don't stop til you get enough

                                MEET MADISON FOLEY // A QUICK NAVIGATION.

who: open starter ( @thecatastrophicrpg​ )

when & where: mid afternoon - town hall

of all the things to hit them while they’re still in recovery mode…a natural disaster hadn’t made livia’s list of potential problems.

a raging storm is surprisingly easier to deal with though then kidnappings and random debilitating illnesses especially once she reaches town hall and reassures herself that her brother and fletcher are both safe and accounted for.

the council seem to be run off their feet, people trapped outside the walls and people missing that should be safely within, so liv had tracked down jesse once she’d arrived (unwilling to take direction from any of his co-leaders) and thrown herself into the task he’d directed her to - approaching the people trying to settle in town hall, taking care of their trivial needs, extra blankets, a cup of something hot…

fairvale was her home,  helping out in some small way -it was the least she could do.

she maintains a calm expression with every person she approaches, easy because despite everything she’s feeling calmer than she has in weeks anyway, and as she taps them on the shoulders or waves to get their attention she asks some variation of the same question too.

“do you need anything?”

madison had grabbed logan and ran to the town hall the second she saw the change in the sky. she had lived in georgia her whole life - tornados weren’t common, but she’d seen enough of the weather channel and survived enough hurricanes coming along the coast to know what to look out for. 

logan was, thankfully, sticking close to her side. the two of them had taken shelter along a wall, madison french braiding her sister’s hair as they sang quietly, trying to remember the songs their mother used to sing to them in her native japanesse. they never sounded quite as good as she had - their father had refused to let them take lessons, and while their mother had taught them some, it never felt like enough. 

seeing livia checking on others made her smile - of course she’d be making sure everyone was safe, was taken care of, that their nerves weren’t frayed. surprisingly, madison was strangely calm - maybe because this, at least, made sense. this was something they had been through, and survived, and while they weren’t as well equipped as they had been in the past, they would get through it. 

“we’re okay,” madison smiled, tapping the space next to her, “have you rested since this all started? sit down. stay with us for a few minutes. i’m sure everyone can handle themselves for a little while.” she hadn’t really seen livia since melissa came back - it felt like the return of her sister had pushed away those who had stepped into that role for her over the past year. “how are you holding up?” 

The knot in her chest tightened, and her throat felt too thick. With anyone else, Mel would have fled. Picked a fight to change the subject. With her sister, thought, Mel couldn’t. “Madi…” Her voice cracked, but she ignored it to knuckle a stray tear away in annoyance. A crying woman is a manipulative woman. That thought, ringing away in her father’s voice, was enough to stop her tears and warm her belly with anger. “You know, when Lock Down started - that’s when I actually headed back this way. I thought, ‘Shit, now they’ll be locked inside with him. No escape at all.’” Mel didn’t share how she was planning to sort it out. It didn’t matter anymore.

Moving mindfully, trying not to startle her sister, Mel shifted to sit on the floor, and pulled the box closer. “I do wanna know, Madi. The good and the bad. Should’ve been here to know. Just wasn’t strong enough to stop him. Wasn’t…” Mel looked up at the ceiling and swallowed hard. “…good enough to convince mom to leave him. Should’ve- ”

Guilt was strangling her again, and Mel had to stop to breathe. She was finally handed a chance to talk things out, and she was choking on every word. So, she looked inside the decorated box to buy time, handling the writings like they were made of rarest treasures. Mel had sent so many letters, herself. Did not a single goddamn one make it? Not one email or mailing address? Mel didn’t believe in concepts like Evil, but their father made a good fucking case for it.

She looked back up at Madi. “I’m so fucking sorry.” She’d let the shadow of the man keep her away for so long. She could have tried harder, returned sooner. Climbed in the window like she used to, slipped into her parents room as they slept…“There ain’t a word big enough for it.”

Madison was startled to think that that was how Melissa saw it - that she wasn’t strong enough, good enough. To Madison, her sister had been a superhero - the only one to ever make their father back down, the strongest person she’d ever known. “No, Mel, no - “ she can’t help but reach out, an instinct drawn from somewhere deep within - she wraps her arms around her sister, burrowing her face in Melissa’s shoulder as she shakes her head. 

“We never thought of you like that. Mom - mom stayed because she loved him. I can’t explain it, I can’t understand it, and dad - no one could ever stop him. The fact that you tried - “ she runs her fingers through Melissa’s hair, trying to comfort her sister. She hasn’t seen her breakdown like this in years - if ever. They never talked about it, the fear that echoed around the house, the terror that gripped all of them when the recycling was full of beer cans they all knew to be cautious of. Maybe if they had - 

“You got out,” she whispered instead, trying to get Melissa to look at her, to listen to her. “You were free, and I never wanted you to leave, but I didn’t want you to come back, either. He was - he wasn’t as bad for awhile. It wasn’t until all this started that he got worse. Without you, without me - Logan’s never known it. She has no idea. It’s why I couldn’t explain why you left. Mom and I, we kept her from it. As best as we could. Just like you kept me from it. I know that you did. And I missed you like crazy, but you were free. You were safe.” Tears well up in her own eyes, and she tries to blink them away, unsuccessful as they slip down her cheeks. “That was all I ever wanted.”

