To the rest of the outside world things looked normal. Her days were spent cleaning and helping Robert around the house, and out running the occasional errand with Finn. Visitors would come and go, noticing nothing unusual about 1229 Bell st, except maybe it's unnatural clean and orderly state since the girl had moved in.
Davina didn’t know what to think about being considered an outsider. The people she met weren’t soulless husks that crawled upon the earth, they were the opposite actually. Each of them greeted and chatted to her about the weather, her outfit, how nice the house was starting to look, or bits of gossip. She had never met people more full of life than the citizens of Redwell. So how was it that some of these kind people could be involved in whatever it was that Finn was?
Heeding his advice, Davina did not attempt to follow him again. One night of running in the dark from Royal Guards was one night too many for Davina. That didn’t mean she had stopped watching him return home at sunrise every morning, or from snooping around his room/ Robert’s office. Not that she was proud of it (she totally was). She was back to square one though, his room empty of any personal effects except for the bag of clothing he had brought with them. The smell of sea salt and coffee stayed with her for the rest of the night.
It had been days since their night in the alley. The small cuts on her palm, which were already scabbed over and a light shade of pink, had been carefully hidden from Robert’s watchful eyes with long sleeves and cozy sweaters. At least the cold was good for something. Finn hadn’t brought up their little adventure nor had he spoken to her about...anything, really. He reverted back to speaking only when Robert was around and completely avoiding her, a hard thing to do in a small house but he found ways to get around that. He offered to run errands for Robert, willingly went into town for groceries, and even talked Robert into doing house calls for some of his clients by dropping off their supplies himself. The only time they saw each other was at dinner, which Robert insisted they sit down and eat together. Davina of course still watched him come home every morning, but Finn knew about it.
He had spotted the girl’s silhouette perched in the window the night after the guards broke up the meeting. She sat there every morning, a messy outline of bedhead and blankets draped over her shoulders. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew those wide eyes watched his every move like a cat staring down prey. He thought about waving to her sometimes but always thought better of it.
Keeping his distance wasn’t as easy as he had planned. Sure, he found ways to stay out of the house, but fuck, it was almost as if her ghost followed him. Every head of curly hair he walked by during his errands reminded him of her, and he swore he heard her breathy giggle twice, before he realized it was just the wind. He blamed it all on lack of sleep and nerves. The meeting spot had changed to a shitty abandoned storefront on the edge of town, making it harder for guards to find them, but meaning he had to walk farther and stay up even longer than before.
Bored and always half awake, he didn’t really listen to the meetings. He began questioning his attendance once people revealed why they wanted to join the group. The only thing this hodgepodge collection of roughly thirty to forty people had in common were their complaints toward the crowns. The real group had banned together over spilled blood, lost loved ones, and hatred. Petty bullshit like raised taxes, slow mail delivery, land allotment, or displeasure over who one of the crowns chose as a partner, were a waste of his time. And that was what he reported back to Mac.
His friend assured him that he wouldn’t have to attend for much longer, and he just needed someone to make sure the group didn’t do anything stupid, like draw the attention of the royal guards. Finn still wasn’t sure how those bastards found out about them. His mind was mulling over possible scenarios, like a spy, or leak in the group, when it happened.
He sat towards the back, like he’d always done, and let his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd. Someone had gotten up to point out some other injustice or law they disagreed with and he ignored them, like always. No one here looked like they could run a mile, let alone play double agent for the crowns. So how the shit did those guards know? The woman begged the group to…he tried to focus on what she was saying. “...not water their lawns for more than ten minutes”, he blinked in disbelief, was she serious? Yeah, he was wasting his time. Then he heard it.
The slow familiar metal chirping. He stood so fast his chair scrapped against the garbage littered floor and clattered noisily to the floor. Several curious heads turned towards him, stunned that the silent and grumpy man could make so much noise, the woman stopped monologuing about water consumption and soggy grass, insulted that she had been interrupted, but he didn’t care. The clicking got faster.
