#Abel said “fine I’ll rest NOW CAN WE GET BACK TO THE PLOT PLEASE”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 16 (Link’s Parents Play BotW)

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

(AO3 link)

Previous // Next

Tilieth listened to the wind chimes in the distance as she washed Link’s hair. The world around her was warm and bright, and her pack was full of freshly harvested mushrooms and herbs. The bathing area for the Sheikah was a pond just up the hill from the village. There were two ponds, actually, though one had a strange massive flower bud that glowed, and the area was considered sacred. Tilieth didn’t want to upset anyone, though she did bottle some of the water, so she took Link to the watering hole everyone else used. It granted a beautiful view of the village, and it gave her some peace.

After Tilieth and Impa had chased Abel, and their subsequent return to the village, Tilieth had called for help, and Kollin had arrived quickly. Abel was given a potion to alleviate the alarmingly fast rate he was bleeding through his shoulder injury, and while the wound was now gone, her husband was utterly spent from blood loss, stress, and a lack of sleep. She’d stayed by his side until he’d passed out, and then she’d resolved to take care of Link before returning to her vigil. She’d needed to clear her mind.

Where should she even start? She was still reeling, heart having only just slowed down as she’d watched Abel steadily fall asleep, his hand clutched desperately in hers. The moment of clarity she’d had as they’d teleported to the village allowed her to stay calm for her poor husband, but now she was alone with Link, and her head wouldn’t stay quiet.

Abel had hurt her? He had gotten so desperately out of control that he’d hurt her? It was clearly a complete accident, one he regretted so much he was terrified to even get near her, but it was frightening in itself.

How far gone was her husband, that he could lose such control of his mind? Had he always been this bad and she’d simply failed to notice? Tilieth tried to think of other instances where perhaps Abel simply wasn’t acting right, but aside from his short temper or paranoia…

Perhaps that was it, then. It wasn’t that he’d always been this way, it was just the logical conclusion to worsening of his already bad habits.

But how could she possibly help him with this? What had tipped him over the edge? Was it the lack of sleep? She knew he hadn’t slept at least one night. She had to be more on top of it – her husband had always been the strong one, but it was clear now that in some ways the poor man was downright brittle.

And that was frightening too. Because Abel had always been her steady rock, and now he was crumbling.

This wasn’t the first time the man had faltered, of course. He’d snapped at her before, he’d shown signs of being worn down. But this was… far more extreme than she imagined him capable of.

Sleep, she resolved to herself. He needs to sleep well. I have to make sure he sleeps well.

Sighing, Tilieth glanced down at her son, who was boneless under her care. The past day or two he’d wake up easily to stimulation, and the cool water had startled his eyes open, but the gentle touch of his mother had soothed him back to sleep. She didn’t mind. He’d already eaten. He could rest. Hylia knew he needed it.

Carefully, Tilieth pulled Link out of the shallow edge of the pond, laying him on a blanket she’d brought and wrapping him in it. Link shivered, brow furrowing in discomfort, and she kissed his forehead.

I can be the strong one for a little while, she surmised, smiling down at her baby boy. They were just going to stay in Kakariko. She could run a calm, domestic scene just fine. She wasn’t alone here. She had plenty of ideas already for what she could do while her boys slept.

“Tilieth?”

She jumped, startled, but the voice was familiar. Glancing down the hill a little bit, she caught sight of the Sheikah chief, Impa. “Oh! You made it back safely! I was worried.”

Lady Impa smiled. “I was worried too. I checked in with Kollin – it seems Sir Abel is resting now?”

Tilieth nodded. “He…”

She didn’t know what to say, honestly, so she just gave a weak shrug with a small smile.

“He loves you,” Lady Impa said, reading her body language. Her words were spoken with sincerity and conviction. “He loves both of you so much. And he’s strong. He’ll be okay. He just… I’ve seen it. With others. The Calamity left scars on us all. I’m just… afraid that perhaps his wounds have not had the chance to heal to that point.”

No. They truly haven’t. “I hope you don’t mind us staying in Kakariko for a little longer. I appreciate your hospitality. You’ve been so kind to us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” the Sheikah chief replied warmly. “I’m going to return to the village, but I wanted to find you to make sure you were alright. Your husband’s horse is in the stable with Epona.”

“Thank you,” Tilieth gratefully said. “Truly. For everything.”

Lady Impa was too humble to acknowledge the gratitude once again, so she bowed her head and departed. Tilieth looked down at her son, drying him off a little and dressing him in the tunic she’d made for him, as well as a fresh set of trousers she’d been gifted by one of the Sheikah. Then she braced herself and clipped the harness to her back, slowly carrying the boy back into the village.

Liyah, the innkeeper, was waiting for her return, and she smiled warmly. “Welcome back, dear. Your husband’s been sleeping quite peacefully. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Tilieth acknowledged as she grunted, contradicting her words. Golden Three, why did her baby have to be so heavy? She couldn’t imagine hauling him around at his healthy weight – he was far skinnier now than he should be.

“He looks much more comfortable,” Liyah noted cheerily, leaning over Link as Tilieth tucked him back into the bed. “A good bath will do that. Perhaps you can help your husband clean up when he’s awake.”

Tilieth hummed, brushing hair out of Link’s face before glancing at her husband in the bed beside them. Abel’s face was worn and pale, but at least he looked at peace. He still had dried blood caked on his neck, though – his doublet had been removed to examine the wound, and the dirt, grime, and clots from the last day or so were evident where the clean bandages didn’t cover. A bath was a good idea. She was a little worried to take Abel any distance from the village, though.

“Oh, I remember long ago, before the Calamity, how there used to be this wonderful bath house,” Liyah continued, eyes lost to the past as her voice became dreamy. “My husband used to be a royal scientist, you know, and we’d travel often. Well, he would. I tried to go with him as much as I could. But ah, Tilieth, the bath house that my people built near Akkala! There were so many Sheikah spread across central locations of Hyrule, you see, so we made little settlements sometimes. Everyone loved that place – it became a vacationing spot, even! Utilizing the hot springs from the Goron lands was a genius idea.”

“It sounds nice,” Tilieth commented, imagining how wonderful a warm bath sounded. And to achieve one with no extra effort in making a fire to heat the water! She wondered if her family would have a chance to see Death Mountain at all on this journey.

The thought of it was certainly exciting, but also a little daunting. But now wasn’t the time to spiral over that. Tilieth knew that what everyone needed right now was rest, so she tried to only focus on the moment.

“Perhaps you should get some sleep too, my dear,” the innkeeper suggested.

Tilieth considered it, but to be honest, she was far too wired. If she laid down, she would only worry, not sleep, so she shook her head. “I don’t think sleep is attainable for me at the moment.”

“Well, then get yourself some fresh air,” Liyah insisted. “I can watch these two. If they awaken, I will retrieve you.”

Leave both of them? Tilieth watched the elderly innkeeper uncertainly. But, the more she pondered it, the better the idea sounded. Abel’s clothes were threadbare at best, worn thin from years of use with little to no repair. She had an opportunity to make something for him just as she had for Link. Perhaps she could even make something for herself instead of using an old repurposed dress as a tunic.

Yes… she supposed stepping out would be good. In fact, she was maybe even a little excited about it. Her heart still sped with anxiety as she looked at her husband, though.

“He’s resting,” Liyah said gently, following her gaze. “It will do neither of you any good to hover over him for now. Take care of yourself so that you can look after him, my dear. Now is the best time to do so.”

