#//thank u to marin lou and bex for writing this with me it was so fun ily

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: Current, (the day after this) LOCATION: On the edge of The Pines and Seven Peaks PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake), Inge (@nightmaretist), Otis (@kodiacast), and Cass (@magmahearts) SUMMARY: Inge, through the ether, spots a familiar face out in the cold and seeks out help from Otis. They come across Magma and together try to save Anita from the cold. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Anita could tell, as she floated in and out of consciousness on the forest floor, that she was nearly done shedding her old skin. The arrow wound that had previously penetrated deep into her abdomen was healed and the only evidence of the injury laid in the dark red blood stains of the scales that had been pushed off of her body, coiled up in the molted exoskeleton that was bunched up near the rattle at the end of her tail. Her body had done its job and healed itself from the unexpected attack that had taken place days earlier. But what her body could no longer do was transform back into her human form… or move at all, really. 

It was early morning, the sun not even peeking up over the mountains that surrounded her yet, and the freezing temperatures of the Maine winter had proven to be too much for the mojave lamia to overcome. With every ounce of might she could conjure, Anita tried to get up off her back. She tried to start the journey home, one slither at a time, but all she was able to do was twitch her tail ever so slightly and create a soft shaking rattle. It barely rivaled the winds that were whipping around her, not that she really expected anyone to be nearby to even hear her. “Lo siento,” escaped from her lips as she fought to keep herself awake. Lamia, like any cold blooded reptile, can’t handle extreme temperatures for long periods of time and Anita had been battling the cold for at least two days as she molted. Her quiet apology was to herself, and to her loved ones, for the carelessness that led to the dire circumstances she had found herself in. There was no talking her way out of this mess, though, not this time. She had to hope for a miracle, one she doubted she even deserved. 

_ 

She relished in the astral, her aching earthly body forgotten as she glanced down at Wicked’s Rest. This might as well be how she hiked, how she enjoyed the last hour of night before she was tied to the earthly plane again. Inge intended for it to be a moment of respite. Of course, her intentions never worked out — and as she looked down at the forest and its nightly critters, she halted. Another astral entity balked at her for stopping in her tracks but she didn’t much care. There was a snake on the forest ground, larger than average and with a scale pattern Inge knew. A scale pattern she’d stroked, appreciated, marveled at.

She manifested back onto the earthly plane, crouching at the sight of her. There was blood and scales and an arrow, abandoned but stained with the same blood. “Anita –” She found confirmation that it was indeed her colleague, friend and occasional lover as she crouched there. 

Inge was many things, but she wasn’t equipped to carry a snake that size home nor did she have any warmth to offer it. She too was coldblooded, after all, and her already measly physical strength was limited by her own healing injury. And so she offered a promise of return, dropped a pin on her phone and searched the astral for a helping hand. Requirements of said hand were as follows: not weird about shapeshifters, strong and willing to help. Preferably awake. She scoured her mind, scoured the town and ended up staring down at Otis, slumped on his couch but awake. She appeared in front of his door, banged on it and didn’t wait long to say what she needed when he opened it.

“Otis — hi, I need your help. A person needs your help!” Person, snake – same thing. Inge tugged at his arm. “You have a car? My friend, she’s in the woods, she’s …” She frowned. “Injured. She needs tending to.” A glance. “Discreetly.”

—

The firefighter had only just closed his eyes. The night shift wasn't a particularly hard or grueling slog, but it was long. Lots of little calls. Not a lot of sleep. Better though, he thought, than any big dangers. Fires were far more common this time of year than people realized. And usually electrical, which were so much more dangerous, had a much bigger capacity for lethal spread. 

Luckily, Wicked's Rest had afforded Otis some of its namesake in the sense that the only sights he saw that night were false alarms and easy fixes. A few fallen seniors, a few folks caught out in the cold in need of shelter, a few more mysteriously dizzy and fatigued, always coming out of that strange fancy bar downtown. Dan's Cabra or whatever. Otis didn't really get what goats had to do with alcohol and dizzy patrons without a drop of alcohol in their bloodstream. Always coy about how they got into that state. He didn't pry much either though. Just did his job, until he could go home. 