“I know. I was still out there last summer!” Sans air conditioning and all things comfortable. He used to complain about ninety degree days in Philadelphia when that grid structure didn’t work as a wind tunnel and he hadn’t made it out to the rivers to go rafting or tubing. Georgia is disgustingly hot, but it is his home now. One day he’ll get used to it. He will just learn to deal with the stickiness for a few months out of the year.

He offers her a giddy smile at the one on one time he now has with her. Melissa belongs home, he thinks, but he doesn’t want her presence to take from the relationships he’s forged. Fletch has been selfishly missing how things were before, but will constantly remind himself that everything is okay. He is not being pushed out the door. What Madison says reassures him that his place there is a permanent thing, but it’s in how it’s said that catches him off guard.

So Fletcher regards her very curiously, eyes wide and lips pressed together into a firm line. He doesn’t want to answer that in any wrong way. He doesn’t have an answer to begin with. Apparently Madison is just as surprised at what came out of her mouth.

“I… no I won’t say a word.” Fletch shakes his head, but that’s about all he moves. He’s still not sure how to respond, really. Slowly, he tries to empathize. “I think I, uh… get it, you know?” Exhaling to draw out the pause between that thought and the next Fletch then barrels on. “I loved my brothers, I loved my mother… but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like I belonged as a part of your family. I never felt like I even appreciated the idea of the word, what it could mean, until I met you and Logan. There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for either of you, but when it came to my brothers?” He shrugs guiltily.

“But I know you want her home. One of the things we talked about was her. Remember when I found you in my closet?”

Madison has never been great with words, even worse at saying what she means. The complications between her and her blood relations now are only getting deeper - she doesn’t want to hinder Logan and Melissa building a relationship, but there’s a sharp jealousy inside of her whenever she see’s the two of them interacting, a protective nature of mine, wanting to keep Logan away to keep her from being hurt should Melissa run again. 

Not that Melissa ran the first time. She knows that, but having her sister home - well, it’s just different. Harder. More complex. 

The memory brings a soft smile to her face, and she finds herself chuckling despite herself, dipping her head and her ponytail shielding her features for a moment as she shakes her head. “I did finally take them out of there,” she promises him, “as well as everything else I actually wanted from there. In fact, whatever Melissa hasn’t taken by now - it’s your space to do with what you want.” She looks up at him, wrapping a gentle hand around his wrist so he can see how serious she is about it. “I mean it.” 

Now that she knows Melissa’s alive, her worst fear isn’t finding her family dead - it’s losing any of them. Fletcher, finding a husband or a wife to settle down with, to move into his own home with. Logan, deciding she doesn’t want to live with her neurotic twenty something sister who was just barely figuring out her own life when the world came tumbling down. Even Melissa - while she may be okay with her sister finding a new home, she wants her in Fairvale. She just needs time to accommodate the idea of who her sister is now with who she remembers from her childhood. 

Mel heard Madi’s footsteps before her voice. Mel, positioned with her back to a wall and a view of every entry and exit point to the room, in a play of sitting comfortably. An old magazine was open on her lap, Mel re-reading old quizzes and enjoying a rare moment of laughing at herself. The girl she’d been, who still read teen dream magazines and circled quiz answers when she wasn’t throwing herself in the way of her father for the safety of everyone else in the house. The girl who dreamed. The little punk brat, defiant and disobedient and, apparently in denial, judging by her choice of hunky dreamboats she’d markered hearts around.

Looking up, Mel only nodded, closing the magazine and setting it to the side. The shoebox looked like it belonged on a school desk for Valentine’s Day, leaving Mel with no doubt this was going to be A Talk.

Though she had her own questions, she was okay waiting. She could bite hers back to let Madi find answers. “That’s a pretty big subject, Madi. Is there a place you’d want to start, more specifically?”

She sounded like a therapist, or a lawyer or something. Your honor, Defense requests a more specific question for the defendant. “I’m not even sure what you remember, so…”

Madison let’s out a breath - there’s so many places to start, but Melissa gives her an opening. What you remember. What did she remember about that day, really? Voices, screaming - that was a regular occurrence the older Melissa got, Madison hiding in Logan’s room, holding their toddler sister so no one could bother either one of them.  She remembered their mother crying - Amelia holding onto Madison that night with silent tears running down her face. She remembers checking the mailbox every day, her chore for years, only to find out her father had come home on lunch and already done so. 

She remembers the loneliness, the isolation, the withdrawal, the confusion. She remembers hating Melissa, and then crying for her, and then wondering what she had done wrong that would keep her sister away from her, of all people. 

“I know things were difficult,” she starts, settling down on the floor where she can feel more grounded, tugging on a loose thread of her shorts. “That you and dad - it wasn’t easy. And if it was anything like what it was like after you left,” she doesn’t look her sister in the eyes, refuses to say the words aloud - she’s never been able to speak them, never been able to tell. Melissa was the voice, Madison was the body. 