“Everybody out!” he bellowed. There was a beat of silence, and no one moved. Dumb fucks, “now!” Maybe it was the unwavering command his voice carried, or the fact that he was starting to scare some of them, but people began sprinting to the door. More than half of them were out when the explosion happened.
A flash of light, followed by a loud whooshing sound was all he remembered before a wave of pressure threw him out of the doorway and into the street. The tinkling sound of shattered glass was overshadowed by the sick thud of people hitting the ground. Then came the screams.
⟴
For once, it wasn’t a dream that woke her but hands on her shoulders shaking her.
“Kid? Kid wake up!” The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated the side of Robert’s worried face hanging above hers.
“Wha-what’s happening?” She sat up and threw the covers off her body, the cold of the room practically slapping her awake. “Robert?” He hadn’t said anything but even in the dimly lit room she could see worry and despair painted across his face.
“It's Finn,” the words came out of the man so quickly she almost missed it.
“Finn? What's wrong with him?” Her sleepy mind sprang into action, worrying that the Royal Guards had arrested him, or he’d fallen into the sea, or perhaps was missing. Her gaze darted from Robert’s concerned face to the window, the moon was still out, meaning it was too early for him to be back yet. Maybe Robert just noticed that he wasn’t in his room?
Taking a breath and running his hands through his graying hair Robert paced as he explained, “he’s hurt.” His mouth continued to move but the rest of his words melted together. It felt like someone had punched a hole in her chest and stole all of her air.
She must have looked like a sad fish, standing there blinking fast and trying to suck in air that wouldn’t come. But she had to know. “Waitwaitwait,” her words sounded frantic, “what happened?”
Robert paused, it was his job to keep this girl safe and he hated the very idea of what he was about to ask of her. “Finns hurt. There was an explosion or somethin’, I don’t really know but he's hurt. I’ve got him knocked out downstairs, but I need your help.”
“What do you mean ‘my help’? Should-shouldn’t we take him to a doctor?” That’s what people did right? They got hurt or sick and went to a doctor? The sisters lived in fear of illness or disease at the shrine, believing that an outside doctor would weaken their souls and hinder the healing process. The first doctor she had ever seen was the shadow man, and she wasn’t sure if he was a real doctor.
Robert shook his head slowly and Davina saw the conflict in his eyes, “we can’t.”
“Why not? He’s hurt right?” Just how injured was Finn? He was hurt enough for Robert to look like he’d seen a ghost and wake her up in the middle of the night, but not sick enough for a doctor. Was there a limit to how sick someone had to be in order to see a doctor?
“We can’t afford it and Finn wouldn’t want that anyway.” He had whispered it, like it was a secret but Davina heard the despair in his voice. “That’s why I need your help.” Taking a deep breath, his eyes were closed as he said the words, “I need someone with a steady hand.”
She nodded once jerkily and followed him from the room, throwing a sweater over her gown as they walked. Davina owed everything to the frantically calm man before her. Robert was turning on as many lights as he could while drawing heavy drapes across the windows, hiding their activity from prying eyes. Arms protesting from the amount of awkward collection of jars, and boxes he had asked her to bring downstairs, she almost dropped them as she walked into the dining room.
On the table she had so meticulously cleaned, laid Finn. His clothing was caked in an ashy dust, shards of glass, and a dark liquid her brain refused to acknowledge. Her mind instead focused on the fact that the knit hat that she’d seen him wear every day without fail was gone. A gash on his temple slowly oozed into his light brown hair, leaving a pinkish trail in its wake, and a few inches down was a trail of small scratches from his cheek to his chin. Almost as if his face has slides along concrete or a cheese grater. One of his arms laid oddly…crooked at his side while the other was curled protectively across his stomach.
What the sun happened?!
Almost as if he could read her thoughts Robert said “I don’t know what happened. But imma need another pair of hands to stop all that bleeding and reset that bone.” So that’s what was wrong with his arm.
Swallowing the fear trying to creep its way up her throat she squared her shoulders and balled her shaking hands into fists. “What do you need me to do?”
⟴
“Alright kid, now just make sure it goes through the three layers of skin and don’t pull too tightly.” Bent over Finn’s arm, Robert was surrounded by gauze and some material that once wet would harden into a protective shell, helping the broken bone to heal.