Tilieth sighed a little, feeling weight lifted from her shoulders as she smiled softly at the innkeeper. “Thank you. I… I needed to hear that.”

With a caring smile mirrored back at her, Tilieth happily went outdoors, feeling freer than she had in a while, ready to explore the village and set to work helping her boys. She could talk to Hakeez, the woman attempting to rebuild her clothing shop, in order to get materials; she’d helped Tilieth make Link’s tunic, after all. There had to be something Tilieth could offer in return. Perhaps she could make some garments for Hakeez as well?

She found the older Sheikah woman with the young mother who had just given birth recently. The new mother looked exhausted, nearly in tears as Hakeez tried to assure her with an offered baby blanket she clearly had made for her.

“Come on now, Pala, it’ll get better,” Hakeez tried to assure the young woman.

“Mellie just won’t stop crying,” the mother, Pala, lamented.

Tilieth recognized the desperation born from exhaustion, and she quickly stepped up. “Let me help. I can look after Mellie alongside Hakeez so you can get some sleep.”

Pala glanced at her, vaguely recognizing Tilieth from the celebrations the village had held for Mellie’s birth the other day. Hakeez quickly nodded, latching on to the idea. “Yes, we can help! Get some rest, dear, you need it.”

The tired mother didn’t put up much of a fight when a more familiar face made the argument, and Mellie was in Tilieth’s arms in no time, wrapped in the blanket Hakeez had made for her.

“Poor dear,” Hakeez lamented as the two exited the home, Mellie gazing up at Tilieth curiously. Tilieth smiled back at the newborn, admiring her beautiful red eyes, large and innocent as they were, light skin unblemished by the sun and not carrying a care in the world.

It was amazing, really, looking at such new life in such a broken world. In the chaos of Tilieth’s life, just holding the baby and standing there, rocking gently, gazing down at her, brought the tired woman some peace of her own.

Memories of her own children flooded her mind and heart, when she’d held Link for the first time, when her first few months with him were harrowing and exhausting, when Lyra made even more of a fuss than her brother at the same age.

She remembered Abel being there to help, having requested time home from the military, supporting her every step of the way.

Tilieth bit her lip, holding the baby close, closing her eyes and just soaking up the moment, remembering the love she had for her family and how much they loved her in return.

“Are you alright?” Hakeez asked quietly.

Tilieth exhaled slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat and smiling a little and nodding. The craftswoman continued to talk, then, being rather chatty and not wishing to stand in silence for so long. She cooed at the little newborn in Tilieth’s arms a moment before telling her about how she had made more clothes for the village. She did lament, though, that it was difficult trying to reestablish bartering and trade; money was rather meaningless within the village, and sometimes people’s offers of trade for her clothes were not what she’d hope for.

“What exactly do you need?” Tilieth asked, latching on to the topic as Mellie slept in her arms.

“Honestly, what I need is some of that stamina elixir that Kollin seems to know how to make,” Hakeez snorted. “I swear he hoards it for himself and his fiancée.”

Tilieth glanced at the seamstress, gleaning who it could be, confirming, “Lady Impa is engaged to Kollin?”

Hakeez nodded dismissively, sighing. “The point is that I’m always worn out and could use some of that stamina elixir.”

Well, if Tilieth wanted Hakeez’s help with supplies to make new clothes for Abel, she supposed she’d start there. Glancing down at Mellie to confirm she was still asleep, Tilieth headed towards Lady Impa’s abode, though she opted to stop by the inn first to check on her family once more.

The innkeeper, Liyah, looked a little surprised at the bundle in Tilieth’s arms, and then she chuckled. “Did poor Pala need a break?”

Tilieth smiled and nodded. “I didn’t mind. She looked pretty haggard.”

“The first one is always the hardest,” Liyah commented.

Tilieth bit her lip, thinking of her two children, and she looked at Link. Yes, it was certainly an adjustment when he’d been a baby, though Lyra had certainly been fussier.

Goddess, she missed those days.

Link was sleeping peacefully as usual, and, for once, Abel was still managing to rest as well. Mellie stirred, grunting a little, and Tilieth made a hasty retreat before the newborn could wake either of them. The little one’s wails caught the attention of one of the guards stationed in front of Lady Impa’s estate, and Tilieth recognized him as the child’s father. After quickly reassuring the worried man, Tilieth suggested that the little one probably needed a diaper change.

The guard blinked, looking anxious. Tilieth had to laugh at him, wondering if he’d even cleaned the baby up yet or if it had all been Pala. It was no wonder the poor woman was overwhelmed; at least Abel had helped. Though Tilieth supposed Abel had been staying home full time while this man was still working, but…

“Why don’t I show you how to do it?” She offered, tilting her head to the side.

“I—well, I don’t know, Pala—”

“Is exhausted,” Tilieth cut in. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to help her sometimes, you know. Mellie needs both her parents’ love and care.”

The guard deflated, relenting. Tilieth forgot all her worries as she spent the next ten minutes trying not to laugh at the man dry heaving while cleaning his little girl’s mess.

Men were so silly sometimes. They could handle blood and gore of the battlefield, but a soiled diaper was too much for some of them. Abel had muscled his way through it with Link, but Tilieth could tell the first few times he’d been similarly uneasy.

Mellie seemed much happier in her father’s arms afterward, and his partner at their post said he would watch for a while so the man could be with his baby girl. Tilieth took the opportunity to head inside the chief’s estate, feeling a little satisfied that she’d helped the guard and his wife.

She hadn’t expected to see Sheik inside.

“—should tell them already, this is—”

“What difference does it make?” Sheik hissed, body language tight and defensive as she crossed her arms so tightly she might as well have been hugging herself. “I have my path and he—”

Sheik cut herself off as she caught sight of Tilieth. Her face was still hidden, but Tilieth could imagine her cheeks were flushed with how worked up she seemed to be.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Tilieth said carefully, feeling guilty. She’d gotten so used to just wandering the village, she really should have knocked.

“Yet you did,” Sheik snapped, eyes narrowing.

“That’s enough,” Lady Impa said sharply. “We’ll continue this discussion later.”

The Sheikah warrior sighed, the fight draining out of here, and she walked by Tilieth without another word, exiting the building.

“Is everything all right?” Tilieth asked quietly. She supposed it really wasn’t her business, but if she could help at all, she wanted to offer. Lady Impa had done so much for her and her family, after all.

The chief seemed to debate something, watching Tilieth for a long moment, before she looked away. “Some matters simply must resolve themselves. How can I help you, Tilieth? Is Sir Abel alright?”

“Yes, he’s fine right now,” Tilieth hastily answered, embarrassed she’d seemingly pushed herself into Sheikah affairs. “I just… I was looking for Kollin. Not—not for Link or Abel, but I wanted to see if I could get a stamina elixir for Hakeez.”

Lady Impa raised an eyebrow. “What does Hakeez want with a stamina elixir?”

“I’m assuming she wants to not be tired,” Tilieth chuckled a little, lightening up. “I just want to make a tunic for Abel, but I need something to trade to get materials.”

Before she could stop herself, she added, “Speaking of Kollin, though, I didn’t realize you two were engaged! You two seem like you have a good chemistry with each other. When are you getting married?”

Lady Impa blinked a moment, eyebrows rising, before she giggled, growing somewhat bashful. “Oh. Well, thank you. I… we haven’t decided yet. We only got engaged pretty recently.”