“I know you didn’t leave because you hated us. It took me a long time to figure that out, but I do know that. When you were gone - when I was trying to figure out who I was - I wrote to you. I could never send the letters, because I didn’t know where they were but.....” she takes a deep breath, brushing a loose hair from her face. “You were always the first one I wanted to tell. When I kissed Bryan Matthews in the tree house, and said it was boring. When we all went to freshman homecoming and I spent more time wanting to dance with Blake than our dates. When I realized I was - “ the word sticks to the back of her throat, still somehow hard to get out despite her parents being gone, “when I realized I loved Blake as more than a best friend, that she was the one I wanted to be with. I wrote it down, in a letter to you, the first time I acknowledged it. That I’m gay. You were the first one i wanted to tell.” 

She clears her throat, swallowing thickly to hide back the tears that already threaten her, but holds out the box for Melissa to look at. “You don’t have to read them now, or whatever. But you should have them. If you want to know what you’ve missed.” 

Madison’s note brings him to the tree house the moment he found it. The day itself didn’t have much going on otherwise, and with things feeling amiss in their home this invitation provides him a chance to see Madison one on one again. It’s strange how a couple of weeks, if it had been that long, could feel like years. But he figures that’s because for the short time he’s been there he feels like he’s known Madison for a lifetime, and that their family has always been his. Forever after.

And Fletcher doesn’t have a problem with Melissa, no. She’s headstrong and rough around the edges, everything Madison has told him. A personality that doesn’t foil with his well, and sometimes he feels the need to duck his head. It’s a weird position to be in, seamlessly slipping into that older sibling role once he’d been brought in by their father. The attempt to set Madison up had been lost on him, but he’s forever grateful he considered Fletch a prime choice in future husband material. He can’t say with confidence he would’ve built such a strong relationship with the two younger Foleys had it been someone else in Melissa’s room.

His room, he reminds himself. It’s his.

“Of course I did,” Fletch chuckles breathlessly after he pokes his head through the hatch. Her scattered supplies are collected as he climbs the rest of the way in. “It feels like a lifetime, Mads. I can’t count all the time I hovered over your bed in the clinic, and things have… I haven’t been home much.” Partly to offer space, and because he’s also such a social butterfly. Things have felt strained not just because of himself either, but Madison wore a smile and took it all in stride.

Now might be the time to talk about it if she so chooses, and if she prompts it. He has been there for her in many ways, this time he will be too. “But now we can get some time, just me and you. You and me. And your sketchbook. How do you sit up here with how hot it is?” He tugs at the collar of his shirt and feels a thin sheen of sweat already collecting underneath the fabric. “I swear, whatever colonists settled down in Georgia and thought ‘this is a great idea’ hated themselves to want to tolerate this.”

“It’s like this every summer,” she laughs, shaking her head and tightening her ponytail - “I don’t think I’d know what to do if I wasn’t sweating off 90% of my body weight.” 

She adjusted herself, sitting next to Fletcher - still allowing space between them, but closer than she might have been even six months ago. Fletch craved touch, affection, much like everyone else in her life these days. And she wanted to be able to give it - to lean and rest against them like they all did one another. To curl up on the couch and nap like she’d seen Merrick and Fletcher do on more than one occasion. Gentle touches, friendly affection. 

She was getting better at it. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” she admitted, tucking her feet under herself as she relaxed against the trunk of the tree behind them. “I feel like since Melissa’s shown up, I’ve barely gotten to spend time with you. I hope you know that it’s unintentional. You’re still very much a part of this family,” a soft sigh escapes her, the words tumbling out before she can stop them - “maybe even more than she is.” 

since her return, madison had kept their relationship superficial. it was almost like a dream, sort of, having melissa back - but like most dreams, the reality was distorted, not quite as joyous as she’d once envisioned. the melissa that returned was different than what she’d always envisioned - a little harder, a little more rough. they hadn’t discussed the decade they’d lost, but melissa had stayed as close as madison - and by proxy, logan - would allow her. 

there wasn’t a time madison couldn’t remember having walls up. maybe when she was young, but even then, she’d been quiet, observant. it was easier that way, to know who people were behind their masks, to know what she was letting in. but melissa had always been behind those walls before, and keeping her out left madison feeling unmoored. and it wasn’t going to help logan forge a relationship with her either - logan, who was tentative but open, eager to know about melissa while coming to madison’s room at night to let madison see the anger, the grief, the chaos behind her happy smiles and open eyes. the distrust at a stranger who claimed she was related to them, because logan had been 4 when melissa left. logan knew only edges of what their parents were capable of. 

as far as logan knew, melissa had disappeared without a word of her own volition. she had abandoned them, and while madison had steered her closer to the truth in recent years, she was still too young to know the whole story. 

but logan was off, the small group of teens doing god only knew what around town, and madison had pulled out a box she’d been keeping under her bed for years. letters, all unsent, outlining the pain and strife madison went through. 

the first time she’d wrote the words down - i’m gay - had been in a letter to her sister that had been buried and locked away for almost seven years. but melissa deserved to see them now, and while quiet, shy, madison had always been brave, too. she would deliver them to her face. 