Home was a run down walkup, third floor apartment. The front door didn't lock, the paint was cracked, peeling, and probably far more lead filled than the landlord would ever admit. It was creaky, leaky, and drafty. But he was allowed to make alterations to one of the rooms enough that he had a good recording studio, and that's all Otis really needed. He was a simple guy. Why would he need fancy things? No one needed those amenities, like a dishwasher, or an actual bed, or a doorbell. People who visited seemed to manage just fine. 

The knock came, the bear groaned. A long low sigh set into the pillow he'd crashed into upon arriving home. It took a considerable effort to peel himself off the couch, to walk the short space between there and the door, and he hesitated before opening it because… there was a shade of fear on the other side. Unease. Worry. Not as potent as proper fear, but still present. Still something that made Otis' tummy twinge at the thought of seeing whoever it belonged to. 

Worse, when he opened the door, it was a familiar face. Inge Endeman. The professor, or something. From the college? That was the second place they met, or was it the first? Either way, Inge was a face he wouldn't soon forget. Not with the way she tracked him down, made him spill his metaphorical bear beans and give up a dire secret he'd promised his mamas he'd never tell another living soul. Otis couldn't say he was happy to see her, but the moment she explained he was already locked into whatever this mission was. Someone was in need. That's all he needed to know. 

“Yeah. Truck. Where we goin’?” 

—

She didn’t sleep much these days. If asked, she’d insist it was because superheroes didn’t sleep much, anyway. Batman wasn’t known for taking naps, after all, and Daredevil probably hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in years. It was a solid excuse. It made sense, it was easy to claim, it could be backed up with hundreds of issues of comic books providing ‘proof.’

But it was still just an excuse.

The truth was something far less fun. The truth was far more tied to the warden’s hand that she still felt gripping her throat months later, to the empty spot beside her where Alex used to sleep, to the crypt where she and her friends had faced down Metzli’s sire and left behind so much dust and ash that sometimes she still felt as though she was choking on it. Superheroes didn’t sleep, but Cass hadn’t felt like a superhero in months now, and she was awake, anyway. She didn’t want to think about what that probably meant.

Walking helped, sometimes. Feeling the Earth beneath her bare feet, pretending she could still help people if she tried hard enough. She was out in the woods tonight, close to the road but not too close. The odds of running into someone in need of a hero were low, but she had her glamour down, anyway, like she was still Magma, still useful. She heard the occasional car on the roadside, people going home from work or the bar or wherever people went at this hour, but nothing of note.

At least, not until one of those cars stopped. 

She was curious; she usually was. She moved towards the sound carefully, prepared to peer out from a well-hidden spot where she wouldn’t be seen until she spotted —

“Otis?” Superheroes and firefighters had a ‘working relationship,’ and Cass had run into Otis more than once. But there was no firetruck nearby, and the only thing resembling flames that she could feel was her own magma. “What are you doing here? What’s —” The passenger door opened, and Cass blinked at the unfortunately familiar woman who stepped out. “Oh. Um, if you guys are going to… do something weird in the woods, can you wait until I leave?”

—

She was glad for many things. Glad that Otis wasn’t like her, ready to question everything she said, pressing to find out the truth. Glad that he didn’t ask how she’d gotten there, why she’d known he was awake, why she was asking him. Inge wasn’t often overrun with appreciation for the naive and kindhearted but today she was. “The woods.” 

She got in the driver’s seat, glad that he had a truck and she didn’t have to sink down far to get into it. She looked for somewhere to put her phone, but soon realized the truck was from the year pre-smartphone and gave up. “Just straight ahead,” she said, turning on navigation on her phone and instructing Otis to their point of destination. Of course they couldn’t drive the car all the way to where she’d found Anita (though Inge wouldn’t be opposed to it — trees regrew). So they parked, a small walk away from where her serpentine friend was. She gave Otis a small rundown, omitted some details because she figured it’d be easier if he just asked whatever questions popped in his head. She wasn’t sure how far she could trust him, after all. Desperate times, though.

Upon exiting the car, Inge was ready to start a brisk walk that would have her regret it later, when the pain settled deeper in her muscles. For now, though, she was focused. Hopeful, almost, but mostly dealing with that powerless fury that came after the damage done by hunters. If her back and gut didn’t hurt still, she’d almost consider revenge.

