#forestfriend.txt

[nurselynn]

A Fascinating Forest Friend :: Part One

Deep in the forest, in the middle of a dreary Cascadia autumn, an unlikely bond blossoms between the sun and the moon.

pairing :: tamarack baumann & pran taylor word count :: 2.6k notes :: very loosely inspired by canon, but does not contain spoilers or any actual events. ♡

read on ao3 :: all parts

The first time Tamarack saw the boy, she had been crying.

It was a damp, dreary day at the beginning of autumn. The leaves were soft underfoot as Tamarack trudged through the forest, familiar to her now as well as her own backyard was. It was a comfort to her, to have all this space to herself, all this room to explore and wander and just be to herself. To just be.

She wasn't the crying type, usually. Of course, if Tamarack was feeling something, she wasn't one to suppress or hide it. But she usually didn't have anything that made her feel like crying, really. Honest.

Until her mother called.

It was the first phone call she had gotten since she had last seen her parents in the summer. That had been... what, three or four weeks ago now? Tamarack hadn't noticed it at the time, too busy in the forest or with her new friends to really think about it. The passage of time seems so separate from yourself when you're young.

But when Omi passed her the phone, saying it was her mother, Tamarack felt a swell of emotions in her heart before she ever even took the phone from her grandmother. Excitement, a strange sadness, and beneath it all, a perplexing amount of fear that should couldn't quite explain.

The call had been... short. Tamarack had tried to recount her adventures to her mother, tried to tell her about her new best friend Franky, her time with Opa and Omi, the amazing outside world she had become so enamored with... But all her mother seemed interested in was school, and whether Omi was being nice to her.

And Tamarack supposed those were good things to ask about, too! But after she answered those things (school was fine, Omi was the best grandma anyone could ever ask for), her mother seemed to lose interest. The call became clipped, full of "mhm" and "oh, interesting" interjections as Tamarack tried her best to speak. Finally, her mother cut the call short, saying that she had to get back to work.

"Oh, but what about Papa?" Tamarack had asked, fingers gripping the little flip phone a bit tighter. "Is he there?"  "Tamarack, you know he's even busier than I am," her mother had replied with a sigh, and Tamarack frowned.      "Just for a second? I wanted to—"      "Tamarack, baby, he's busy. I'll get him to call you when he has the time."      They exchanged clipped goodbyes. Tamarack realized she hadn't said 'I love you,' but just as she began to get the words out of her mouth, the little chirp of the call ending sounded in her ear, deafening.

It had sent her into tears instantly.

Without telling Omi the call had ended, Tamarack pushed the cell phone back on the kitchen counter and sprinted outside, forgoing everything in her haste, even her beloved messenger bag.

The world was blurred by tears, but Tamarack knew her backyard and the surrounding woods so well that it didn't matter. She took herself deeper into the forest as fast as her shaking little legs could carry her, her mind a blur of emotion and hurt too big for a ten year old to even handle.

Her jog slowed down to a trudging walk as she came to the denser part of the woods, the part where the trail disappeared into long grass and ferns. It was dark, early evening, and the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds. It wasn't raining, but it seemed it recently had, with the ground sloshing slightly as she walked. Tears were still streaming steadily down Tamarack's own face, though, and showed no sigh of stopping, either.

Why were the things her parents had to do so much more important than her? 

Tamarack tried to be understanding. They were busy people, and so was she. She couldn't always be around every time someone else wanted her; she had her own things to do. But... she always found time for Franky and Qiu and Omi and Opa. She always made time for them when they wanted her. And... they made time for her, too. Mama and Papa never... they never...  

Soon, whether because of emotion or because she had walked so long without a break, Tamarack realized she was exhausted. She just wanted to lay down and hide from the world, to sleep this off and not have to worry about who made time for her and who didn't.

Tamarack didn't mind getting dirty; not usually, and especially not right now. So when she found a spot near the base of a tree, thicketed by ferns and free of branches or rocks, she let herself lay down without hesitation. She wished she had brought her messenger bag to cushion her head, but her arms worked just fine. She curled up, half way on her side and half way on her belly, her arms folded beneath her head so she could rest her cheek on them, and just let herself cry.

Was there something wrong with her? Had she done something to make her parents mad, and that was the real reason she had to stay here instead of with them? She knew that sometimes, she could be annoying without meaning to. She could be too loud and get in people's faces and wasn't a good listener sometimes. Her face burned as she remembered the first time she met Darren, how she had been so excited to meet one of Qiu's friends that she had unintentionally made everyone mad at her. Or when she tried to ride Baxter's bike and embarrassed herself by nearly falling off and causing a scene. That happened with her parents sometimes, too, where she would be too loud and "rambunctious" that it messed up their stuff, or irritated them, and they didn't want her around anymore... 