she was grateful to find her in the living room - going into her parents room ( their parents room ) was still something she wasn’t entirely comfortable with - and she cleared her throat, announcing her presence. “i figured it was time we actually talk,” she said, holding the shoebox decorated in ripped up magazines that blake had helped her create in the months that followed melissa’s initial absence. “about what happened. about you coming back.” 

having melissa back at the house was...different. for one, madison felt like she had to perform, somehow. it wasn’t melissa’s fault, she knew that, but the girl madison had been at 14 had grown and changed and having her there felt a little bit like having a parent around. she had been getting comfortable, shedding some of her quiet nature and even beginning to initiate affection with those around her before her sister showed up. 

it felt like a slap in the face, really, suddenly reminded of what life had been like before a few months ago. 

not that she ever thought melissa would judge her - she was absolutely sure she wouldn’t. she was also sure that melissa wanted her to be herself, but madison, well, she was barely starting to know who herself really was. 

it also meant she’d pulled away from the others - unintentionally, but they were all busy all the time anyways, and madison did best floating in the background of their lives. so she focused on logan - the summer heat made her sister even more irritable than normal, her own emotional upheaval at having a woman twice her age around that she barely knew except from stories madison and their mother would whisper to her when she asked. to her face, logan was the perfect foley : polite, interested, masking any pain she felt. it was so unreal, so unlike her, that for a moment madison had wondered how deeply their home life had already taken it’s toll on her. 

but the truth was, logan was more like madison than she had previously thought. there was a torrent of emotions running underneath her smiles, and while it took a few weeks for it to really take hold, eventually madison felt that logan - the real logan, the outspoken and boisterous logan, was coming back out. which meant madison had to focus on her old life again. the one she’d been building. 

the one that started with fletcher. 

they hadn’t even talked about it, not really - she had assured him that melissa’s former room was his, and he was not, under any circumstances, to give it up. but madison had shut down, closed her vulnerabilities, smiled and said she was happy, of course, she was fine, nothing was wrong, why would her sister returning be anything but a joyous event? and if fletcher saw through her ( he always did ), he kept quiet, not prying, giving her her space to work things out. 

the afternoon sun was sweltering, but madison hid herself away in the tree house she’d shown him once upon a time - a sketchpad open with a face that looked almost like her own, but sharper, edges a little more severe, being drawn with a pencil. she’d left him a note telling him where she’d be, saying he could join her, and she was relieved when she heard his arrival - she had missed him, had missed them, and the smile she wore when he appeared through the trap door was probably the most genuine one she’d worn in a month. 

“you came,” she practically exclaimed, closing her sketch book and moving things around so he could get comfortable - notebooks and markers, towels to sit on to help keep from splinters, a couple snacks she’d brought with her when she’d escaped. “i know this sounds crazy, considering we live together, but i’ve missed this. you and me. i feel like it’s been forever since we’ve actually spent time together.” 

She wasn’t going to go. Fuck her parents - the only good things they’d ever done were create Madi and Logan. There was nothing to pay homage to. No sweet goodbye to pen on the side of a lantern where anyone might see it.

Though she was tempted to write a few profane messages to Kit, in case a lantern came down near the douche canoe’s turf. But how to explain if someone saw her working on it?

So, no, it wasn’t in her plans to join in the group grieve. But then, Logan (she reminds me of you, Madi had said) had actually asked her to make an appearance. Melissa wanted to ask if Logan knew why they could write to dead parents but not their living sister. But it was too soon, too raw. Likely they were embarrassed - that, or their dad had somehow managed to block her completely, be it post card, letter or email. Melissa still hadn’t given up on that suspicion. She’d prefer it over the alternative, frankly.

She was there for her sisters, even if she hesitated before closing the distance to join them.

She was holding a lantern as part of her go at playing along, but sitting next to them, she didn’t take the offered pen. “I’m still thinking, but thanks. You two go ahead.”

Madison nodded, capping the marker and continuing to doodle alongside the lantern she was working on. A drawing of Logan, with her sharp jawline and fierce eyes, decked in her former favorite outfit - a soccer uniform, complete with scrunchies she’d stolen from Madison’s room ( who had, in turn, originally stolen from Melissa’s room. ) 

It was almost a shame she wouldn’t show either of the girls next to her what she was doing. Melissa might understand it - maybe - but Logan certainly wouldn’t. 

There hadn’t been many deep conversations between them since her arrival. She’d settled into their parents room, a mass of things having been removed that Madison had spotted her debating where to put ( she wondered if she’d wanted to destroy it before she brought it to the attic, a sigh of relief escaping Madison when that was the choice made. She wasn’t as ready to say ‘goodbye’ to them as she’d have liked ). But it had been superficial - much like it had been when they were small, probably, when Melissa tumbled into Madison’s open window at night, when her sister’s smokey smell and alcohol laced breath whispered exotic stories into her ear. How much of it had been pretend, just for Madison? Her father had always called Melissa a skilled liar. 