But before she could even start, there was another figure joining the scene. Her eyes fell on the girl who’d poured lava into her bag and narrowed. “Scram,” she told her, voice tight. “Leave now. That way.” She pointed in the opposite direction. “Bye. We have weird things to do. No time to be robbed.” Inge looked at Otis and nudged her head in the direction her phone was pointing them. “Come on.”

—

Very few people accused Otis of having the grit to rub together two thoughts to make an idea, but this was something he had studied for. Something he knew quite a bit about. “Hypothermia.” He stood firm between the strange woman and the stranger superhero. He didn't know how Magma did her special effects, or if it was just another trick of his overactive imagination, but the girl did put off a magnitude of heat that would be down right useful at a time like this. 

“You said it was hypothermia, Miss Inge, we could use all the help we kin get.” The bear nodded towards the hero, a little star struck as he'd always been every time she was on the scene. The firefighters had a sort of… section for the weird shit in town. Otis, unknowingly, had been sorted right in. He didn't notice that his company had a knack for hitting emergencies all over town rather than just in one small neighborhood. He didn't notice that the others on shift with him also had a strangeness about them. Better suited to work in teams against the oddness the town had to offer. There was a reason Otis and his company kept running into Magma, a reason they'd given the hero the number that went straight to their station. Otis didn't know, but he was happy to see the vigilante every time. Made him feel special. Like the background character in a comic book that got featured for a page. Even got a line here and there. 

“Magma, we do need your help. Please.” 

—

It wasn’t as if she was surprised that sketchbook lady remembered her. Cass was pretty memorable. She left a lasting impression, she turned heads! Still, she’d hoped that the woman might be the ‘forgive and forget’ type. No such luck, apparently. Rolling her eyes, Cass prepared herself to walk away, but something in Otis’s voice stopped her.

Hypothermia? 

“Who has hypothermia?” Cass glanced between the two, but neither of them seemed quite ‘cold’ enough to set off any alarm bells there. “That’s definitely something I can help with. Tell me what you need?” 

And so, Otis did. He explained why ‘Miss Inge’ (no way was Cass giving sketchbook lady that level of respect!) found him the way she had, that there was someone who needed help in the woods. Was there ever any question about whether or not Cass was going to lend a helping hand? She might not have been a very good superhero, especially not anymore, but she was still a superhero. She wanted to be better, to do better. She really did.

When Otis was done, she glanced to Inge. “Look,” she said, “I don’t care if you like me or not.” Her stomach churned with the lie. “I want to help. And you’d be stupid not to let me help, by the way, since heat is kind of my whole thing! So lead the way, and I’ll save the day. Deal?”

—

The wispy auburn hair and doe eyes felt like a vision to the lamia as she fought to keep hold of her own consciousness. But everything inside of Anita was running slowly and running out of time, including all inklings of rational thought. The woman she was looking up at was devastatingly beautiful and for a brief moment Anita wondered if this was the face of death coming to collect her. But the eyes were too familiar, just like the voice that spoke her name, and just as she was able to place that familiarity it was gone with the slow blink of her eyes. The interaction seemed so quick that it hadn’t even felt real. Why would Inge have been out here in the woods? If she had been here, why would she have left just as quickly as she appeared? 

No, Anita convinced herself, it was a hallucination. Her mind was crying out for help and so it manifested a glimmer of hope for itself. The choice for that hope was curious. She had time to think about all of the people she would want to see before the end as she laid there over the past forty eight hours trying to heal herself and, admittedly, Inge hadn’t quite made the list. Her mind had gone straight to family, to Metzli. And as the cold had continue to set in, Anita thought about her blood -  those she left behind in Mexico. 

Seeing Inge, even for that fleeting moment, made Anita realize just how closed off she was to this town. Isolating herself had always felt like a defense mechanism but now she was surrounded by the manifestation of that isolation and it was painful. It hadn’t protected her at all but instead made her vulnerable. Her eyes had shut again and she didn’t quite have a sense of how much time had passed when they managed to slowly flutter open again. Something had stirred her some noise off in the distance. 