Another wave of sniffles and tears hit her. She couldn't help but let out loud sobs as the hurt took over.

Tamarack's sobs were so overwhelming, so loud, that she almost didn't hear the rustling of branches just near her. But as she steadied herself, trying to breathe, she could definitely hear the slow, muffled sound of steps drawing closer to her.

Breath still stuttering, she pushed herself up into a half-sitting, half-laying position to see what was near her. She didn't even have to blink the tears from her blurry eyes to see a mostly pale figure a few feet from her, half obscured by bushes and the trunk of a tree.

...huh?

Tamarack blinked, sitting up fully and rubbing at her eyes to see better. When she could see more clearly, she was relieved to see that it was thankfully not a ghostly apparition come to visit her, but just a kid.

Their hair was all long and white, curling down their shoulders almost to their elbows. It shone in the darkness of the forest, almost silver in the moonlight. It blended in with their pastel and white clothes, giving off the impression of being ghostly, especially against the backdrop of the dreary autumn forest. But Tamarack was sure this was just a kid, especially with the soft baby face that gazed unsurely at her from behind the tree.

Tamarack sniffled, unable to stop crying completely, but her woes were mostly pushed aside at the appearance of a new person. Someone she had definitely never seen before.

"Hi," she said with a wave of her hand. She wanted to smile, but she didn't have it in her heart right now.

The kid remained where they were. From what Tamarack could see, their dark, thick eyebrows were creased in the middle, and they had their own sad frown on their face. It was almost like they mirrored each other.

"I..." She sniffled again, wiping her face with the back of her hand. A tendril of sadness coiled in her gut, tightening almost painfully. She was being loud and obnoxious again. "I'm probably bothering you. Being loud and stuff."

The kid didn't reply to that. But Tamarack could see them moving ever so cautiously, slowly revealing more of themself from behind the tree. She could see more of the pattern of their sweater; pastel pink and yellow and blue, almost like an Easter egg. There were cats and pretty flowers on it, too.

"I really like your sweater," Tamarack said, the compliment no less sincere just because she sniffled through it. "It looks really nice on you."

That made the kid pause. They glanced down at their sweater before looking back toward Tamarack. Their hands came up, twisting their fingers together in front of their chest, almost nervously.

They hadn't spoken the whole time, but that didn't deter Tamarack. Really, the fact that they hadn't already walked away from her yet was encouraging to her. Maybe they were just shy, but they were still here, still looking at her, still with her. That was something, at least.

Tamarack stood up from her spot on the ground. She had dirt on her side and on her hands, but she didn't mind. It would brush away or wash off eventually.

"My name is Tamarack," she said. Her voice was steadier, more sure than it had been when she first spoke. "What's your name? I've never seen you here before."

She had hoped that the kid would at least give her an answer to that, but they didn't. They stood next to the tree, fingers wringing together still. There was a good ten feet or more between them — she couldn't tell for sure — but now that they were both on their feet, it became clear to Tamarack that this kid was way taller than her. Taller even than Baxter or Darren, but they didn't look any older than those boys. Not with that baby face.

Hm. This was tricky. How could she find out stuff about them if they wouldn't answer her? But Tamarack was not so easily deterred. This kid intrigued her, and she would crack their shell for sure.

"Do you live around here?" she asked after a moment.

To her delight, they nodded. Oh! Maybe they just couldn't say words. That was fine — Tamarack could definitely work with this.

"That's cool! I've just never seen you out here, is all. That's why I asked." She took a few steps forward, but when she saw the other kid hesitantly take a step back, she stopped. She remembered meeting Darren, remembered being scolded for getting in his personal space when he hadn't wanted it. So she stopped, not wanting to scare this new friend away too.

She rocked on her feet for a second, thinking.

"Are you a girl?" she asked just to say something. In her own mind, she really thought they might be. 

But that got a slow shake of the kid's head, their long white hair swaying with the motion. Oh. Hm. 

"Are you a boy?" she continued, and though there was a longer pause between her words and their answer, she did receive a small nod of their head. His head. A boy. 

Admittedly, Tamarack had been interested in the idea of having a girl friend around here. Qiu had his boys' club, and Franky was, well, Franky. But even if this kid was a boy, that was fine with her. A friend was a friend, no matter what.

"Okay. I'm a girl." Tamarack smiled. "And my name is Tamarack. Did I say that before?" She wasn't sure, but it didn't matter now. All of her negative energy had thankfully dissipated, her mind solely occupied by this mystery of a boy before her.

