."

The following days passed as usual, until one day Vi heard the girl arrive without saying a word. It was late. This time, she didn't apologize, nor did she offer an excuse. She simply stood in front of Vi and rested a hand on her chest, where her heart should be.

She looked tired, worn out somehow.

"They took her to the hospital."

Her backpack slid from her shoulder to the floor with a thud.

"They say it's for tests, but that's what they always say, isn't it?"

Vi had no way of knowing. Vi has no way of knowing most things, but Caitlyn always asks anyway.

"I hate hospitals, the smell, the light, the sound... everything about them gives me the creeps," she explained, her hand trembling almost imperceptibly on Vi's coat.

Vi wanted to.

No, it wasn’t a desire anymore.

More of a need.

To move.

To reach.

To fix with a touch, like Caitlyn did with her eye.

But she stayed exactly where she was.

“I had nowhere else to go,” she breathed. “And I know it’s stupid, I know this is all ridiculous, and I know I’m losing my mind, but I just…”

“I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Vi wasn’t enough to ease that pain; she knew that.

But maybe she was better than nothing, like that brave crow that perched on her shoulder that time.

It didn’t lighten her load, it didn’t fill the void, it didn’t change her loneliness, but it was something.

“Oh, I just realized I’ve never told you my name,” the girl smiled suddenly. “I always come here to talk your ear off, and I haven’t even had the courtesy to introduce myself.”

“I’m Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn, how beautiful, even more beautiful than moon, even more monumental in Vi’s opinion.

“Do you have a name?” Caitlyn touched her chin thoughtfully. “Probably not. You need one, don’t you? Otherwise, what would I call you?” she murmured.

“What do you think of Violet? It’s my mom’s favorite flower. I think they’re quite beautiful, too.”

If Vi had blood running through her veins, it would have all pooled in her cheeks, making her blush.

The girl rummaged in her backpack for a marker and, with the lightest, sweetest movement, wrote under her eye:

Vi

“Vi for short, keep Violet just for me, okay? In return, I’ll let you call me Cait, just you.”

It was at that moment that it happened, she realized, all the memories, all the years, all the waiting, this was the moment that triggered them.

Before Caitlyn, before her christening:

She had always simply been.

There was nothing behind or before her existence, and Caitlyn created it all.

“Vi…” Caitlyn tasted the name on her tongue. “It suits you, unless you hate it.”

No, she doesn’t hate it; it’s perfect.

For the first time in her life, she was something.

And having a name changed everything. It wasn’t that she hadn’t existed before; it’s that when time and space merge in a life of nothingness, the past and the future intertwine and become indistinguishable.

But Caitlyn marked a turning point.

It was then that Caitlyn rested her forehead on Vi's shoulder.

"She looked so small in that bed, Vi, so fragile. And I, I didn't know that was possible. My mother was always the tallest person in the world, the strongest… unbreakable, and now I'm taller than her, and I have to be careful not to hug her too tightly."

Tears soaked Vi's shoulder, and the longing became unbearable. Too intense. Too anguished.

Vi didn't want to watch anymore. Didn't want to listen.

Didn't want to stay there, understanding while Caitlyn was collapsing against her.

She wanted… to hold her.

To press her hands against her back and stop her trembling.

To tell her that everything would be alright, even if it wasn't true.

To give her something solid to lean on, something that wasn't just this.

that wasn't just straw and rags.

But she couldn't.

And that tormented her. Destroyed her. Killed her slowly.

Cait's breath caught in her throat again. "I'm scared," she admitted.

Her voice so small it disappeared into the rustling of the leaves.

And Vi had nothing.

nothing to give her.

Caitlyn left again, promising to return the next day, and when Vi could no longer see her, even in the distance, she realized that the wheat field no longer felt endless; it felt empty.

Caitlyn didn't return the next day.

Vi waited and waited, convincing herself that she would come. It didn't matter if it was true or not; she just had to keep repeating it to herself over and over, as many times as necessary.

She will come.

The thought wasn't comforting, it was necessary.

Two days later, Vi heard the footsteps again.

Slow, clumsy, listless. Wrong.

Caitlyn stumbled into view as if her limbs were foreign to the rest of her body.

Her hair was the same as always, her eyes were the same as always, even the outfit she was wearing was one Vi had seen before.

But her gaze, no, it wasn't the same as always. Even on her saddest days, it wasn't so somber.

There was no backpack this time, which made sense because Caitlyn looked like she could barely even carry her own weight.

She walked toward Vi, or rather, she dragged herself.

And stood in front of her, face to face.

"She's gone."

No explanation followed that statement.

Just that.

Cait let out a sigh that broke in mid-air.

She brought her hands to her face, squeezing them tightly, as if she could hold something back if only she pressed hard enough.

"I was there," she said. "Doctor said... they said it was quick, that she didn't..."

Her voice cracked.

"Not even..."