Tilieth wished she could be there for it, but she knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Instead, she said, “Well, I wish you two all the best and happiness in the world. You deserve it.”

“You’re too kind,” Lady Impa quickly dismissed politely. “But if you’re searching for Kollin, he’s likely up by the fairy spring. It’s just beyond the shrine.”

Ah, yes, the spring that the villagers kept talking about. Perhaps the water did indeed having healing properties. She hadn’t given any to Link yet, so she hadn’t been sure.

Wait… fairy spring?

“He might be trying to talk to… well… a Great Fairy lives there,” Lady Impa explained. “But her power is dependent on rupees, and we hardly have any. She can still sometimes emerge, and Kollin tries to pay his respects.”

“Can she heal Link?” Tilieth immediately asked. “I’ll give her all the rupees we’ve found!”

Lady Impa watched her sadly. “I don’t think so. She can summon fairies, but I don’t think Cotera can actually heal anyone. But I suppose it’s worth asking, now that his wounds are not as dire as they used to be.”

Tilieth hastened outside, not waiting a moment longer for explanation, though she at least threw a hasty thanks over her shoulder.

It didn’t take long to reach the spring she’d passed a couple times by now, and she wondered why she hadn’t been told of this sooner. All the Sheikah seemed a little cagey on the matter, as if they wanted to protect Cotera, but it wasn’t as if Tilieth could possibly hurt a Great Fairy.

She supposed perhaps they worried Abel might try, to help Link. Honestly, at this rate, she wouldn’t put it passed him.

But there shouldn’t be a need for such force or concern! Great Fairies were powerful magical creatures, surely she could help Link somehow!

Kollin stood before the strange looking bud Tilieth had seen before, and she slid to a halt, catching his attention.

“Is that the Great Fairy?” She asked, curious and confused. “Is she in there?”

Kollin looked a bit startled, and he hesitated to respond. Tilieth was about to plead when he finally admitted, “Yes, but she hardly comes out anymore. We don’t have much to offer.”

“I have rupees!” Tilieth hastily said, pulling out all three hundred that she’d collected. “Take them!”

The bud made a strange noise, dark and even ominous sounding, and Tilieth immediately retracted her arms, nervous.

“Don’t be afraid, dear girl,” the voice spoke, sounding distorted. “Please, help me restore my power.”

Kollin smiled reassuringly. “I promise it’s safe. Please, let me see the rupees. I think she usually asks for one hundred.”

“Yes, yes, a mere one hundred rupees is all I require!” The supposed Great Fairy agreed.

Tilieth wasn’t entirely sure she trusted the voice, but she did trust Kollin, so she carefully handed the money over to him. A large hand reached out of the bud, snatching it and nearly knocking Kollin over, and Tilieth gasped, growing more scared by the moment. The voice made a sound of delight before the bud opened with a squeal, releasing puffs of pink smoke and blinding Tilieth. When she blinked her eyes open, she was dazzled by the sight of an enormous woman half submerged in water, adorned in shells and jewels, fairy wings peeking out from behind her ears.

Tilieth stared, amazed, mouth open.

“Oh, what a feeling!” The Great Fairy exclaimed, stretching and smiling. “That first breath of fresh air after such a long time of decay… it’s just so intoxicating!”

The fairy turned her eyes to Tilieth, leaning over a little and smiling serenely. “Thanks to you, I’ve been returned to my former glory. And as they say—one good turn deserves another. I can help you—”

“My son!” Tilieth immediately interjected, desperation pushing through her fear. “My son is grievously wounded, please, can you heal him?”

The Great Fairy gasped a little. “Oh, my. My dear girl, I wish that I could – perhaps my children can assist you?”

Tilieth wilted, already knowing that regular fairies were incapable of fixing the matter. The Great Fairy seemed to read that, and Kollin replied, “They haven’t been able to help, I’m afraid. But if you can summon them, I would like to have a few ready to assist my people and any traveler who passes through.”

“Of course,” Cotera replied. She raised a hand, and within seconds fairies seemed to materialize from the sky like snow petals, gently descending, wings flapping peacefully. Kollin bottled a few, thanking the Great Fairy once more, and then passed Tilieth, patting her on the shoulder sympathetically.

Tilieth stood alone, overwhelmed and upset, hope dashed once more, and she shivered as a drizzle started to speckle the area.

“Oh, dear girl,” the Great Fairy looked her over, eyes sad. “I may not be able to heal your boy, but let me help you in other ways. Allow me to enhance your clothing. It’s the least I can do, but I will need the necessary materials.”

Tilieth looked up to stare at the magical creature once more. Enhance her clothes?

“You see, I can increase their abilities to protect, or enhance inherent gifts,” Cotera explained.

But that meant— “Can you help me protect Link?”

“Of course,” Cotera answered gently. “Bring me his clothing and I can ensure he is safer than before.”

That was all Tilieth needed to hear before she was rushing down the hill back into the village. When she entered the inn, though, she immediately realized that Abel was awake and trying to ignore the innkeeper’s words.

“—all right, dear, your family is fine—”

“Abel!” Tilieth called, running to her husband as his eyes locked with hers. Abel reached out shakily, and Tilieth dragged him into a tight hug, whispering, “It’s okay, love, I’m here. Everyone’s safe, I promise.”

Abel felt heavy in her arms, sagging against her and trembling. He was clearly still exhausted, but he didn’t bother trying to argue any point, simply resting his head against her shoulder, hands grappling weakly on her tunic. He didn’t seem to have any more apologies, having spilled them repeatedly earlier, and Tilieth was honestly thankful for it. Her poor husband had apologized enough.

Tilieth kissed his ear, shifting and trying to get him to settle back down on the pillows. “You need to rest, Abel. Don’t worry about anything, okay?”

She supposed it was silly telling her husband not to worry. But he truly needed to rest – he’d driven himself nearly insane.

Abel watched her uncertainly, turning his head to look at Link. Despite wiggling a little on the mattress in an attempt to get comfortable, he couldn’t quite settle, though. Tilieth sighed, and Abel looked even guiltier for it.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him gently, brushing some hair out of his face. “It’s okay. Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

If he wasn’t going to sleep, he could at least rest. Tilieth would make sure of it. She advised Abel to stay put while she stripped Link of his tunic and trousers, leaving him bundled under some blankets, before guiding her husband to stand.

Abel was shaky on his feet, but he followed his wife wherever she went, letting her wrap an arm around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as they exited the inn.

“No more apologies,” Tilieth said firmly. “What happened is over, Abel—”

Her husband stiffened, looking at her and digging his heels into the ground. “I hurt you.”

“Yes, and then you hurt yourself,” Tilieth fired back. “Honey, I… you have to let me help you. It won’t get any better if you don’t.”

“But I—”

“You are exhausted,” she cut in, putting a hand on his cheek to settle him. “Honey, can’t you see that running away or beating yourself up about it will only make it worse?”

Tears were evident in her husband’s eyes, but he held them in, looking away and kissing her palm. When she got no further argument from him, Tilieth guided him outside of the village. Neither really knew what to say or if anything should be said as they moved. Tilieth was trying to figure out if she could even start confronting what had happened. She was afraid her words would fail her, that she would somehow make things worse, but she knew she was far more emotionally intelligent than her husband and they truly needed to address it. But Abel needed a moment to rest first. The bath would be good for that.

But first, they had to take care of helping Link. Tilieth wasn’t going to keep a Great Fairy waiting.