The boy just blinked at her, a tiny nod at her mostly rhetorical question, and that got Tamarack giggling. "I like you already," she said decisively.

That was the first thing that she had said that got an actual reaction out of the boy; it was one of pure shock. Those thick eyebrows made a retreat for his hairline beneath the wispy white bangs, and his eyes widened almost comically. His mouth fell open, and Tamarack thought for a brief moment that he might actually speak to her, before it snapped back closed in an instant.

But then, Tamarack realized, that reaction might not have been just for her.

Behind her, she could faintly hear the muffled sound of leaves being stirred up. She spun on her feet, excited to have two unexpected visitors to the woods today, and very distantly, with enough squinting, she could make out cranberry colored hair down the way, coming through the trees.

"Tamarack!" came the familiar voice of Franky when they spotted her. They waved their hands above their head, and Tamarack jumped up, mirroring their motion with a bright grin.

"Franky! Franky!"

Her best friend took very little time to catch up to her in the clearing. When they reached her, Tamarack grasped onto their hands, swinging them with a little squee.

"What are you doing out here?" Franky asked, still swinging Tamarack's hands slightly. "I heard you talking. Are you playing a game or something?"

Tamarack shook her head. Her golden auburn hair swayed around her face, bouncing effortlessly back into place. "No, no, I just met him. I was asking him questions and—"

"Wait, huh?" Franky said, interrupting Tamarack with a confused look on their face. Their eyes darted around the forest, befuddled, before settling back on Tamarack. "Who is he?"

"He's a new boy I've never seen before," Tamarack explained. She stepped back from Franky, holding her hand out to gesture behind her. "I don't know his name, but—"

She turned her face to get another look at the kid, before realizing there was no one behind her.

...huh?

The bewilderment was evident on Tamarack's face. She turned her whole body around, swiveling her head multiple times, before realizing that there really was no one here in this clearing with them.

She turned back to Franky, her eyebrows up and her eyes wide with surprise.

"Franky, I swear, there was another kid here!" she said with an emphatic wave of her hands at the empty air near her, as if insisting upon it would make the child rematerialize before them. "He was tall, taller than Qiu's friends, and he had long white hair and sad eyes, and he had a cute sweater with kitties on it." She gestured to each part on herself in turn for demonstrative purposes.

Franky watched this all with a raised eyebrows, their hand resting contemplatively on their chin as they tried to decide whether they believed her or not.

"Hm. Okaaay." They glanced around once more, then looked back down at Tamarack. "Then where did he go?"

Tamarack's shoulders slumped defeatedly. "I don't know. He seemed nervous. Maybe us being loud scared him off..."

A sad, cold pang of hurt shot through Tamarack's belly once more, and she tried not to pay it much mind, though she visibly deflated after the words left her mouth. Of course. Of course she would scare off a new friend by being weird and obnoxious.

She looked up at the sky, as if searching for answers. It was getting darker now, the moon completely hidden behind heavy clouds.

Before she could dwell on her thoughts for too long, though, she felt the comforting, familiar weight of Franky's arm around her shoulder.

"Well, if he can't appreciate our hilarious loud selves, who needs him?" they said, face adorned with that playful grin that never failed to brighten Tamarack's day. "Come on. I wanted to show you something I found in my backyard! Something only us cool, awesome kids get to see, okay?"

And so, with a tentative, bashful smile, Tamarack let Franky lead her back to the cul-de-sac, taking only a fading memory of that sad, quiet boy with her.

all parts :: next

[nurselynn]

A Fascinating Forest Friend :: Part Two

Deep in the forest, in the middle of a dreary Cascadia autumn, an unlikely bond blossoms between the sun and the moon.

pairing :: tamarack baumann & pran taylor word count :: 2.1k

read on ao3 :: all parts :: part one

The next time that Pran saw the girl, he had been the one crying.

It had been a rough day. It started out with Pran waking up in the freezing cold, shivering under his little fleece throw blanket on his mattress on the floor. Daddy must have come home and turned off the heat to save electricity last night, and the thin trailer walls did nothing to keep the chill out.

Shaking hands fumbled around the floor, searching through discarded clothes to find something, anything to keep his body warm. Pran couldn't stand the cold, not after living in so many warm places all his life. But he also couldn't stand the thought of wearing a shirt to bed. Freezing or suffocated, he wasn't sure which would even be worse.

