i'd live and die for moments that we stole

-

The mention of Rachel’s dedication made Nina’s heart flutter and skip a beat or two, she was sure of it. You were there. The words echoed in her mind as she tried to picture Rachel Flynn, almost a decade from now.

It was those two words, as simple as they were that shattered Nina’s resolve, causing her steely facade to crumble right in front of Rachel’s very eyes. “I can’t believe it,” she admitted, choking on her words as tears filled her eyes and overwhelming joy pulled her lips into a smile, despite her struggle to maintain composure. “God, thank God, I can’t believe it, Rach,” she uttered impulsively. She’d never been much for the church, she didn’t even know if she believed in God but the knowledge that despite their hardship, despite all of the specialists assuring them their situation was hopeless, Nina’s mother had survived, she’d thrived even. She pressed her hand against her chest, as if it was the only thing keeping her heart from leaping out of place. She sniffled through tears then, a laugh passing her lips without restraint as she silently scolded herself for getting so bloody emotional so bloody quickly when she’d been so put together for a good ten minutes or so. 

“What does it mean for us now then?” she asked, almost desperately. “I don’t understand it,” she confessed though she was certain that much was plainly obvious to Rachel. “Does it happen again, just the same way or will it be different now that we know what’s coming? I don’t know,” she didn’t know, couldn’t know and she couldn’t expect Rachel to know either but it didn’t stop her from asking the question.

.

A tiny laugh escapes from Rachel’s pursed lips at Nina’s joy, and even though this conversation has been incredibly difficult and painful, there’s still something beautiful about this moment. Nina looks so relieved, so grateful, and it warms her right through. “I know,” she breathes out, a smile tugging at her own lips. Nina’s mother deserved her second chance at life, even if her daughter hadn’t been there to live it with her, although Rachel is determined that this time they’ll both be okay. They’ll be able to spend more time together, without having the constant fear and presumption of grief darkening happier moments. 

The redhead’s attention is once more completely focused on the woman in front of her. Her eyebrows are pulled together slightly, lips pursed, gaze shifting across her girlfriend’s face as if she’s trying to memorize her features. “It’s going to be different, Nina. Things are already changing, people have changed. It makes no logical sense for it to happen the same way again, and even if    I won’t let it happen. I’ll keep you safe this time.” She reaches up, her thumb brushing against Nina’s cheek before she leans in, hoping that Nina can feel her resolve in the kiss.

x

“i don’t remember signing anything so you better keep up with the rent,” an easy quip. why was it that despite all the water under the bridge that he felt he could carry on as normal with rachel? there were so many things that went unsaid and yet he maintained his closeness with her and even nina now. in comparison to how he felt when speaking with george and even august when they got down to the bare bones of things… talking with rachel had always been easier. when she had no eyes, he had become the one that sat at her bedside describing the world in his own tainted way. he had over-exaggerated every detail, held her hand as if it were the last solid thing on earth and promised her a million times that the open gaping wound that was left behind by their friends would one day close… never realising he would be the next one. 

it didn’t bring him back to that place being sat there, his fingertips against the sheets that he still recognised. he was in the past but he had never really seen the future… he thought of times spent brushing that red hair, the detail that he had put into winged eyeliner that rachel would of hated had she ever seen it. they had laughed until they cried and cried until they laughed but she had never really seen him at his worst… maybe in more ways than one, she had been completely blind to the truth about him. he had played his part in keeping her in the dark… there was nothing how he changed but now he wondered if it had been cruel being a shoulder to lean on knowing that one day you would no longer be there. he loved her with his whole heart, his passion for their friendship existing until his very last day on earth… all the same, he was destined to leave her behind. maybe that was why it was so important to save nina. to save rachel from the pain. to give her something back for all the cards that had been handed to her in her previous life.

he looks at her messy head, a fondness and a sadness all at once as she sits up, a fierce girl who never gave up. someone mx had never been like. he sits on the bed and places one hand over her knee over the covers for a brief moment, a glimpse into the future all too real, “i’m guessing you’re about to unload some conspiracy theory fit for my conspiracy theory wall… i migh thave to start cutting clips again and start over,” he suggests, vague memories of many of his obsessions culminating over time, “hit me with it… not too hard, though. not sure my fragile body can take too much shock.”

.

Mx’s hand is on her knee, and although her skin isn’t brushing his, the warmth softens her nonetheless. Rachel had never been a physical person, only with a select few people. Her mother, Nina, Cyrelle, Mx, sometimes Jesse, were really the only people that she ever let close enough physically and emotionally for any kind of intimacy. So when Nina had died, and Cyrelle had begun pulling away from her, often times it was just her and Mx. He’d been there to offer a steadying arm when she was still learning how to use her cane properly in public, in the days before Mac. He’d braided her hair back from her face, not because she couldn’t, but because most days she didn’t have the energy to put effort into something that just didn’t feel like it mattered anymore. But Mx put the energy in, made an effort to keep things as close to before as he could, and it was small acts of service like that which helped her adjust. And then just like that, he was gone, and this time there was no one left to help her adjust. 