Violent sobs escaped her chest in abrupt bursts

"I didn't even do anything," she stammered. "I just... stood there. Like... like that was all."

Vi felt something break inside her.

Cait ran her hands over her face, leaving red marks where her skin was tender from shedding so many tears.

"She kept saying it was nothing," she continued, the words stumbling over each other. "She kept saying she was fine and I... I let her. I just... believed her."

She exhaled a ragged breath.

"I should have known."

No. There's nothing you could have said.

"I should have done something."

No. That's not how it works.

"I should have..."

No. No. No. It's not your fault.

Caitlyn's voice broke completely, and with it, her body collapsed as well.

She crumbled gracelessly. She simply gave up and fell to the ground at Vi's feet, her shoulders were shaking, she was gasping for breaths she couldn't control.

Vi couldn't tear her gaze away.

Caitlyn curled up, clutching her arms as if trying to hold herself together.

"I don't know what to do," she sobbed.

Her sobs were raw, unfiltered, tearing Vi apart inside, with the potential to crack heaven and earth.

"She's just... gone." And now... I don't know what I'm supposed to do now with this emptiness.

Vi...

Move

This time, it wasn't a wish or a need

It was a demand

Move

Her whole being strained to do it.

Toward something impossible.

Please, Vi, please move

Her arms wouldn't move, her voice betrayed her, her legs stayed where they always had been,

And she wanted to scream, untie me from this stake that binds me to this wheat field and take me with you.

But nothing could be done.

So damned is her luck

Caitlyn began to cry harder, her chest must have ached, it must have felt as if her insides were being ripped out, or at least that's what it sounded like

Move.

Vi, please, just a little.

She tried.

God knows she tried, with all her might, but it was useless.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

What did she expect? She's a scarecrow.

"Please," Caitlyn whispered, to no one in particular.

I'm trying, Vi thought, I really am.

"Please," again.

And Vi wanted to, she wanted to hold her, dry her tears, chase away her nightmares, lull her to sleep.

But she couldn't move.

She tried everything that could motivate her to move: love, violence, exhaustion, but she just remained rooted to the spot.

She couldn't, no matter what, she simply couldn't.

And that truth was unbearably crushing and cruel.

Caitlyn's grip faltered.

Her sobs didn't stop, but they changed.

Quieter now.

More hollow.

As if something had consumed her completely, leaving only ashes.

She slowly stepped back, letting go of Vi's coat.

Caitlyn didn't look up. Who knows, if she had, maybe she would have found more than just two buttons staring at her. Probably not, but maybe.

"This is nonsense," she whispered.

No, it isn't.

"I don't even know why I keep coming here."

Because...

"There's nothing here... you're just a scarecrow, and somehow I convinced myself that you're all I have, but the truth is, I have nothing."

Vi felt that statement sink into her, forever.

Caitlyn stood up, turned around, and left, without touching Vi, without another word, without a promise to return tomorrow. She was simply there one moment and gone the next.

And from then on, she never returned.

Days, months, and years passed, and Vi remained.

The sky continued its endless cycle, and all Vi had left of that girl was her own name.

She discovered that it's rather pointless to have one when there's no one to say it.

And Vi was alone, and empty, and she understood that moving forward isn't just about movement.

It was about everything.

And she understood it too late, when the effort was no longer worthwhile if there was no reason.

Time continued as always, feeling inconsequentially endless. Until one day, in the distance, she heard a voice calling her name.

A voice she recognized.

“Vi...” the sound was muffled and distant, as if it didn't belong to this world.

“Vi, my heart, wake up.”

The wind disappeared and the sun went out.

She felt a tug, as if someone were saving her from drowning.

Vi woke up in panic, her breathing was shallow and uneven.

The air returned to her lungs so quickly it hurt, her body sat up abruptly, and every bone ached.

She gasped again, a stifled sound halfway between a sob and soundless scream.

But then two incredibly gentle hands cupped her face with the delicacy of a feather's touch.

“Hey, it's okay, my love, it was just a nightmare, everything is alright.”

Vi melted at the touch.

“Vi, look at me.”

That voice, that's the voice she knows, the only voice that has ever spoken to her.

Vi forced her eyes open, and there they were, eyes a blue deeper than the sea and a gap between her teeth sweeter than honey.

“Cait…” her voice broke. Upon saying the name

“I’m here, breathe with me, it was just a dream.”

But Vi shook her head, because it wasn’t, it wasn’t just a dream.

But she couldn’t explain it, how do you explain a lifetime of stillness?

“Your hands are trembling, Vi,” Caitlyn said, taking them in her own. “Was it a really bad dream?”

“They’re moving,” Vi whispered looking at her hands.

Caitlyn frowned, confused, but before she could say anything, Vi surged and seized the opportunity she felt she’d been waiting for for ages. She took Caitlyn in her arms and hugged her as tightly as she could.