But finally, his hands landed on what he had been looking for: the only warm sweater he owned that fit, that pretty pastel sweater with the kittens on it that Amma had bought him when they moved here. It got a lot of use from Pran, and as such, had become worn and faded in a very short time. It also didn't see many washes, considering he was wearing it more often than not when one of his parents decided to finally do laundry, and the threads had begun collecting twigs and crunched up leaves from his time in the woods. He didn't mind, though; he liked that it was pretty, and it kept him warm, so he didn't particularly care if it was a bit dirty.

Pran had started searching through the cabinets for something to eat — if he was lucky, maybe Daddy had stopped by the food bank and brought home something other than canned lentils or dried fruit — but there was nothing in the kitchen that wasn't there yesterday. Which is to say, not much at all. He had just begun checking the jars in the fridge for their expiration dates, when he heard the muffled sound of voices coming from down the hall and froze.

It was Amma and Daddy, of course. They were hardly ever at home, even more rarely at the same time, and for that Pran was grateful. It wasn't that he particularly disliked either of his parents... but he definitely disliked them when they were together. Them being at home together meant they were probably arguing, arguing about Naans, about him. It made his stomach churn even more painfully than the hunger did, and he felt light-headed all of a sudden.

He hated it. Hated hearing it, hated knowing that they were probably mad at him, that he had probably done something bad and wrong and Naans were mad — probably mad at Daddy, but Daddy would get mad at Amma about it, and Amma would get mad at Pran for not doing better to make everyone happy, and... It scared him, not knowing what he did, what they were talking about. But it was about him, always about him.

This was the only time they ever paid attention to him, wasn't it? When he had messed up. Pran could clean the house, wash the clothes, pass whatever tests he had to take so he wouldn't have to go to real school... but that was never important. Only when he was bad. Only when he tried to make Naans happy, and his parents would get mad, or when he tried to make his parents happy, and Naans would get mad, and... Why wasn't he important other than when he was bad?

He was so deep in his anxious, angry thoughts, heart beating hard and head woozy, that the sound of his parents' door popping open was as startling as a gunshot. The glass jar in his trembling hands dropped, shattering at his feet, and glass and jam coated the floor. Pran could only stare down at it in mortified horror, his face hot. Oh no. Oh no oh no.

"Pranala?" came Amma's voice, and before she could say anything else, Pran bolted.

His feet didn't stop moving and his breaths didn't stop coming in ragged pants until he was deep in the woods across town. Only under the veil of dreary autumn trees did he allow himself to stop, and his hands were still shaking. Despite walking for miles and being out of breath, he felt restless, if only on the inside.

Honestly, he wanted to just drop to the ground and curl up into a little ball and disappear into the grass beneath him. He felt so bad, his lungs hurt, and he didn't know why. Well, he knew why, but he didn't know why it was so bad. 

Why couldn't he just... let his mind take a backseat in his body and accept things, like he always did? It wasn't something he did on purpose, or something he had ever really thought about, until now, now that he couldn't, now that he was sitting in the forefront of his own mind and he had no way to keep the fear and the hurt from getting at him. He was feeling all of it at once, every bit of bad emotion and uncertainty and...

He just wished he didn't have to.

The cold wind bit at his face more harshly than it usually did, and Pran realized belatedly that it was because he was beginning to cry. Ugh. Even just realizing that he was crying made him cry harder, a hard lump forming in his throat and his hands coming up to rub stubbornly at his eyes. But the tears wouldn't stop coming, and it wasn't long before they turned into full-on sobs.

Pran ducked his head into his sweater, pulling the neckline up over his eyes. He pressed the sweater against his face, breathing shakily, trying to will the tears and sobs and that lump in his throat to just go away. He wanted everything to go away. Including himself.

But of course, the opposite would happen. Of course. 

A flurry of leaves being kicked around startled him once more. Someone was coming. Pran didn’t even waste time processing anything this time before he began scrambling to climb up the nearest tree. He had to hide.

Pran’s thin legs and trembling hands worked on instinct, grasping at the rough bark as he scrambled up the tree. His breath hitched with every movement, his sweater catching on the branches as he climbed higher, fast and desperate. He didn’t know who it was, didn’t care — all he knew was that he couldn’t be seen like this. He didn’t want anyone to see him crying, didn’t want anyone to ask questions, didn’t want anyone to see how worthless and pathetic he felt.

Once he had climbed high enough — or at least as high as he dared — Pran perched on a thick branch, his thighs clenching tight around the tree limb. He buried his face in the crook of his arms, muffling his sobs as best as he could. His sweater smelled faintly of the woods, of earth and rain and leaves, and he tried to focus on that instead of the lump in his throat or the ache in his chest.