With exceptional difficulty as her body felt like it was freezing solid, the lamia managed to shift her head up towards whatever she had heard. It was just enough for Anita to see some heat signatures off in the distance. One was just faintly warmer than the freezing temperatures surrounding them, one seemed rather normal, and one burned a heat she had only seen a few times before. Was her mind imagining this, too? “Cass…?,” she whispered faintly, undoubtedly too quietly to be heard from such a distance.

_ 

Otis called the little lava-flowing thief Magma and Inge would have laughed if it wasn’t for the situation. She was no good at this — she wasn’t like the other two people standing on this forest floor. There was no heroic bone in her body, but she’d be damned if she let Anita lay on that forest floor looking as she did. And though she wasn’t sure what happened, she assumed a hunter had loosened that arrow. She was done with losing things at the hands of hunters. Dignity. Lovers. A feeling of safety.

She glared between them. She wasn’t sure what ‘Magma’ was, but there was something about her that was hot, that she knew. Otis seemed to think she could help and she seemed overly eager (she tried not to be annoyed by this) and Inge was pragmatic enough to not opt for an argument in a situation like this. “My friend. Fine. You can help.”

With that, she started walking, attempting to walk as straight as possible, to not show the limp she’d gained since the factory. Her eyes were focused on her phone and Inge wished it was dark so she could travel through another plane of existence instead of figuring out the way over small forest paths that didn’t agree with her slippery shoes. She looked at ‘Magma’, wondered how far she could trust her. Probably farther than she could throw her, but she didn’t want to spare itt o her. “What is it you can do? Is it magic? Doesn’t matter. She’s cold, my friend. She’s … Lamia.” She’d figure it out when they came across her anyway. “I don’t know what happened. But she’s hypothermic, like Otis said.” 

As they neared the red pin on her phone’s map, Inge pushed through her pain and upped her pace, leaves sticking to her heels as she stepped off the path and into the thick of it. She didn’t care much about the branches that got stuck in her hair, just kept her eyes sharp for the familiar shape of Anita. When she reached her, she crouched down, face pulled in an expression she blamed on the sear of pain in her abdomen. “I brought reinforcements. Okay? Gonna get you out of here.”

—-

Admittedly, when Inge came to Otis, banging on his door, a fresh new flavor of fear flowing off her in droves, the bear didn't expect a snake to be the victim (or snictim, he supposed) in need of rescuing. A big snake, but a snake all the same. Enough people were scared of the slinky noodlers that Otis probably could have made several meals just being a wildlife photographer, though, he weren't terribly sure how well that'd work or what the rules to his special dietary restrictions were. 

Didn't matter that much though, this… very very large snake clearly meant a lot to Inge, so who was Otis to judge, really? He'd already resisted the urge to ‘woah’ upon seeing her. Best just to keep up the polite play and help a critter out. The firefighter had brought a trauma blanket, as well as a small kit (that was much more suited to a human, but the basics would likely work the same.) He was far too focused on the job at hand to figure out what the other two were jawing about. Magic? Well, no the superhero might've looked magical, but it had to be some fancy science, right? Something else Otis wouldn't really understand much of. But magic didn't exist. 

“Right miss… snake. I'm gonna pick you up now, just gonna ask real nice of you not to bite me, kay?” Otis got to work, gathering the majority of the snake up into his arms before turning towards the other two. “This… changes up the tactic a little. Gonna need somewhere we can warm her up slowly and consistently. Not too much all at once.” 

—-

Cass listened as Inge provided more details. Her friend was a lamia — something Cass only knew about thanks to Anita, and Metzli’s cohabitation with her. She thought about the woman now, about whether or not she should call her for advice on this whole thing, but that would totally ruin her reputation. Besides, it seemed simple enough — Inge’s friend was cold, and Cass was hot. The math was pretty easy to do, even for someone who’d never seen the inside of a classroom.