( It took one to know one. ) 

“Have you seen anyone familiar since you’ve been back?” Madison asked, a light subject as she put her markers away, Logan’s mind far away as she decorated her lantern. “There’s only a few of us left, but I don’t know if any of them were from your time here - your grade, or whatever. All of mine have left.” Or died, but while this was certainly the time and place, Madison wasn’t about to bring it up.

Now many would question why Jimmy would bring Violet to such a gathering, be he wanted to teach her it’s okay to greave, that they needed to take time to acknowledge lives lost. He wasn’t the best at it himself but he wanted his daughter to be better then him in every way he could think of and letting people in, being venerable was one of those things.

This vigil it was a good idea, he was a fan of it even if it wasn’t the highest of priorities right now. It was bringing the town together, letting everyone see that no matter who they were they had all lost someone important to them, helped them realise they weren’t alone in what they were feeling.

Violet had been one of the first to grab at the lanterns, eager to write a message on its side. But she had been a little to eager and had torn through the thin paper. But it was okay they still had Jimmy’s. The massive man never looked so small crouched down beside his daughter “Vi gently this time, like it’s a flower…” he tried to help his daughter not brake this one.

It was the next words that left his daughter lips that caught him off guard “can this be for mommy, so she can find us?” The reality of it stung, his now ex wife was never coming back, Violet would never have a mother again. He could try and replace her with female figures like Sloane but it wouldn’t be the same, there was no returning when you turned and maybe him telling her that she was still out there would have lasting damage but she was far to young to understand. That kind of grief shouldn’t be given to a five year old.

But Violet had almost jumped the woman who had offer better pens “yes, yes, need to make it good so may mommy can find us, she out there kicking butt. I just want her home, daddy bad at reading stories.” Jimmy was quick to apologise “I’m sorry, Vi manners they cost nothing.” Jimmy was working on making sure her impoliteness was only director at him. “Please Miss can I use them?”

Madison smiled at the small girl - she often helped with the kids when the library was extra slow, participating in arts and crafts projects to help brighten the town. It wasn’t that long ago that Logan was that young, that eager, and while her younger sister pulled her eyeline over to see who the child was, she went back to writing her letter, print small and Madison was even sure she could see some japanesse their mother had taught them, but she wouldn’t pry. 

“Of course,” she said, holding out a variety of colors for the young girl to choose from. “I don’t mind sharing, and I’m sure you’ll make a beautiful lantern.” She didn’t want to feed into the idea that her mother might see it - she had a suspicion that, like so many other lanterns going up, her mother was long gone. But she was eager, and excited, and Madison offered a kind smile in both father and daughters direction. 

“You know,” she said, focusing still on Violet - she’d seen her enough around town with Jimmy, a council member she wasn’t overly familiar with but knew by face enough to name, “if you ever want someone else to read you a story, I work at the library. I’d be happy to read to you. I have some favorites I like to read from time to time. I used to read them to my little sister - “ she nods in the direction of Logan, who’s paused entirely to watch the exchange, curiosity in her face as Madison appears calmer than she normally does. So she had a soft spot for kids. Didn’t make a difference now. “But she says she’s too old for me to read to her now.” 

Her eyes met Jimmy’s as she grinned, pushing herself up to her feet - Madison was taller than most girls, but even still he towered over her. “Are you making a lantern as well? I have an extra, if you need it. I made sure to snag a couple in case someone accidentally destroyed theirs.” 

Hearing that Logan was similar to Mel - or the Melissa she’d been once upon a time - tightened the eldest sister’s chest. But, mercifully, it sounded like Logan was okay - loud without it being to shout down the old bastard. Driven and passionate for her own reasons.

Hopefully.

The smile she managed for Madi was small, but honest. “But you’re both.. okay?” Too small, far too small a word to hold everything Melissa meant. She wanted to inspect them like valuables left in the hands of incompetent watchers. Find any scuff, chip or crack and take it out on those responsible. But then, she’d have to do some digging for that. A thought Melissa found herself disturbingly comfortable with.

“Is working on cars something Logan wants to do?” Mechanics were useful, it was a good and valuable skill, but at thirteen (Christ, Logan was already thirteen) it was important to let the kid pick for herself as much as possible.

“Yes,” the answer was immediate. She’d planned on reclaiming her old room, but the idea of taking the parental space was interesting. It would send the message that she had outgrown the role of child, moved up in rank. Instead of leaving the room empty like a haunted place, with only bad memories, Melissa could claim it and give it new life.

However, she didn’t want to give the ghost of their parents that much weight, not out loud. So, she shrugged and kept it to, “Bed’s a bed.” How many people had come to town, marveling at the luxury of a bed?

Melissa grabbed her pack again, back over one shoulder. “I should put my shit away.” The fear spiking into her heart was ridiculous. Nobody was on the other side, it was just an empty room. But her muscles were tensing all the same. Fight, Flight, Freeze or Fawn? Melissa fought. Setting her jaw, she planned to rip the bandage off, but paused first.

“Madi?” It took doing to get her eyes off that door, but she did it, looking up at her sister with a real smile, throat tight with a cocktail of feelings. “Thanks for letting me back in.” More tiny words for a planet of meanings.