The footsteps below came closer, crunching softly over the fallen leaves and twigs. Pran peeked down through the lattice of branches, just barely lifting his head, and saw her.

It was the girl.

The one from before. The one with the auburn hair like sunshine and the big, curious eyes and the voice that had been so warm and earnest even while she sniffled. Tamarack, she had said her name was. Pran’s stomach twisted into a nervous knot as he watched her scan the forest floor, her hands on her hips and her brow furrowed in determination.

“Tamarack!” came another voice, distant but growing louder. That other kid, the loud one with the cranberry-red hair, was calling after her again. Pran’s heart stuttered. Of course she wasn’t alone. Why would she be? A girl like her probably had tons of friends. And if she heard him crying, if she told someone else about him, then—

“I heard it,” Tamarack muttered to herself, interrupting Pran’s thoughts as she spotted the tree he was in. She tilted her head back, and for one terrifying moment, Pran thought she was looking directly at him. He held his breath, pressing himself as close to the trunk as he could, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it.

But she didn’t seem to actually spot him. Instead, she crouched by the base of the tree, poking around in the bushes. “Where’d you go this time?” she murmured, her voice soft. She sounded almost... sad.

Pran frowned, confused despite himself. Was she talking to him? No, that didn’t make sense. She couldn’t know he was up here. But then why—

“Tamarack!” The red-haired kid appeared from between the trees, their hands stuffed into the pockets of their oversized green hoodie. “What are you doing? You’re gonna get all muddy.”

“I’m looking for him!” Tamarack said, brushing a strand of golden hair out of her face as she stood. Her voice was louder now, not the soft tone she spoke with before. “I think he was here.”

The other kid squinted at her, clearly skeptical. “The tall, sad, ghost kid? Tamarack, come on. I told you, he probably wasn’t even real. Maybe you imagined him.”

“I didn’t imagine him!” Tamarack spun around to face them, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “He was real, Franky. I know he was real. He—” She stopped abruptly, glancing down at her feet. Her voice softened when she spoke again. “He just looked like he needed a friend, that’s all.”

Pran’s chest tightened. He didn’t know why her words affected him so much. Maybe it was the way she said it, like she really meant it. Like she wasn’t just saying it to sound nice or to be polite. Like she really cared.

But... no. She didn’t even know him. She couldn’t care about him. No one did. Not really.

“Even if he is real, Tamarack,” Franky said, tugging a leaf out of their hair, “he probably doesn’t wanna be found. You said he ran off last time, right? Maybe he just wants to be left alone.”

Tamarack sighed, crossing her arms. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to find him.” She glanced back at the tree, her eyes scanning the branches. Pran ducked behind the trunk, his breath catching in his throat. “I think he’s scared.”

Franky shrugged, kicking at a rock on the ground. “Whatever you say. But if you wanna play hide-and-seek with a ghost, you’re on your own. I’m going to go find Qiu.”

“Fine,” Tamarack huffed, watching as Franky turned and disappeared back into the trees. She stayed where she was, though, her gaze drifting back to the tree. For a moment, she just stood there, silent and still, and Pran wondered if she really could see him. But then she did something that made his heart drop.

She sat down.

Right there, at the base of the tree, she sat cross-legged in the damp grass, leaning her back against the trunk. She didn’t say anything, didn’t move, just sat there, looking up at the branches above her.

Pran swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. What was she doing? Was she waiting for him to come down? Did she know he was there? Should he say something? Should he climb down? Should he stay hidden?

Before he could decide, Tamarack spoke.

“I know you’re up there,” she said quietly, her voice barely louder than the rustling of the leaves. Pran's eyes widened; she had known the whole time, but was waiting for him to be ready to come down. Oh. Oh. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Pran blinked, his breath hitching. Sorry? What was she sorry for?

“I didn’t mean to scare you off last time,” she continued, her fingers picking at a blade of grass. “I just... I thought you looked sad, before. And I know what that feels like. So I wanted to talk to you. But I shouldn’t have been so pushy. I’m sorry.”

Pran stared down at her, his head spinning. No one had ever apologized to him like that before. Not Amma, not Daddy, not Naans. Not anyone. And the way she said it, like she really meant it, like she was really sorry... it made something ache deep in his chest.

“I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want,” Tamarack said after a moment, her voice quieter now. “But... I wanna be your friend. If you wanna be friends too… I’ll be here.”

Pran didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His throat felt too tight, his chest too heavy. All he could do was sit there, high up in the tree, and watch as Tamarack stood, brushing the dirt off her legs. She set off in the same direction her actual friend had gone, and he watched as she disappeared beyond the trees.

The sun was gone, and Pran started to cry again.

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