She trailed along behind Inge and Otis as they made their way through the woods, wondering just how Inge’s friend had been hurt to begin with. Had it been an accident? Or was there something more sinister at play? Cass’s mind went, the way it so often did, to that hand around her throat. Her hand came up the gently touch her neck as if she could still feel it there, and she walked with a bit more determination. Closer and closer to where Inge was leading them, until - 

“Anita?” She recognized the form on the ground instantly. From the cave when Luci was fixing the goo situation, from the crypt with Metzli’s sire. She’d always thought Anita’s snake form was beautiful, but right now, with it so still and so quiet, Cass felt an overwhelming amount of panic. She rushed over to the snake’s side, only to falter when Otis got there first. He was speaking, and he seemed to know what he was talking about, so Cass listened. She nodded, eyes never leaving Anita. “Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it. Just — She can’t die. Okay? She can’t.” 

—

Anita could feel the stiffness of her body growing more intense and it made everything, including and especially staying awake feel all the more impossible. Even in her weakened state her hearing hadn’t failed her and it didn’t take long until she began to hear the soft crunch of footsteps making their way towards her. The sounds, those gentle vibrations that ran through the forest floor, felt more real than anything her eyes had seen in the past several hours. So when she saw Inge crouched beside her again Anita decided to believe what she was seeing, too. 

There was a stranger present as well. A man she didn’t recognize by sight, smell, or sound. He had a soothing tone to the way he spoke, though. If Anita were more present in her own body she would have really enjoyed being called Miss. Snake. There was no power left in her to tell him she wouldn’t bit him… let alone enough energy to actually bite anything. And then she saw Cass and it all started to feel like the scene at the end of the Wizard of Oz - and you were there, and you were there… 

The guy who was lifting her up seemed to have a plan that involved getting Anita warm and there was a soft sense of relief that rushed over her. That mixed with the looks of such genuine concern that were evident on both Inge and Cass’ faces began to feel overwhelming. Her eyes drifted from Inge, to the man carrying her, then over to Cass and she was almost glad that she was in such a catatonic state at the moment so she did not have to actually grapple with the reality of the emotions that were brewing inside of her. 

Too tired to speak, Anita let out a soft and slow “Hsssssss,” something she hoped would translate into her appreciation. She wasn’t out of the cold yet, literally, but she no longer felt she was destined to rot away out here in the Pines. 

_

So ‘Magma’ knew who Anita was. Inge figured that to be a good thing considering that seemed to mean she cared about the other. Otis, though he seemed quite out of his depth, also shot into action at the sight of the snake. Maybe she should have told him about the other woman being a shapeshifter, but she had just assumed he’d know about these things the same way she knew about plenty of things. Again, this wasn’t her forte. But she seemed to have delegated quite well.

She kept her eyes glued to Anita, taking a small step back to let the others take charge. Her eyes flicked between the two other party members, landed on ‘Magma’. “She won’t.” Her answer was resolute, because that’s how Inge felt. She thought of reptiles lying on warm stones, under warm lights or even the sun. “You – what you did, the other night. You can make yourself warm. Do that. Not as hot as then, but warm. Can you do that?”

She moved to stand next to Otis and Anita, leaving plenty of room for ‘Magma’ to warm the lamia’s body. She remembered the touch of Dīs when she’d been found, how welcome it had been after that stretch of unending pain. Her fingers reached for Anita’s, weaving with hers and giving a small squeeze. “Give a squeeze if it’s too hot?” She looked at lava girl, wished her eyes still glowed their demanding red but the forest was no longer as dark as it had been. “Can you walk with her to the car, Otis, as —” She refused to call her Magma, so just looked at her, “— you try and give her some gradual warmth?”

—

Otis nodded. His part was easy, for what it was worth. The massive snake coiled in his arms, reminding him of the time his moms had brought him to an animal education center. They were there picking up some supplies, but the lady that was running it allowed the young bear to hold an anaconda. The scales felt different, the whole snake felt different, but maybe that's just cause this had to be a northern snake. Things got bigger in the cold, right? Something about having to preserve energy cause it got way too chilly up here. Sounded right enough. Otis didn't really know much about biology, much less about things that didn't live on the ranch. 

His mama used to say that Otis’ bear must have been built for the north. Maybe that's why he picked this place out of anywhere to settle and get research done. All the frozen weather had made him was sleepy, though. And thankful for the cluster of days he always had off. 