“She’s thirteen. She wants to kick a soccer ball around and kiss boys and complain about me keeping her locked in the house too much. But she used to sit out with us when we’d work on cars when I started learning to drive. So I think it’ll be something familiar for her.

There was a tension there, whether Melissa felt it or not. Melissa had done so much for her - for Madison, for their mother, for Logan even. But she’d left, and while their father may have played the main role in that, it had been almost a decade. Madison had gone to college. The internet had developed. And Melissa - not once had she reached out. 

She thought she’d feel nothing but joy and jubilation at her sister’s return. Instead, her insides are conflicted, warring between grateful that she’s alive, bitter that it took so long, and confusion about what this means for their family. For her and Logan and Fletcher. 

Her teeth bit into her lower lip as she nodded, giving Melissa space to go put her things down and away. To find her space in the place that had been her home for most of her life. She can’t help but want to climb the stairs herself, to crawl into her own bed and contemplate what to do. But she can’t - not yet, anyways. She has to find Logan, to reintroduce them like strangers. Find Fletcher, and let him know - tell him he will not give up his room. His space. Melissa can take what she wants from the room that was hers, but Madison will not let her claim something that’s been bestowed to someone else now. 

Her sister’s words stop her brain briefly, her eyes looking up to meet similar ones she’d grown up idolizing. “Thanks for coming back.” That, she knows, she means. Whatever unfolds between them now - there’s a piece of her that can rest easy. 

Melissa was alive. Melissa had returned. No matter what, Melissa was home. 

grief was a funny thing. 

sometimes it snuck up on you - like when she was tending to the garden her mother had spent the past three decades cultivating, and she found a particular flower her mother had been so interested in showing off, teaching madison about it’s particular uses. or when she pulled her father’s favorite mug out of the cabinet - the impulse to smash it warring with the desire to weep, because he was a terrible man but he was still her father. 

the vigil seemed like a nice gesture. there had been one, after the original insurrection, but madison hadn’t made it to that one. she’d been shell shocked, really, keeping herself and logan at home as they closed the door to their parents room and slowly put away some of the evidence of their existence around the house. 

but that was months ago now, and when logan had requested that they attend - spurred on by the resurgence of their oldest sister, she was sure - madison had kissed the top of her head, assuring her that of course they could go.

madison sat on the grass, logan writing a goodbye note to their parents on the side of a lantern. she was getting more comfortable talking about them, asking madison about things, but there was still so much she didn’t know. couldn’t understand. 

madison hadn’t when she was her age. 

but she watched her younger sister quietly, took in the turn of her lips that resembled her own frown, the concentration on her face the spitting image of their mother when she was focused on a difficult recipe for a pot luck. the way their whole family blended into one another, the way logan would never know so much. 

madison’s own lantern was for her sister. for the one who’d never get a chance at normal. who’d never get to join the soccer team and make it to nationals like they’d been planning since her pee-wee league in elementary school. who’d never get to dive into college brochures, seeing where in the world she wanted to go. who’d never know why their fathers death was bittersweet, a reminder that sometimes justice worked it’s way in unfamiliar ways. 

a familiar face appeared on the horizon as madison signed the side of her lantern, her loopy scrawl vibrant with the purple sharpies she’d found for her and logan. she smiled up at them - an odd expression, perhaps, considering the grief surrounding them, but this felt like as good a close to a chapter as anything. “need a pen to decorate?” she offered, holding out the few sharpies she’d brought with her. “i’ve got better colors than they do at the table they set up.” 

“Isn’t that what we all wanted to do at 13? Maybe worry about if someone cute liked us or not, It’s a lot to ask of her. But their teenage years will be different from ours unfortunately.” They would have to grow up faster, but at least they wouldn’t be comparing the world to what was.

“I understand that type of leaner, I was very much that way. Wanted to fuck off school, and do more with my hands and not my head. Can’t imagine schools much to go by these days, and really they should be leaning jobs and not text books, not going to help them much vs the undead.”  

“It defiantly takes a certain personality type to deal with these knuckle heads, so bring her, we can have a chat see what she thinks.” but then Logan would have Yami putting all the men in place so she wasn’t overly worried. 

“I get it, a little,” Madison shrugged. “We want them to have something akin to normalcy.” At least there weren’t standardized tests, or giant essays due constantly. They learned math because it was problem solving. They learned english because it was about looking under the surface. Science was necessary for so many things - some of them would have to be doctors as they grew, some would have to become engineers, helping navigate the apocalypse. “Besides, they’re mostly too young to do any of the big lifting. I’d rather them be in the classroom pouring over text books and developing their brains than out on runs or recruiting new people for us.” 

The idea of Logan leaving the walls of Fairvale gripped her with a very real terror, kept her up at night. One day she might want to do just that - and how was Madison supposed to deny her, when she’d been ripped away from learning about the world before she could even appreciate it? 