The fairy fountain was empty when Tilieth arrived, making her heart plummet. Had the Great Fairy left?

“What is this?” Abel asked, distracted. He watched it cautiously, but also with fascination – he too was taken in by the beauty of the place. His eyes also immediately caught sight of the fairies floating around. “Til, is… is this…?”

“A fairy fountain,” Tilieth finished for him, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

The water in the fountain rustled, making both of them jump, and then Cotera burst forth with an excited cry. Abel instinctively pushed Tilieth behind him, reaching for a weapon he wasn’t armed with, and Til tried to calm her husband hastily.

“It’s all right!” She said as the Great Fairy tilted her head to the side.

“Oh, you brought a friend!” The Great Fairy noted, intrigued. “He’s cute!”

Abel stammered, blushing, not expecting the remark. Tilieth laughed, but then she walked around her husband to offer the clothes. “Please, can you bless these? They’re my son’s.”

Cotera leaned over, examining the items. “Oh, yes, I should be able to. I only require a few items to do so.”

After hearing the listed items, Tilieth dug through her bag worriedly, and with great relief realized she had all the necessary ones. Abel looked between his wife and the Great Fairy, bemused, and watched as the large mystical woman received the offerings.

“I didn’t even realize there was a Great Fairy here,” Abel muttered. He looked shyly at Cotera, seeming a little apologetic.

Cotera looked at the clothes, smiled, and nodded, telling Tilieth to place them on the mushroom pedestal in front of her. The couple stood, waiting, and then the Great Fairy…

Blew a kiss on them?

Tilieth could feel a strange sensation, like warmth and tingling and energy, and she knew it had to be magic, could even see it in the air. But the manner in which it was delivered…

Cotera giggled in delight and then dove back into the water.

“What… just happened.” Abel said, monotone denoting a mixture of horror and confusion.

Tilieth hesitantly knelt down to examine the clothes. They didn’t look any different… but the magic had been there nonetheless. Surely it had to have done something.

“These magical creatures can be fickle,” Abel said quietly, kneeling down beside her. “Are you sure she didn’t just take your offerings and leave?”

“I saw the magic,” Tilieth argued mildly, hand running over the threads of the tunic. “Didn’t you?”

“I suppose,” Abel replied quietly, sounding dubious.

Tilieth bit her lip uncertainly. “Well… maybe we should just… well, we shouldn’t bother her, I guess. Let’s just get to the bathing area.”

Abel didn’t argue, seeming resigned to the matter. He grew quiet once more as they climbed the hill to the pond in question. Tilieth helped her husband strip down and ease into the water, exposing injuries old and new.

Tilieth’s hand traced an old scar on the back of his shoulder, and he shivered a little.

“I can bathe myself,” he finally spoke up, though his voice was still soft.

“I want to help,” Tilieth said firmly. Because that was what this was about, after all – Abel kept refusing help, continued to push himself to the point of collapse and near insanity.

It had to stop. She had already resolved she could be strong enough for everyone for a short while, long enough for Abel to get a little better.

Abel sighed, giving up.

The couple was quiet as Tilieth helped him bathe. She wasn’t entirely sure how to start the conversation of addressing what had happened, worried that he would just shut it down or she wouldn’t know what to say. Slowly, Abel started to lean back against her, letting her hold him, letting himself rest. He closed his eyes, calloused hands reaching up to gently hold her wrists as she wrapped her arms around his chest.

Tilieth finally found her voice. “What happened, Abel?”

Her husband grew tense in her hold, eyes opening, though he refused to make eye contact.

“The last thing I remember was that you had said you would sleep, and you didn’t,” she continued. “You snuck off to Hyrule Field of all places. I was so worried.”

Her husband’s face grew stony, eyes gazing off somewhere she couldn’t reach. She was worried he wouldn’t speak at all, and after a minute or so that seemed the case.

“I saw a guardian,” he finally admitted, so quietly she almost missed it.

Tilieth felt her blood freeze.

“It wasn’t real,” her husband added with a breathy, morose laugh. “I… Tilieth, I… I saw a guardian that wasn’t there, and I hurt you as a result. I’m… it isn’t safe to be around me.”

Tilieth tried to catch her breath, to make her heart rate slow down after the mere thought of a guardian being anywhere near her or her family. She swallowed thickly, moving forward to hold him again as if to prove him wrong.

Finally, she said, “The only thing… that isn’t safe… is you not sleeping.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Abel replied darkly.

Tilieth bit her tongue. No, perhaps it wasn’t. But that was the best way she could fix it right now. Lack of sleep had sent him over the edge.

But the truth of the matter was that there was clearly something wrong that sleep deprivation could lead to such a disastrous night. And, even worse, his choices as a result of that night.

Abel took a shaky breath. “My entire life… I… I’ve always had to take care of my family. But lately, I… Til, there comes a time when your usefulness is at an end.”

Tilieth swallowed, trying to argue, eyes widening with alarm.

Abel sighed, rinsing some soap off his shoulder. “I can finish up, love. Please… go back to the village.”

“No.” Her voice came out stronger than she anticipated, stubborn and hurt and scared and angry.

Abel stiffened, very obviously trying to keep his breathing even. His cheeks flushed, but his face grew cold, like it always did when he was getting frustrated.

“You’re sick,” Tilieth spat out. “You’re sick, and you’re hurt, and hurting, and—I’m not leaving you.”

“So I can get you killed too?” Abel hissed, turning sharply in the water, splashing the area around them so he could face her.

“You didn’t get anyone killed—”

“I told Link to go to Fort Hateno!” Abel yelled, rising. The area grew quiet as the birds flew away in fright, as Tilieth stared at him, speechless. “All those years ago—during the Calamity… I—I told him to go to Fort Hateno, that I would meet him there, and it got him almost killed! And then when the Shrine of Resurrection was his last hope—”

“Abel, the Shrine wasn’t your fault!” Tilieth interrupted desperately. “None of it was! You had no way of knowing—”

“What kind of father am I, that I couldn’t protect my children?!” Abel argued, tears starting to slide down his cheeks, voice shaking. “What kind of husband am I that I hit my own wife?! What kind of knight am I, that I murder my own people, that I fail to protect my king, that—”

Tilieth moved towards him hastily, holding him close as his words dissolved into sobs. Her own body trembled, mind whirling, wondering desperately how she could reach him when he had managed to get so far out of reach.

How long had he been stewing in this misery, she wondered? And why couldn’t she better help him?

It doesn’t matter, she tried to tell herself. I can’t change what was, only what is.

“You’re only Hylian,” she finally whispered, her own voice trembling as well. “You’re only Hylian, love. You’re doing your best. Sometimes we all falter.”

Abel scoffed, pushing her away. “Sometimes. Sometimes! My failures are constant—”

“You got us to Kakariko safely!” Tilieth stood up, voice strengthening, fists balling. “You protected us the entire journey from the Great Plateau, you’re single-handedly responsible for getting most of the spirit orbs that have been healing Link! You protect me for ten years! You served the kingdom faithfully! Do you really think you could’ve single-handedly stopped the Calamity? Even Link couldn’t, even the Princess couldn’t!”

Her words cut into him, which was apparent from how he flinched. Tilieth honestly wasn’t sure she’d ever yelled at her husband. Her heart was racing, her blood was surging through her, heartbeat drumming in her ears. She was terrified, but she was so frustrated—why couldn’t her beloved just listen to her?!