The trip back to the truck was a little harder than the trek in. The trauma blanket looked like a foil tarp over the world's largest lumpy burrito. Probably clocking in at almost half a ton, but it was rude to ask a lady her weight, and it wasn't like the snake was going to answer. No, Otis just had to guesstimate by the ache in his shoulders by the time they'd hiked back a mile to the road. He was strong, but not necessarily built for endurance. The sight of the little blue pickup was a welcome one, that's for sure. 

“Ain't enough room in the cab, but if you can do yer… hero stuff in the bed, I can start drivin’ us somewhere safer. Miss Inge, where are we headin’?” 

—

Inge considered the question. Did she care more about letting a known thief into her house and risking getting her shit stolen or did she care more about helping Anita? The latter it was, an easy decision in the end. “My house. I’ll give directions.” Considering he didn’t have a navigation system. And she was the boomer. “It’s in Deersprings, so not too far.”

—

Anita hissed, and Cass wasn’t sure if it was a bad thing or a good one that she sounded more snake than human right now. (Probably bad, right? Everything seemed bad when she was like this, everything.) Cass found herself distracted as she stared at Anita’s scales, almost missing Inge’s words. Luckily, she snapped back to herself pretty quickly, nodding her head. “I can get warm,” she confirmed. Focusing on her hand, she pulled some of the magma away from the limb so that it was warm instead of hot and rested it in the center of Anita’s scaly chest.

It was a little hard, walking with Otis with her hand in place while also concentrating on keeping it the right temperature. It was a little bit like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time; signals got a little crossed and, if you weren’t careful, you’d get the two mixed up. Cass was careful, though. She wasn’t going to mess this up, wasn’t going to risk making things worse for Anita. Still, it was a relief when they got back to the truck. Cass had never been so happy to see a vehicle in her life. 

“I can sit in the back,” she agreed with an eager nod. “I’ll warm her up. You just focus on getting us somewhere safe, okay?”

—

The first rush of warmth that extended out from Cass’ hands felt like a shock to Anita’s system. It wasn’t that the temperature was too hot necessarily, but it was just such a contrast to how deeply chilled her body had gotten. Then she felt the cool grasp of a hand in her own, which provided a similar comfort to the heat radiating around her now. The relief was not instantaneous but gradual, wavering slightly as the unlikely group trekked out of the woods and towards a questionable looking pick-up truck. It was apparent that she was beginning to feel at least slightly more okay given that the first thought that crossed her mind was whether or not that was the only means of transportation available to them. Evidently, as she got gently loaded into the bed of the truck, it was. 

Even though she had never gotten this cold before there was some instinctual part of Anita that knew a few minutes of heat was not going to be enough to really shake her out of this state that she was in. If it had been, she would have told everyone that her house was undoubtedly closer than Inge’s and equipped with a room full of heat lamps. Cass was generating more heat than her lamps could really even dream of, though, and Anita didn’t hate the idea of going somewhere where she wouldn’t be alone. 

As the truck drove along the back roads of Wicked’s Rest, undoubtedly a startling sight for anyone who may have been awake and spotted her in the back, Anita started to feel like she could move herself ever so slightly.  “Thank you,” she said softly to Cass, feeling a mix of gratefulness and embarrassment at the circumstances. It wouldn’t be long until they were at Inge’s place and truly out from the cold. 

_ 

She got back into the driver’s seat, stuffing her phone in her coat pocket as she got ready to give Otis directions when needed. She flipped down the sun visor and glanced at Anita and ‘Magma’ in the van’s bed. Her legs spread as far as they could, her body protesting against the walking she’d done but something in Inge feeling relieved all the same. In her mind’s eye she saw Sanne’s neck and the axe that undone her head from there, thought of other undead she’d lost over the years. 

Anita would be alright and that was enough for now. No room for the rage, the fear, the concern. Just the process of getting her to her house. She took her eyes off the thief and her friend, glanced at Otis. “You’re going to have to turn right up ahead, and then a left immediately.” 

Her eyes switched from Otis to the view at the back of the car to the road and eventually she said, “Thanks. For coming without question. For — carrying her.” He could have thrown the door in her face, considering the sleuthing she’d done, the intrusive way she’d dug into his life and dangled his hidden truth into his face. It said something in favor of his character, something she’d usually think of as below her. How could she do that now, though? When both the bugbear and the lava girl had jumped at the chance to help, despite her own conflicts with them? Inge wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

But this too paled in comparison with the mission still at hand. So she kept pointing Otis into the direction of her house until they’d reached it, rushing out the car to check in on ‘Magma’ and Anita. “I’ll open the door. It’s just up there, third floor, there’s an elevator.”