A smile broke out on her face upon hearing Yami’s agreement; Logan would have the final say, of course, but it was a plan, a step for her - a step she was sure her younger sister would like. “Really? That’s incredible, thank you.” A sigh of relief slipped out, her hands resting on her stomach as she visibly deflated from stress that coursed through her veins. “You’re one of the few I’d trust to guide her properly, so I really appreciate this. You’re incredible.” 

logan doesn’t miss the way her train of thought stutters to a stop after the mention of colette, and intuitively he knows that there must be more to that story that she’s not saying, but it’s not like he has any right to pry into her personal business. although he has to admit, he’s at least a little intrigued by whatever might have happened between a sweet girl like madison and the prickly younger jacobson sister, but he also wouldn’t put it past colette to gut him if he crossed any lines she didn’t want crossed. 

so he sets his curiosity aside, and doesn’t interrupt her ramble to ask for any details she’s not willing to give. there’s something about madison that reminds him of holly, and he finds that he’s not surprised at all to learn that she has a younger sister—or that she spends most of her time at the library. “that’s a lot of words from someone who’s not very social,” he teases lightly. “but hey, if you’re not against the idea of having another friend, i can be social enough for the both of us too. or we can be antisocial together.”

he takes another sip of the godawful beer just to have something to do with his hands, and to let her consider his invitation. she has no reason to open up to him, but no one really goes to a bar unless they have something on their minds—logan included—and he finds that it’s easier to confide in strangers sometimes.

“i had a younger sister,” he starts. it’s a simple statement, but his use of the past tense reveals a wound that has yet to heal. logan knows he can talk to holly or merrick—not ethan, even though he’s the one who understands better than anyone else what he’s going through, because these are wounds that neither of them need reopened—share the grief of his loss with the people who knew and loved lori too, but everyone’s already trying their best to keep their hopes and spirits up, and logan doesn’t want to add on to the hurt they have to suffer.

madison hears the words left unsaid - a lot of people had siblings, past tense, no longer relevant to the world around them. she wonders how if felt, having that finality - that closure. she supposes she has it with her parents, but there’s that tangling detail of melissa, still out there somewhere - or not - that keeps her up at night. 

“do you want to tell me about her?” madison offers; the words surprise even herself - logan was the kind of guy she would have dated a few times in high school to ( ironically ) experiment with and see if she could finally ‘set herself right’ like her father had clearly wanted. none of them had ever really divulged intimacies of their lives, and madison had never really asked about it. in fact, before fletcher, she could count the number of men whom she trusted enough to count as close on one hand - but there’s something about him that feels trustworthy. maybe it’s the fact that the wood sisters both entrusted their hearts with him, or the pain that’s practically radiating off of him - either way, she finds herself meaning the words much more than she normally would.. 

“you don’t have to, but if you want to, i’m a good listener. i had an older sister, once upon a time. she’s not - not that i know of, at least. she left home almost a decade ago. i have no idea where she is, or how she is. having someone that close to you just....leave, it’s not easy. ever.” 

🧨

She listened, letting her sister speak without interruption. At the end, Mel glanced at a wristwatch that didn’t exist. “Maybe two hours?”

Taking Madi up on the offer, but raising an eyebrow at someone - a he someone - being in her room, Mel stepped over the threshold. “I feel like I should still be coming in through my window.” Not this Fletcher person’s window. Melissa’s window. Was, is, and would be again.

Didn’t take long to scan the room, taking in the changes. Of course all evidence of Mel’s existence was gone. Fucker. She was so mad he’d died before she could get hands on him. How dare he just die and escape her vengeance?

Her nails were biting into her palms, and Melissa had to relax her hands intentionally. She didn’t know how to explain that she knew about their parents. Kit had teased the information out, details sprinkled out in exchange for errands and good behavior. Just another prick in a long line of them. She wasn’t exactly eager to share that she’d been stuck with him for as long as he’d obliged her to stay. That it had taken so long to slip away. That Kit was still alive after his behavior.

Pivoting on one foot, the rucksack was slipped from her shoulder, but didn’t get set too far away. “You got taller.” Did Madison hug anymore? Would Melissa even want a hug? “I, uh, heard that mom and dad are gone.” Would that fly - there still had to be a grapevine in this dump, right? “How’s Logan?”

“Taller,” Madison replied with a small smile. There was no telling how Logan would take this news - she’d adapted pretty well to having strangers live with them, but Melissa was different. A stranger who looked like them, who shared history with them. When Logan was a baby, Melissa got stuck babysitting both her and Madison. Not that she’d remember any of that - there had been a strict rule to not discuss Melissa when their father was around, and while Madison had shared stories, she hadn’t been around much before the past year either. 

“She reminds me a lot of you, actually,” Madison finally admitted, crossing her arm over her chest, digging her nails into her elbow as she bounced slightly on the tip of her toes. “She’s got the same spitfire attitude you always had. All passion and drive and no quiet.” 

Madison didn’t know if her silence was adapted from her environment or a product of their mother - Amelia had been a stranger in a foreign land, taken from her family when their father decided to make her his. Half the time, Madison felt like she could understand - nothing ever felt familiar, even when every piece of her life was on display within walking distance. But their father - their preacher father, who screamed of fire and brimstone every Sunday, he had the kind of energetic extroverted personality both his other daughters inherited. Not that Melissa probably wanted to hear that. 