But the anger seeped out of her quickly. The tears returned, and she started to tremble, strength leaving her alongside her ire. “Can’t you see, Abel? Can’t you see that the only way you’re making things worse is by trying to fight me on this? The only way you can truly hurt us is by leaving us, by hurting yourself the way you are. You’re not perfect, love, none of us are. The only way we can make it though this is with faith in the goddess’ protection and trust in each other.”

Pain was evident on her husband’s face, and he took a small step back, seeming to shrivel into himself as the fight drained out of him. He looked down, ashamed. “I can’t even trust myself.”

“You don’t have to,” Tilieth whispered gently, kneeling down to be at eye level with him as he sank back into the water. She cupped his face with her hands, making him look at her. “Trust me. Don’t you trust me to take care of you?”

Abel’s lips twitched like he was going to argue further, but he thought better of it, sighing and leaning his head forward until their foreheads touched.

“I know you’re sorry,” Tilieth said before he could even try to apologize again, a small smile pulling at her lips.

Abel huffed a wet laugh, shivering and moving forward to hug her again.

Tilieth held him for what felt like an eternity, yet it still didn’t feel like long enough. Eventually, though, the coolness of the water made her husband start to shake, teeth chattering. She didn’t say anything else, out of words and exhausted, but hopeful as well. It seemed like she might have gotten through to him. Abel, for his part, also seemed too worn out to speak anymore.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress, and it gave her hope. Perhaps they could stop lingering on what had happened, then, and start to move on.

Tilieth helped Abel climb out of the water, wrapping him in a towel and holding him again so he could warm up. He rested his chin on her shoulder, leaning his head against hers, no longer fighting the matter at all. However, just as she finished drying him off and was reaching for his clothes, he said softly, “That platform… it looks like a shrine.”

Confused, Tilieth turned to look at the strange platform that she’d noticed when she’d bathed Link earlier in the day. She… supposed the color scheme was similar, but it looked nothing like a shrine, to be honest.

But Abel seemed transfixed now, eyes alight with thoughts. Tilieth let him stew on the matter a moment, more concerned about getting him dressed so he wouldn’t be cold. When she prompted him to put the clothes on, though, he continued, “Wait… the item… that orb in Impa’s home…”

Orb? There was an orb? “Honey, what are you talking about?”

Abel rose, heading towards the bridge to get back to the village, and Tilieth hastily got in his way. “Abel, get dressed!”

Her husband paused, distracted, only realizing then that he was still just in a towel, and hastily put his clothes on. Then he moved with purpose, Tilieth trailing behind him worriedly. He needed to rest, whatever this was about could wait—

Oh, who was she kidding? Abel was nothing if not persistent when he was on a quest. It was where Link got his stubbornness from. At least he was focusing on helping the family and not running away. But she would make him sleep once he’d settled the matter in his mind.

They moved hastily to Lady Impa’s abode, and the Sheikah chief looked surprised to see Abel there. Before she could get a word in, though, he pointed to something in the corner, and Tilieth felt herself gasp a little as she caught sight of it.

Honestly, she hadn’t noticed it before, but the orb did match the platform perfectly.

“We need that,” Abel said, voice not quite as firm as it usually was, but commanding nonetheless.

“I—what?” Lady Impa looked between the glowing ball and Abel. “I’m sorry, but that is a Sheikah heirloom, you can’t have that. It’s been guarded by my ancestors for centuries.”

“Yes, probably millennia,” Abel insisted. “It has to do with the shrines, don’t you see that? There’s a platform where you can place it by your bathing area.”

Impa blinked, stuttering, before looking quickly between the orb and the knight once more. “Wh—I—but—”

To his credit, Abel was patient, lowering his arm and waiting for her to parse it out. Tilieth gasped as she realized it too. “Do you think it’s a puzzle of some sort for the shrine?”

Lady Impa sighed, easing herself to the cushion on the ground as she pondered the matter. “All our research on ancient Sheikah tech and I… really just had this right here in my family’s estate…”

Abel shifted, very clearly trying to hold himself back. “So… may we use it?”

The Sheikah chief rubbed her face a moment before rising and nodding, eyes firm. “I’ll go with you.”

The chief picked up the large orb, refusing to let Abel touch it, but she followed them as they made their way back to the bathing spring. Tilieth’s mind was whirling, but she felt pride in her husband swell in her as well.

The pride grew tenfold, mixing with relief and cheer, as Lady Impa placed the orb in a perfectly carved hole, and a shrine appeared from the earth.

“You really should give yourself more credit, love,” Tilieth said gently, putting a hand on his arm. “Even in your hurt and anguish, you still help us.”

Abel chewed the inside of his cheek, and she knew he was doing that to fight to maintain composure in front of Lady Impa. He was far too tired to succeed very well, though.

“This is amazing,” Lady Impa breathed, awed. “I—we should get Link right away!”

“Yes, we should,” Tilieth agreed, before turning to Abel. “But I want you to go back to the inn and rest, please. Lady Impa and I can handle this shrine.”

Abel’s face paled, eyes widening, before he stopped himself entirely from arguing. Looking defeated, he nodded, and the group made their way back to the village. When the chief rushed inside the inn, Tilieth pulled Abel aside outside the door so they had a moment alone, and she kissed him tenderly.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, looking him in the eye. “I just want you to rest. Please, Abel. Trust me. It’s the only way you’re going to get better.”

Impa let out a yelp from inside, and Abel and Tilieth rushed indoors in an instant to find the Sheikah chief blushing.

“I didn’t realize he was just in his underwear,” the chief waved off with an embarrassed laugh.

Tilieth couldn’t help her own cackling. “I got his clothes blessed by the Great Fairy. Here, let me get him dressed and we can get going.”

She gave one last look to her husband, who looked mildly amused, and kissed his cheek, guiding him to bed before turning her attention to Link. They’d get him to the shrine as the sun was descending towards the horizon, which meant she had just enough time afterward to make dinner for her family and make some clothes for Abel.

Considering how the day had started, this was an enormous improvement, and she thanked Hylia for it.

Abel sat on the bed, watching Tilieth dress their child, and leaned against the pillows reluctantly as she and Impa left.

And then there was silence in the building.

Abel shifted a little, uncomfortable and anxious. He didn’t want Tilieth and Link going to a shrine without him. But he also knew he was in no state to be helpful to anyone. He still had half a mind to try and leave again, but he knew that was irrational fear talking, desperation and panic driven from exhaustion and—

He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Of course he was terrified, he’d—

What sort of monster was he, anyway? And how was it fair in any way for Tilieth to have to clean up the mess he’d made? He was a grown man, he should’ve kept himself in check, should’ve realized that—

Abel let out a shaky breath, burying his face in his hands as he curled in on himself. Then he heard a foot rustle across wood, and he bolted to his feet, eyes alert.

An older woman gasped a little, holding her hands up. Ah. It was the innkeeper. He couldn’t quite remember her name, though.

“It’s just me, it’s all right,” she insisted gently. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You were resting quite well earlier.”

There was no way he would be able to sleep knowing that Link and Tilieth were exploring a shrine without him. Those things were dangerous. Abel didn’t bother replying, not wanting to be rude, but not really knowing what to say aside from no. He didn’t have the energy to really care about pleasantries. At least he wasn’t being irritable, he supposed.

He wished time could just… stop. That they could use the Sheikah slate’s time magic to stop everything, for at least a week. He felt like he could sleep a month, honestly, if he knew nothing would happen or change in that time.