—

Otis followed directions well. Part of being a firefighter. You had someone behind the wheel, and someone navigating the fastest way to wherever you needed to be. Whenever you needed to be there. That’s just what this was, wasn’t it? Inge had turned to him, thanked him like there ever was a question. He just nodded. Words escaping him now that he was on a mission. Still on a mission. Before was… direction. He had to speak because he had to take charge. He wasn’t a man of many words, at least not in person. Wasn’t as easy to get tongue tied behind the mic. But here? In the cab of his car with a creature in need in the back it didn’t matter that she wasn’t human, Otis thought, only that she had so many people who cared so deeply for her. 

Once again, the snake was in the bear’s arms. Coiled up and under a blanket, but he could tell she felt warmer. Good. Whatever Magma had in that fancy suit was powerful. Did a damn good job. Made Otis wish they had those down at the station. Maybe he’d ask her about it later. Ah, but, he had said he’d only use the number for emergencies. Right? He wasn’t too sure where the line fell. 

He followed directions again, this time leading the small group into the home that was also pretty damn cold. Otis settled the large snake where told, and stood rather awkwardly after. This was the part that the EMTs usually left. The part where he usually left. Was he supposed to leave now? His job was done. 

“Right. So.” His eyes flicked between the three ladies of the house and– was that an arm? Nah, just another trick of his imagination, right? Otis nodded again. “Call me if you need anythin’ yeah?” And with that, he turned. 

— 

Anita spoke, and it was the best thing Cass had ever said. The thanks washed over her and, for once, there was no hesitation in the way she released it. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said quietly, stroking Anita’s head absently. “Just be okay. I just need you to be okay.” With everything that had been going on lately, she didn’t think she could have handled losing Anita, too, even if they didn’t know one another as well as Cass might have liked. She wouldn’t want that for Metzli, or for Anita, either. Anita was always willing to help where Metzli was concerned; Cass liked to think the lamia would do the same for her, too. 

Eventually, they arrived at what must have been Inge’s house. Cass wondered if she should have told Otis to take them to Anita’s house instead, but… maybe this was better. She could text Metzli, let them know what was going on, and Anita could choose how much to share with them after the fact. After the way the night had gone, Cass thought that Anita deserved some choice in the matter of how it concluded.

Cass hovered as Otis lifted Anita from the truck, keeping a hand on her at all times to continue the warming process. She followed, worry practically pouring from her as they took Anita to rest her where Inge had indicated. Cass plopped down close to the lamia, wrapping a warmed arm around her.

Turning to Otis, she offered him a smile. “It was really good of you to help,” she said. Hesitantly, she added, “Thank you.” She could owe Otis a favor; there were far worse people to be indebted to. Glancing to Inge, she chewed her lip carefully. “I want to stay to help her warm up more. If that’s okay? I want to make sure she’s all right. I’m friends with her roommate — they’re probably really worried.”

—

There was such a subtle intimacy in the way Cass spoke and warmed up the lamia. Anita had developed a great fondness for her but would have never thought that the sentiment was mutual, or would result in such compassion and care. She understood why Metzli seemed to consider her to be family. She understood why having someone to care for you felt so good. 

The truck pulled into the driveway that Anita had driven into more than a few times herself, and even though everything still ached, there was an undoubtable relief that fell over her. She was warming, slowly, but enough that the dread of death had begun to fade and was steadily being replaced by the dread of embarrassment. Embarrassed that she had gotten herself in this predicament to begin with, embarrassed she needed to be rescued, and dreading the conversations she expected to need to have once she was back to being herself again. 

Once again she found herself being transported by the tall, strong stranger up into the house. Nearly as soon as he placed her down, he was turning to leave before Anita could even express any gratitude. For now, all she had left to do was get her strength back. All she had to do was let these two people who had grown to be important parts of her life help her. It was an uneasy feeling but it was far better than the alternative - a circumstance she never wanted to find herself in again.