“They have a sort of school system here,” Madison continued - it was easier to talk about Logan than anything else, “so she does school a few days a week and I’m thinking about having her learn maintenance with one of the girls who works on cars out there. I don’t want her running, and inventory would bore her - plus, she’s 13 now. She’ll want her space away from me.” 

The entire situation felt surreal to her, but what struck her suddenly was that there was no relinquishment of her responsibilities. While it may not have been Melissa’s fault she’d been gone, she couldn’t pass the baton to her older sister - Logan was still hers, hers and Fletchers to raise and grow. It was a possessive feeling she didn’t quite know what to do with, so she buried it tight, much like everything else, brushing hair from her eyes as she tried to see their home from Melissa’s eyeline. 

“Are you gonna stay here? I mean, we still have their room open. I haven’t really been in it, since it happened, or I could help make up the couch or something. My bed isn’t exactly big enough for the both of us anymore.” 

it takes a second for logan to place a name to the face before him, but his expression softens unknowingly when it finally registers. maybe it’s the small town boy in him, but it’s hard not to think of a friend of a friend as a friend of his own too, and even though he doesn’t really know madison that well, he’s already instinctively expanded his tiny circle of friends to include her.

“the downfall of capitalism is one of the few good things to come out of the apocalypse,” he says in response to her comment. “almost makes up for the lack of wifi.”

is he settling into town okay? that’s a good question. “well enough, i guess,” he answers, “i know my way around now, but i could probably get out and meet more people.” the admission is accompanied by a dry laugh, logan all too aware of just how antisocial he’d been since he’d arrived in town. “i know you though,” he says, tipping his beer towards her, “you’re madison. holly says you used to be over at theirs all the time, but you haven’t been around much lately. i hope it’s not because ethan and i are there—i can totally make myself scarce, if need be.”

madison can feel the faint blush on her cheeks - she knew the older wood sister, though not as well as merrick and colette - and was surprised holly had even noticed her absence. they’d been quarantined together, both worried about their younger sister’s outside the clinic doors, but both seemed too quiet to really strike up a friendship. 

( though, according to merrick, they probably had a lot in common. ) 

“no, of course not,” madison assures him - honestly, the addition of two new people in town hardly registered, and only gave madison more insight to who the new people in her life were. seeing merrick doting on the other - ethan, she supposed - had shown her a softer side that no one had seen in fairvale, as much as madison was concerned. “i know merrick’s been busy taking care of your other friend, and colette and i - “ 

colette and her kissed, but they hadn’t spoken of it yet. they probably wouldn’t, either - which was fine by madison. it was a one time incident, something to never be repeated, and the space had only been to help her move on. ( if only it was working. ) 

“we’ve both been busy. i have a younger sister myself - she’s 13, and kind of a handful. plus i work at the library most days, and have a pretty full house myself. i’m from here, originally - when it was prescott - so my home has kind of become a home for others. that’s just usually where i am. i’m not a very social person in general - that’s why i hang out with girls like colette and merrick. i let them take the spotlight for me.” 

Crushes, they were a thing, something she hadn’t given much thought into. Who had time for such things when she was always working. The illness had been the first time she hadn’t been working in over five months, it had left her alone with her own mind… which was never a good thing.

“No I didn’t know that. Handful how so? Because at 13 even I was described as a handful. “ in that endearing way family members did. Yami nodding her head as Maddison went on, she could understood the worry if Logan became a runner, and to be part of the clinic you had to do years of training and reading, it wasn’t for everyone… “If you think she would be good, we can give it a try.” 

Grabbing a rag so she could wipe down her hands as Maddison explained her thought process. Yami mulled it over in her mind, it wasn’t something to accept lightly, not that she minded teaching, she actually enjoyed it and it would give her a piece of mind to that someone she taught was able to help others like she had. “If this is what she wants, then I’d be willing. I understand a caring older sister but Logan will have to want this herself, which I know is a lot to ask from a 13 year old, but teaching only sticks if you want to lean.” 

“Right now, all she wants is to listen to music and go to the mall,” Madison laughed, a hollow sound that made her feel bitter. Her sister would never get to have that normal life - the life Madison had had for years, of painting her nails and gossiping about boys ( it was easier to pretend, then ) and eating junk food before running it all off at cheer practice. 

It broke her heart, really, to know that Logan was going to lose out on so much. 

“She’s pretty independent,” Madison said as an explanation, to help Yami understand where she’s coming from. “And she likes learning - not necessarily in a school setting, but considering what ‘school’ is for them now, I don’t blame her. But she’s a hands on kinda girl - she used to be really into building model cars and boats and stuff with my dad when she was little. And she likes the outdoors. And, mostly, I think she’d like an excuse to be out of the house and away from me hovering over her all the time.” 

What else was Madison supposed to do, though? It was just the two of them - she had to protect Logan, and if the recent near death experience had taught her anything, it was that they were all only one wrong move away from being destroyed.