But that was a fool’s wish. Time didn’t stop for anyone. Anxiety gripped at him once more, making his chest tight. He needed to do something.

Glancing around, he noticed the innkeeper had started sweeping the floor when he’d been silent in response to her. He felt bad for ignoring her, and he really needed to move. “Can… may I do that?”

The innkeeper glanced up at him, a little surprised. “Do… you want to sweep? Oh, young man, I appreciate your offer, but—”

“Please,” Abel interrupted, getting somewhat desperate. If he didn’t have something to do he knew he’d just leave this place altogether. “I… I can’t just stay in bed. Put me to work, please.”

The innkeeper watched him a moment and then sighed, face sympathetic. “All right, dear. But on one condition.”

Abel perked up, listening.

“If you get tired, you have to take a break,” the innkeeper said gravely, finger in the air to emphasize her point. “You’re supposed to be resting, after all. You’ve had a harrowing time lately.”

Yes, he supposed the innkeeper had seen the majority of his outbursts. Abel felt himself blush in shame, looking at his feet, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless. The innkeeper handed her broom off to him, allowing him to sweep the floor in peace.

The repetitive motion brought some calm to his mind, and he was grateful for it. He wondered if this was why Tilieth liked to clean sometimes, though he knew she was happiest wandering outside.

He tried not to think about the events of the early morning, but it was hard not to. Now that he’d gotten a bit of sleep and time to think about it…

He didn’t know. He still wasn’t entirely sure it had been a mistake to try and leave. He hadn’t been intent on hurting himself, but given the choice between eliminating himself from the equation and potentially hurting Tilieth or Link further, the decision had been very easy.

Abel paused, growing a little breathless. Was he tired, or was he overwhelmed?

What kind of weakling am I, that I cannot handle this anymore?

You’re only Hylian, his wife’s voice whispered back. Even the Princess herself couldn’t stop the Calamity.

Abel wasn’t trying to stop the Calamity, he was trying to save Link! But he couldn’t even hold himself together anymore!

He couldn’t do everything, but Tilieth couldn’t either. He couldn’t rely on her to take care of him and Link.

Was this simply pride? Or was Abel correct, knowing tha the should be stronger than this? When Tilieth had gotten ill all those years ago, he’d taken care of Link and had gone on a mission to Zora’s Domain, fulfilling his duty, financially supporting his family, and raising their son while Tilieth recovered in Hateno. Yet now…

Tilieth was asking for the same, was asking to take care Abel and Link so he could recover.

Could he recover?

Despair filled him for a moment, and he choked it down viciously, sweeping the floor once more and ramming the broom into the wall. His grip on the item trembled, and he stopped.

“Sir Abel,” the innkeeper said gently.

Abel felt anger rise in him, but he bit back whatever scalding remark was fighting its way out. He didn’t know how to stop this.

Have faith in the goddess. Trust in each other.

Abel scowled.

Faith in the goddess. What sort of faith could he have in someone who had abandoned her people? Had she abandoned the princess too? Was that why the young girl had been incompetent?

But do you not trust Tilieth?

He needed to lay down. The world was spinning. He wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

Sighing, Abel dragged his feet over to the bed. This was a nightmare and he didn’t know how to escape it. Tilieth’s words rattled in his mind once more, and he realized it truly was just a choice. He would feel the same either way, but he had to choose to trust his wife. Either he would be miserable and alone, or miserable with her.

But what if he hurt her again? What if he hurt Link?

They were wasting time here in the village, and it was his fault. No matter what he did, it… if he tried to leave again, Tilieth would track him down. It would be ceaseless, and Link would die. Abel had to… had to…

Funny, how Tilieth had wanted to separate but refused to do so now. Abel felt bitterness and frustration rise in his gut, and he tried to let it go.

The door to the inn opened, and he saw Tilieth returning, triumphant, as Impa carried Link indoors.

“Oh, honey, it was great!” Tilieth said excitedly, rushing over to him. “You solved the puzzle and we didn’t even have to do anything! We got in there and it was just the monk and an opal.”

Abel stared, thinking about it. That had… never happened.

Goddesses… were they getting an actual reprieve for once?

“That’s… good,” he offered hesitantly, watching Impa put Link in the bed next to him.

“It’s great!” Tilieth insisted, hands clasped together before she hugged him. Abel tried to return the gesture, but his wife was too excited and pulled away quickly. “Oh, I have to make dinner, and—will you watch Link, dear?”

Abel nodded mutely, and Tilieth was out the door in an instant. Her cheer was a little infectious, he supposed, pulling a small smile on one side of his lips. Then he slowly dragged himself over to Link’s bed, pulling the boy to him and laying down as Impa turned to leave.

Before the Sheikah chief could depart, though, Abel asked, “Who were those people? From this morning. The ones who attacked us. They didn’t dress like Yiga.”

Lady Impa paused, hugging herself uncertainly. “I… don’t know. They bore something akin to the Yiga symbol on their foreheads, but like you said, they… didn’t dress like them. I’ve never encountered those people before.”

Abel swallowed, holding Link closer. “Very well.”

There was silence between the two, heavy and awkward given their last conversation, and Abel finally said, “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

“I’ll always protect your family,” Impa insisted calmly, with conviction, facing him fully. “Including you, Sir Abel. I’m glad we found you in time.”

Abel huffed, only mildly annoyed.

“Please rest, good knight,” Impa said. “I will pray for your recovery. And it will happen. I’ve seen it in other members of my tribe. The Calamity left scars on us all. You have to allow yourself to heal. Tilieth is more than willing to help.”

Abel stared at the wall, unable to face the chief, feeling like a fool, like a child lost in Castle Town’s bustling atmosphere, freshly orphaned and wondering what he was supposed to do now while his sisters cried. He hated feeling this helpless. He nodded, and he heard the chief leave.

The room fell silent. He wondered if the innkeeper was still there, or if she’d stepped out. Link was silent and motionless as usual. Abel felt tempted to rouse him just to see his eyes, just to talk to him, but he figured the boy needed rest more than he did. So he simply kissed his head and closed his eyes.

He didn’t know what the future would bring. But he knew this respite couldn’t last, no matter what choice he made. They would have to leave tomorrow. But for tonight, he wouldn’t think about any of it, even if that went against every fiber of his being.

Recovery was a choice. Trust was a choice. Tilieth made that choice as she prayed outside at the Hylia statue while the food simmered in the cooking pot. Abel made that choice as he tried to sleep, disregarding Link wiggling in the bed, listening to the crickets peek out and start their symphony of the night.

Trust was a choice. He would try to make it.

He would try.

[sterling-starlight]

The Way We Heal

(Kinda-sorta spoilers for 5k Trainer week 4, day 1)

Sam’s distance bothered Runner Five. Admittedly she didn’t know him all that well, since she had been all but banned from visiting him in the hospital.

(”It isn’t you,” Maxine informed Runner Five gently. “Not exactly. It’s who you replaced. I’ve managed to get Sam to start talking but...” she let out a breath through her nose. “There is still more we need to discuss. More that he needs to get out into the open. Seeing you before he’s ready to get back to work might cause him to relapse. I hope you understand.”) 

Sam sounded horrible over the headset. Tired, drained, and broken. It sounded like it physically pained him to call her by her number. She had to do something.  She fast-walked to the runner’s barracks after she had dropped off her headset. Maxine had told her that Sam had left the shack right after Runners Five and Four had come back to Abel. If she hurried, she would be able to catch him before he locked himself away. 