Just learning that there was more than one layer of skin, Davina nodded and muttered “three layers. Got it.” Now wasn’t the time to freak out and melt into the puddle of sweat and tears that her brain desperately wanted to become. Even if he did hate her, lie, and keep secrets, she wanted to help ease the pain Finn was clearly in. Though he was asleep his normally smooth and hardened face was crumpled in agony and every now and then his brows twitched, almost as if he were stuck in a bad dream.
Feeling as though she were caught in a bad dream too, Davina knotted white thread around the curved needle clutched between her fingers and tried to disconnect her brain from what her hands were doing. Instead of overthinking about how she was sewing the flesh on a person’s arm back together, she dwelled on the versatility of fishing line. Who knew?
Robert had used a pair of blunt-tipped scissors to cut away the ruined clothing, which she knew Finn would be pissy about if he wasn’t unconscious, which revealed even more damage. The right side of his torso was littered with bruises, a trail of dark purple and blue that looked anything but friendly. Upon further inspection a few of the shallow-looking cuts along his jaw and hands were imbedded with shards of reflective glass, which Robert picked out carefully and then covered in the same cream that her feet had been on her first day at 1229 Bell st.
It took two hours to fix whatever had happened to Finn.
Davina woke up the next morning to the sound of groaning and a stiff neck. Agreeing to watch over Finn and insisting Robert actually get a good night of sleep, she spent the night in one of the dining room chairs.
“Da fuck-gah,” his words were cut off by a sharp intake of pain. “Oh what the-?” She watched his face contort in pain as he tried to sit up.
Gingerly placing a hand onto the shoulder with the least amount of bruises, she gently pushed him back down. “Oh no no no, I ain’t stitchin’ you back up again!” His eyes widened, the deep green laced with pain and shock. Oh stars. “Robert!” He said to get him if anything happened, and she considered the color draining from Finn’s face, something. “Roberttt! Bobby!” Her voice echoed through the house, shrill and deafening.
There was a distant thud, the sound of things falling over, then Robert’s crabby voice growing closer. She heard him grumbling “dammit girl” under his breath as he stumbled into the room, not expecting the surprise wake up call. “What’s wrong?” Spotting Finn seemed to wake him up.
Davina offered to start breakfast while Robert double checked the bandages and caught Finn up on the events of the night. She tried not to eavesdrop as she filled up the kettle and scrambled a few eggs, but of course she did. Robert went into detail about how to care for the cast, when the stitches had to be removed, and began asking questions about how his head felt. She only stopped listening when their voices dropped and were too low for her to hear.
A few minutes later she reentered the dining room carrying a tray filled with food and hot tea. Robert had helped ease Finn off the table and into one of the chairs. He looked white as a sheet and seconds away from puking. Robert stressed the importance of getting food into his body, so Finn shakily ate a few bites for his sake. He managed to climb the stairs with their help shortly after, and would most likely be out cold for the rest of the day. If he hadn’t looked like roadkill, Davina would have pressed him about what had happened the night before.
Davina helped Robert clean up, medical supplies and the remains of breakfast covering her once clean table. As they worked she couldn’t help but notice the looks Robert kept shooting her out of the corner of his eye, something clearly on his mind.
“Kid,” and there it is. Sighing, he threw a rag over his shoulder, “we’ve got to talk about last night.”
“What about it?” She wasn’t quite sure what there was to talk about that could have him this concerned and upset. Conset? Upcerned? Her eyes flickered briefly to the stairs, she had really missed her bed last night.
He waved towards the chairs in the sitting room, “come on, sit down.” With the fire roaring away and the morning light coming in through the (now clean) windows, the room had a comforting air to it. Despite this warmth she had never seen Robert more worried, a bead of sweat was forming at his temple and his forehead was covered in creased lines.
“What’s wrong? Is it about Finn?” Clearing her throat and attempting to sound calm she added, “he’ll be okay right?” Not that she cared. Stars she hated that she cared.