Caitlyn was a bit startled at first, but eventually, she just let Vi hold her. As the minutes passed, they found themselves with Vi leaning against the headboard and Caitlyn between her legs, on top of her.

Vi had one arm around her waist, the other on her shoulders, and her nose buried in the crook of her neck. The position wasn’t exactly comfortable, but Caitlyn just let Vi take what she needed.

“I was stuck.”

Caitlyn took advantage of Vi loosening her grip slightly to adjust herself, but the moment she made a small movement, Vi tensed, and her eyes looked panicked into Caitlyn’s.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said with a smile. As worried as she was about Vi, she would always find relief in Vi seeking comfort in her instead of shutting down.

Vi let Caitlyn settle into her lap and rest her head on her chest, holding her close.

“You couldn’t move,” Caitlyn encouraged her to continue.

“There was this girl, and she… she needed me,” Vi sniffed, “and I needed her.”

Caitlyn listened without interrupting.

“Before her, I didn’t even know I wanted anything,” she said. “Not entirely. Not enough to…” The words caught in her throat.

“That sounds like it must have been very difficult.” Caitlyn ssaid.

Vi chuckled, her voice trembling with Caitlyn’s endless patience.

“I just stood there,” she said. “Even when everything else… and when I finally had something I wanted, I still couldn’t.”

“And what did you want?” Caitlyn asked gently.

“To hold her,” the words flowed instantly, without a hint of doubt. “Tell her she wasn’t alone, make the pain stop… Don’t leave you alone.”

Caitlyn suspected it, but her breath still caught at the admission.

“But I just stood there.”

Caitlyn took a deep breath. “That sounds like you cared a lot.”

“It wasn’t enough,” Vi said sharply. “That didn’t change anything,” she murmured.

Caitlyn leaned forward slightly to meet her eyes, gently stroking her cheek.

“You were there, even when you couldn’t do anything, even when it hurt, you were there.”

“She always came back, even when I thought she wouldn’t anymore. She came to see me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t even met you halfway, until one day she just stopped coming, because she trusted me and I…”

“and you couldn’t move.” Caitlyn whispered

Tears streamed down Vi's cheeks

"Yes, and I still can't."

And there it was, it wasn't about the dream, it wasn't about the wheat field, it was about the truth that underlies her daily life

"But I'm here, Vi, and I always will be."

"Until you get tired of waiting."

"That's the thing, Vi. I'm not waiting for anything. Since I've had you by my side, my life stopped being about finding something and became about treasuring you, because you make me better. With you, I never feel alone, and even when you think you've hit rock bottom, you're the one who holds me up."

Vi repeatedly kissed Caitlyn's neck and cheeks, her kisses mingled with her tears.

"I just don't know how to go on like this."

"Like what?"

"It was my responsibility. To care, to protect, and I failed, and now I don't know what to do because you're different, Cait. You're the first person who's ever taken care of me, who protects me and at some point I relaxed and now I realize that I can't go on without you. Move forward without you… but if I get stuck, I don't want to get in your way.”

“I can't move on without you either, Violet, and our journey will be as long as we decide it to be.”

Caitlyn then kissed her passionately and lovingly, not because she thought it would prove anything, or because she thought it would fix anything, simply because she loved Vi so much that she couldn't bear not kissing her.

Vi's hands found Caitlyn's back, clinging tightly, as if afraid she would disappear if she didn't hold on tight enough.

Caitlyn didn't pull away.

They both held each other. Tightly.

Caitlyn finally broke the kiss, breathless and with her eyes closed. “I can help you,” she murmured against her lips.

“How?” Vi asked.

“I don't know everything yet,” she admitted. “But we can figure it out.” Caitlyn exhaled softly. “You don't have to do it all at once, and you definitely don't have to do it alone.”

“What if I can't?” She murmured,

“You already are, darling.”

Vi shook her head weakly. “No, I…”

“You told me,” Caitlyn said firmly. “You reached out to me. You’re here, with me.”

That’s true. Vi is here.

Not in the wheat field.

Her arms aren’t stiff; they’re holding Caitlyn.

“I don’t want to stay there.”

She wasn’t referring to the wheat field, but to the feeling.

Caitlyn nodded.

“I love you so much, Caitlyn. I never want to be without you.” Vi sobbed, and Caitlyn’s heart ached in her chest. “I love you more than I could ever put into words, and I’m so sorry I’m not all you deserve.”

“You’re so much more, so much more than I deserve.”

“I don’t know what’s out there. I don’t know if there’s anything else for me.”

“Yeah, that’s the point. But you won’t be alone.” Caitlyn smiled, and Vi could have sworn that all the love in the world was contained in that smile. “We have a whole lifetime to explore and discover who Violet is when she doesn’t always have to be waiting for a blow or an absence.”

“That sounds impossible,” Vi chuckled. “You… will walk beside me?”

“I would walk with you to the ends of the earth, but I would also stay in a wheat field for an eternity with you until you were ready to walk again.”