“Sam!” Runner Five called out as soon as she spotted him, walking like he had lead weights tied to his ankles towards the barracks. He turned back to look at her, and gave her a smile that was probably supposed to be friendly and casual. It looked more like he was trying not to cry. 

“Oh... hey there,” he replied once Runner Five slowed to a stop beside him. “Runner-” His breath hitched in his throat again, and he averted his gaze. “Runner-” He attempted again, but Five held her hand up to stop him.

“Stop. Just don’t, okay? You can call me by my name, if it’s easier for you. It’s Ish-”

“No!” Sam interrupted, too quickly and too frantically. It took him a good ten seconds to recompose himself.“I’m... glad you think we’re close enough for me to call you by your real name. But just...” He ran his hands down his face, “... not yet.” He said weakly. Sam dropped his hand listlessly back to his sides. “Was there anything you needed?”

“To talk,” Runner Five answered simply. She crossed her arms, “I know you’ve been talking to Maxine, but maybe... another person would help? I don’t know.” She finished lamely, kicking up a small cloud of dirt. “...Do you like stargazing? ‘Cause I found a pretty good place not too long ago. You know that empty plot of land next to the hospital? It’s there. Do you want to come with me after dinner?”

“I’ll consider it. I was planning on going through Alice’s things tonight,” Sam paused and took a deep, long, steadying breath. “So I can’t promise anything tonight. Sorry.” 

--

True to his word, Sam didn’t show up that night. Runner Five didn’t see him at all the following day, and she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that she had overstepped something somewhere.  Jesus Christ. Of all the things that were crammed into her brain when she was taking psychology, why wasn’t ‘The Basics of PTSD; How To Help Your Friend’ included? It would have been infinitely more helpful to her than learning about Sigmund Freud. 

Runner Five picked at the dirt until she loosened a stone-sized clot from its fracture and sent it skittering across the ground with a sharp flick of her wrist. There was only about two hours before curfew was called. She sighed and looked up at the night sky. Ten minutes. She would give Sam another ten minutes. 

Those ten minutes turned to twenty. Thirty. Forty. Fifty. And then finally an hour. Runner Five sighed and pushed herself off the ground, brushing the dirt off her backside as she did so.  

“Why did I think he would even want to come?” Five said to herself, brushing the dirt off her hands. “It’s not like we’re even really that close.” 

“Erm.. am I too late?”

“Jesus Fucking Christ in a Sunday Mass!” 

Runner Five jumped nearly a foot in the air, and turned to look, wide-eyed, at Sam. He grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“That’s all it takes to scare you? Someone sneaking up behind? Never took you for the jumpy type.”

“That someone could be a zombie.”

“A talking zombie? God, could you imagine?” Sam put on a ridiculous accent that was, probably, his attempt at an American one. “Excuse me, young lady. I would like to announce that I would like very much to eat you. Please and thank you.” 

Runner Five snorted a laugh, “Okay, smart-ass, you win.”  

Same laughed, and for thew first time in over a week it actually sounded half-way genuine. “So, is it too late to stare at the stars with you? I mean. curfew’s in about an hour and all.”

“Get over here and lay down.” Runner Five replied, dropping herself back onto the ground. She patted the spot next to her before falling onto her back. Sam did as he was told, laying down a good arm’s reach away from her and folding his hands against his stomach. He contemplated the sky for nearly a minute before asking, 

“So... what are we looking at?”

“Okay, so, we’re currently facing north. It’s, what, mid-June-ish? Ursa Minor is almost directly above us,” Runner Five pointed a finger at the sky towards the aforementioned constellation, “the tail of Draco is right below that. See it?”

“Nnnnnnnnno. I don’t even know what Ursa Minor is.” 

“It’s a constellation that has the Polaris star- you know, the North Star? Find that, then look directly below it. If you look closely, you’ll be able to see the curvature of Draco’s tail. If you need help finding Draco, you just need to find Gamma Draconis since it’s-”

“I’m just going to stop you there, because you honestly lost me at North Star.” Sam cut in. “How do you know so much about the stars anyway?”

“My dad was an Astronomer,” Five replied fondly. “When I was little, and I got scared, he would take me stargazing. If I had a nightmare, he’d take me out into the backyard and point out constellations to me. It’s helped me a lot, especially since... you know,” Five waved a hand in the air, “the end of the world and all.” She let her hand fall onto the dirt. 

“I see,” Sam said quietly. “That’s sounds really nice. Brilliant, actually.” He turned his head to look at Runner Five’s profile, “but I don’t suppose you didn’t ask me out here to reminisce about your dad.”

“That wouldn’t help you at all,” Runner Five replied, shaking her head. She turned on her side to face Sam. “I’m hoping stargazing will help you like it’s helped me. Just a calm, quiet way to disconnect from the rest of the world, you know?”

“That’s...” Sam sucked in a chocked breath. “You barely know me. I nearly got you killed during your training.  Why are you being so nice?” 

“To put it bluntly, it’s because I know what you’re going through. When I was an Enforcer back at Mullins, I lost my Runner. The difference being that I was barely given any time to properly mourn her.” Runner Five grabbed a fistful of dirt, and then let it fall loosely between the cracks of her fingers. “My commanding officers told me: “Enforcer Romeo, this is the new Runner Eighteen. Keep him safe and don’t get him killed.” I didn’t get any sort of meaningful support. I didn’t have anyone to reach out to, because when a Runner or Enforcer died hardly anyone bloody fucking cared.” She snarled the last part of her sentence, her hand fisting into the dirt. She let out a deep exhale, “going through that was Hell. So, bottom line: I’m here for you, Sam. You don’t have to talk to me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. I’d be fine if you just stared at the sky with me and didn’t say a word. 

Sam turned onto his back again, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Five...” It almost sounded like a sob, but it wasn’t quiet at that point yet. He quickly changed the subject. “Enforcer Romeo, was it?” He laughed lightly, “that’s certainly a designation. Were all Enforces called something like that?”

“Oh yeah. For some really weird reason, Mullin’s commanding officers decided to designated Enforcers by the phonetic alphabet and Runners by numbers. Which brings me to the other half of what I wanted to say yesterday. You can call me ‘Romeo’, or ‘Rome’, if it’s still too hard to think of me as the new Runner Five.” 

“I appreciate the offer but, no. I’m not doing that.” Sam ran a hand through his hair, “Maxine says that in order for me to recover, I have to come to terms with the fact that you’re Runner Five now. But, let’s not worry about that now. I think I actually do see that Draco-thing you were talking about earlier. Is it that curvy line of stars right above us?”

Runner Five frowned slightly. He was avoiding the subject. Despite every single urge in her body to fight and argue the point because, damn it, she was doing this for him, she swallowed down her petty desire to get the last word in. She rolled back onto her back and correctly identified Draco in the sky. 

[jakobs-stories-blog]

“joyride”

The only thing on my mind was escaping that deathtrap of a classroom. My face felt on fire as I scrambled to collect my belongings while every eye of every person in that room was fastened on me. Despite my shaking hands I managed to grab my science papers from my desk and I began to head for the door. Naturally, being me, I stumbled over every chair I walked past and only embarrassed myself further. It was when I got to the door that I finally snapped. Tears flew out of my eyes and I began to heave violently. I ignored every soul in that hallway until I got to my locker where I dropped to my knees and buried my face in my jittery hands. I thought teachers were supposed to oppose bullies, not become them.