“What? No, he’s fine. It’s ugh, I wanted to apologize.”
Well now she was really confused, “apologize for what?”
With how intensely he was staring at it, she was surprised his eyes hadn’t bored holes into the floor. “I never really wanted you to see things like that,” she knew from the emphasis in his voice he was referring to the bloody mess that had been Finn on their dining room table. “You’ve had enough happen to you in the past month and a half, I wasn’t gonna to add to that. If I had somewhere else to work out of I would, but I’d been pretty good about only allowin’ my easy clients around you.”
Things were starting to click together in her mind. She had never outright asked Robert what he did for a living but if she stepped back and thought about all of the strange visitors that came by it made sense. People would come by at all hours of the day in varying degrees of health, would receive something from Robert or would disappear into his office for a short period of time, and would come back a few days later looking better. Davina had never met a doctor before but she knew enough to know that whatever Robert was doing was helping people, and he never had anything to be sorry about with her. She tried to interrupt his speech and tell him this, but it was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself.
“That's why I started sending you on errands with Finn.” Wait what? “If I thought anyone was too intense for you to be around I made sure you were out of the house while they were here. It doesn’t happen too often, there’s only so much I can really do with herbs.” He shrugged as if what he did wasn’t amazing.
“What about last night though? That wasn’t all herbs. I didn’t even know you could make a-a second skin like that.” Peeking over at Robert had helped to lessen some of the squeamish nerves she’d had while stitching up the many cuts on her kind-of friend’s body. Humming in bashful appreciation, Robert nodded and quickly explained that that was pretty much the extent of his medical knowledge.
“Still though, I’m sorry you saw all that.” He had no problem with letting her pick up ingredients, or with organizing the shelves, her alphabetizing and color coding system was not one to be messed with, but her mopping up blood after breakfast was where he drew the line.
“Well I’m not.” That got his attention.
Weary of the sudden determination in her voice he finally met her eyes he carefully asked, “what do you mean ‘I’m not’.”
“Just that. I’m not sorry. I’m glad that-well wait, no I’m not glad that Finn got hurt. I’m glad that I got to help you,” she said, smiling up at him. Though she had been a bundle of nerves and was twitcher then the chickens at the shrine, a part of her was pleased that he’d thought enough of her to ask for help last night. “I want to keep doing it.” Seeing the disapproval and “no” about to come out of his mouth, she talked faster. “It doesn’t have to be anything as crazy as last night! It could just be little things like…” she didn’t actually know what the job actually entailed now that she thought about it. “Well, I don’t know. I could help Finn pick up supplies or whatever it is he does, or help with the easier clients. Oh! Or I could help keep track of inventory.” They kept track of inventory right?
Seeing that she would keep rambling if he didn’t say something, Robert held up his hands in surrender. “Alright alright! If ya wanna help so much then fine.” When she gasped in delight he was quick to explain that it wouldn’t be anything like last night, but her smile grew anyway. “It’ll be really boring, kid. Things like inventory, drying out roots, grinding herbs, measuring doses, and washing out jars.”
“I will be the best employee ever!” Was she smiling too hard?
“I ain’t payin’ ya either,” he said, shaking his head as he stood up.
“Whatever you say, boss.”
“Wanna be fired before ya even start?” He was trying his best to suppress the laughter building up in his chest as she mimicked locking her lips and throwing away the key. “We’ll start tomorrow, why don’t you try to get some more sleep, you look exhausted, kid.”
She shot him a pointed look, “gee, thanks. You don’t look like a basket of roses yourself, ya know.” She smiled as he barked out a laugh, but she did take up the offer to get more sleep.
⟴
Three hours later, her brain no longer feeling as though it was running on fumes, she hopped into the shower after noticing bits of dried blood still caked under her nails. The nightgown she’d been wearing would probably have to be tossed out or repurposed, faded red handprints were smeared down the front of it. No wonder Robert looked so apologetic, I looked like a crime scene. Thankfully the sweater she’d worn overtop of it was of a darker color and it’s fabric slightly easier to clean.