While I knelt at my locker, I became oblivious to life around me. I heard nothing, saw only black and focused solely on breathing. It must’ve been an hour before I finally rose from my state of suffering; I checked my watch and saw that it was seven minutes before school ended. A light, airy sensation flooded through me. Slightly reenergized by this joyous fact, I zipped up my backpack and slammed my locker door shut. A small, yellow paper fell to the ground. Without hesitating, I reached down and grabbed the paper. It had been folded twice in half and was taped shut. I tore off the tape and opened it:

“if you want to get him back, meet me by the water fountain after school.” -zack

Something inside of me told me to do it. To go to the water fountain and meet Zack. I didn’t even think about it. I wandered to the water fountain to meet a kid whom I had only spoken to a few times.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m really sorry about…what happened. That was a dick-move by Bickett.”

“Don’t be sorry. I guess he’s just like that.” I replied, faking a smile.

“No. Don’t make excuses for him. Even if disrespect is one of his character qualities it’s not okay for him to say what he said to you. That was verbal harassment. That was borderline criminal,” There was passion in Zack’s eyes when he spoke. “I mean, I wouldn’t count on Abel Bickett to be caught up on rules and regulations. The dude is a high school science teacher for a reason.” I laughed immediately. Mr. Bickett was known for being on the dumber end and it wasn’t uncommon for people to joke about it. “So, I’m assuming you got the note then?” he asked.

“Yeah. But why do you want to help me? We don’t even talk that much.” I said.

“Look. I hate bullies. And no, I’m not gonna go on for hours about my sappy, sad bully story but know this: no bully goes unharmed.” he said, stepping closer to me. “Now. Follow me.”

Zack led me out to his car where he explained his plot for revenge on our science teacher. He opened the trunk and uncovered a black box. After brushing off the thick, white dust that covered it he lifted it out and set it on the ground. I had no idea what could be in it. “You aren’t planning on murdering Bickett, are you?” Zack laughed and proceeded to open it.

“No. I’m not going to kill Bickett,” he said, prying the thing open. “just…spook him a little bit.” He lifted the lid of the box and revealed a mass quantity of fireworks.

“Are those even legal?” I asked.

“Of course not. That’s why I’m hiding them in a black box in the trunk of my car.” he said, smiling wide. “These little guys right here are going to help us immensely.” He picked one of the fireworks out from the box and handed it to me. “But, before I explain my plan any further, we need to get out of here. People might get slightly suspicious when they catch us with highly illegal pyrotechnics in a high school parking lot.” I handed the firework back to him. “I’ll be at the window of your bedroom and eight o’clock tonight. Be ready.” he said looking straight into my eyes.

“Okay.”

I spent the rest of that afternoon and evening with nothing on my mind but my adventure to come. I knew it would involve fireworks but I had no other information of what Zack planned to do. I guess we can say that he was the secretive type. A knock on my window came promptly at eight. “Hi.” I said, helping Zack through the window.

“Nice room,” he said. “very pink. I like it.”

“Thanks.” I said with a laugh.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

“Where?”

“Mr. Bickett’s house.” He must’ve seen the confusion on my face because he quickly continued. “Don’t worry. We’ll be safe. You have to trust me.” Something in the way he said those words instantly earned him my faith.

“I trust you.” I said.

He lead me back out of my window and down onto the grass of my front yard. We ran over to his car which was parked a few houses down and got in. He began talking the instant we started driving. “I thought I should warn you,” he said. “you’re about to commit grand theft auto. I thought you should know.”

“Excuse me!” I screamed.

“Don’t freak out! I’ve done this before. You’ll be fine.” he said.

“I’m not stealing Bickett’s car.”

“Oh yes you are.” he said, looking ahead at the road.

“Oh no I’m not, Mr. Car-thief! Are you insane?”

“You said you trusted me. And were too far now; no going back.”

My heart was racing.  A little revenge would’ve been nice but I thought that committing a felony was too much. However, Zack was right: it would be stupid to turn back now.

We got to Mr. Bickett’s house at 8:13. All of the lights in the house were dark but one, and nobody was to be seen. Zack finally told me the rest of his plan. “Okay listen up because this is gonna be crazy.” I nodded. “You’re going to take the fireworks to the backyard; i’ll give you my lighter. When you get there wait for my call.” I nodded again and he continued. “When you hear me yell, ignite the fuses and run back out to the front. Stay low and don’t be seen. We cannot get caught doing this.” My heart rate skyrocketed. “I’ll take care of the rest,” he said. “remember, run back out to the front when you’ve lit the fireworks.”

We got out of the car and he gave me my equipment: seven bottle rockets and an old Bic lighter. “Take these to the back,” he said. “he won’t see you, don’t worry.” I slowly made my way to the back gate and opened it. Mr. Bickett’s back yard was nothing like how I envisioned it. The grass was long and the bushes and trees were unkempt. It was a rather uninviting place and here I was, uninvited with a bundle of bottle rockets. Not exactly the ideal situation. I picked a spot behind a tree and waited for Zack’s call. I had waited minute and then I heard Mr. Bickett’s doorbell ring. I knew it was Zack. Only a few seconds after the ring, I heard his call. Immediately I reached for the lighter and I stuck each bottle rocket into the soft dirt. One by one I lit the fuses until all were ablaze and ready to blow. I sprinted away from the havoc I had just created and heard them pierce the night sky before I could even reach the gate. I busted through the latter and ran out to the front. No Zack. I looked around, staying low to avoid drawing attention to myself, but I couldn’t find the boy anywhere. I did notice, though, that Mr. Bickett’s front door was wide open and unattended. I knew Zack had gone inside. I waited eagerly for what seemed like ages until my partner in crime (literally) sprinted through the door and towards me. “Follow me and be quiet.” he said. I followed him over to Mr. Bickett’s car. Zack had Mr. Bickett’s car keys in his hand. “Get in!” he yelled. I hopped in without even thinking and Zack sped off down the road.

“How did you get his keys!” I asked.

“It worked! We did it Rachel!” he set out into a joyous laughter. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Zack, answer me. How did you get the keys?”

“So you heard the doorbell right?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“After I rang it, I hid. Then I yelled for you to light the fireworks.”

“Continue.” I said.

“Well, Bickett went to the door and saw that no one was there. Seconds later he heard the fireworks. Totally confused, he left the door and ran to the back yard. He was panicked! I then ran through the wide open door, grabbed the keys from the key-rack and ran out to you!” he said, breathing hard. “It worked Rachel!”

I was shaking with adrenaline. Zack’s plan had worked and we had successfully stolen my teacher’s car. “So what do we do now?” I asked, still beaming.

“We joyride.”

Zack and I spent the next hour blasting Nirvana with the windows down and laughing like maniacs. We took dirt roads, drifting around the corners and even went to the local mall to bounce over every speed-bump we could find. It was incredible. Mr. Bickett of course must’ve been terrified. First, fireworks had exploded in the cool, black sky above his suburban home and next his car is stolen. The worst part, he is unaware that two of his students are behind it all.

After we had had our fun we abandoned Mr. Bickett’s old sedan only four blocks down from his home. Zack wrote a note and left it on the dash:

“think twice before bullying a student again. you’re lucky we aren’t as cruel as you are or this car would be as burnt as your bed is.”

“Zack please tell me you didn’t light his bed on fire.” I asked.

All he did was wink.

© jakob sauer