The flecks of red that swirled down the drain as she washed her hair and tried to scrape the underside of her nails, was slightly satisfying. For once, the blood she saw was a result of helping someone. It didn’t come from shadow men, nor was it the dripping mess from her nightmares.
To her surprise she heard Finn softly call out her name as she passed his room, stopping her wandering thoughts of dinner and her disjointed sleep schedule. The door to his room/ Robert’s office was slightly ajar, likely so Robert could check in on him without making too much noise. Finn was propped up on the folding cot he and Robert had assembled a few days ago, looking marginally less like roadkill than he had this morning. Seeing his eyes closed she backed slowly out of the dimly lit room, thinking she had imagined her name.
“Stay.” The voice sounded so...un-Finn like that she stared at his face, needing to see his mouth move along with the voice before she could believe that tight wobbly voice could ever come out of him. Coming closer to peer at his face, she could see that the small cuts on his jaw had a ring of pink around them that would likely turn into a purplish bruise in a day or two. The cut on his temple was hidden under a thick white bandage, but his hair still had a pink tinge to it. She jumped when a warm hand clasped weakly around her wrist.
“Stars! Sorry! Sorry, I thought-”
“Stay.” That one word again, but this time she was positive that the quiet voice was his. With the little light in the room and how close she was she realized that his eyes were slightly open and that green gaze was pinned on her. “Sit.” His eyes flicked to the chaise lounge wedged between the cot and one of Robert’s work tables. Taking a half step back, the back of her knees hit the chair and she sat, her eyes not leaving his, wrist still in his warm grip.
After a few minutes of silence Davina was half convinced that he’d fallen back to sleep. “I can go if you want? We can do this later when you’re feeling better,” she whispered. When he still said nothing she stood. His grip tightening ever so slightly made her freeze. “Okayyy then,” she sat back down, waiting.
“Thanks,” came a labored whisper a few still moments later.
“What?” Either her ears were playing tricks on her, or this man just said thanks to her. Maybe he hit his head harder than I thought.
“Bobby told me,” he paused and took a deep breath that looked like it hurt, “what you did. So thanks.”
“Bobby? What are you-” her eyes widened in understanding as he flipped over their joined hands, the continuous white zigzag on his forearm visible.
“It’s good stitch work,” he mused as he stared down at them. With a dark wheezy chuckle he added, “glad I could be your first.”
Davina noticed the pinched expression between his brows and how tired he looked as he let his head fall back onto the pillows. “Seriously, why don’t we have this conversation when you’re feelin’ a bit better?” Not that she wanted the compliments or the conversation to stop, but she didn’t want them to happen at the expense of his recovery.
He shook his head and winced slightly, “nah. Robert’s got me on some decent pain meds, not sure I’m gonna remember this later. Might as well make a fool of myself now.”
Chuckling she joked, “you do a pretty good job of that without pain meds.”
Though his eyes were closed out of exhaustion, a playful smirk spread across his face. “Easy now, I could still take ya.”
“One good flick and you’d crumple like a used napkin,” she quipped. Davina liked this sleepy and drugged Finn, he was easier to talk too, less stern and cold.
After fake laughing at her , he took a breath and the humor left his voice, “seriously though, I owe ya one.”
“For what? It’s not like you could control getting hurt.” As she said it she immediately questioned whether or not he actually could. She had been hurt, albeit minutely, after just one visit to whatever it was he did at night. If he had been hurt in the middle of the night then it was most likely those late night meetings that had hurt him as well.
Just as she was about to ask what is it exactly that you do with those people?, he said “this is my way of sayin’ sorry for being a dick, Lori.” The question immediately died on her lips. It was the first time he had said her name since that first day in the kitchen. She liked hearing him say her name, even if it wasn’t really her name.
“Uh, apology accepted?” she breathed out in one surprised breath. When he let out a yawn she insisted that he get more rest and this time he didn’t fight her. Closing the door behind her, Davina sat with her back against the wall for a few minutes trying to absorb the events of the day. She had sewn skin back together, agreed to become Robert’s apprentice, and possibly mended the rocky relationship with Finn. Things were really starting to look up.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