The softness that had crept onto her face melts away at his comment, as she is pulled back into a reality that doesn’t allow for impromptu naps and minutes spent reflecting on a future she refuses to have again. She wouldn’t lose Nina this time. She wouldn’t lose the man sitting beside her, either, even if his death may not have been caused by David. “It hardly feels like a conspiracy theory considering his own sister is the one who told me she’s sure that he’s responsible.” Her tone is still bitter when it comes to Lillian, and logically she knows that the other woman doesn’t entirely deserve the bitterness, but it’s there nonetheless. 

“Although, her primary evidence is that he’s set fires before,” she trails off, because it’s not concrete enough to be proof, but still fits with her own suspicions nonetheless. “I’m talking about David Walker. Lillian seems to believe that he’s responsible. He set the barn on fire, I guess that’s why his parents sent him away. I haven’t gotten a chance to speak to Andy or Zeki about the garage fire, but I’m willing to bet that he wasn’t necessarily the innocent victim that we all thought he was.”

@rachelbflynn·

rachel’s ominous message played on his mind but he hadn’t quite made it to her house the same day, the threat of doom looming. knowing who was behind the fire was almost worse than trying to prevent some freak accident. weren’t the actions of others the same type of chain of events… a different kind of unpreventable natural disaster? he’d seen this movie too many times before to jump to the conclusion it was simple to get a happy ending. would it ever be a happy ending for him anyway?

the door was unlocked for him, an ever welcoming feeling like a doormat with a goofy cartoon. there was one thing he knew for sure and that was that rachel’s home had always been his too, the women that lived in that humble abode always had time for mx… to the very end. “helllllllloooo? am i trespassing?”

.

Rachel had never had a set sleeping schedule. With the way that her mind worked, constantly puzzling through something or focused on a new curiosity, sleep came when it came. Whether that be two or three hours between school and work after a sleepless night, or fourteen hours straight on her day off. After breaking the news to her (surprisingly well adjusted and incredibly empathetic) girlfriend that she had, in fact, died in an alternate timeline, getting her mind to quiet down enough for sleep had been particularly difficult. Which was why she had crashed not in her small but comfortable bed, but instead on the well-loved couch within the living room of the Flynn’s flat. And because it was Darkwood and things were (supposedly) safe, and she hadn’t exactly planned to fall asleep, the door was unlocked.

It isn’t the door opening that wakes her up, but the familiar voice. She’s had dreams like this before, Mx’s head peeking through her doorway, a little grin on his lips. So many of the dreams she’d had after losing the people she loved were the small moments, things that had once been so standard but were suddenly out of reach. Groggy, it takes her a moment to realize that it isn’t a dream, and as she yawns and adjusts, she waves for him to come sit with her.  She won’t outright admit it, but she wants him close, wants to treasure having this once again. “No, didn’t you know? You’re on the lease,” she jokes, looking the picture of someone who has woken up from a deep sleep.

"No. Nina said it herself, if you know, you can do what you can leading up to it." Although Rachel refuses to believe that they're once more being led towards a fire that will take Nina away again. "I respect her opinion, and I think that it was the right thing to do. It hurt like hell, and I didn't want to hear it from Mx at first, but he was right. She deserves to know."

"One way or another, I know that I can. I'm not going through all of this again just to lose people a second time." Even Rachel's not entirely sure what she means by it, although the words are honest. She survived losing Nina and Mx once, but having a second chance just for things to play out the same way? Rachel doesn't think she's strong enough to go through that kind of loss a second time.

"I'm going to go ahead and assume that you're referring to people in Darkwood, and not the world as a whole," she begins, an eyebrow raised. "Of course there is. I admire a lot of people for different things. I admire my mum for her patience. I admire Nina for her ability to make people feel welcome and genuinely cared for. I admire Cyrelle's cleverness, Mx's creativity, Jesse's resilience. There's a lot of people in my life worthy of admiration."

"Cyrelle's gorgeous, and she's incredibly intelligent, determined, and fiercely loyal, but we've grown up together." There's enough pictures of the two of them throughout the years, knees scratched up and elbows covered in bruises, to fill a good five photo albums if either of their mothers were the type to do scrapbook. "She's the closest thing I have to a sister, so I wouldn't say that I'm attracted to her. Maybe it'd be more accurate to say I gravitate towards her," she smirks, amused at her space pun.

"Sure. I mean, I think that there's a lot that would automatically change in my life if things go the way that I plan for them to." Rachel hadn't always been as withdrawn, as rigid in her ways. There had been a time when she'd planned for more than just things relating to books and classrooms, places she had wanted to visit and things that she had wanted to experience. "I want to do more. Experience things I either couldn't or just didn't feel up for experiencing before. I guess that's one of things that I would change. I'd like to be more open to what's outside my comfort zone."

…

“Artificial cherry is definitely a whole different story. Whoever came up with fruit flavors and said ‘yeah, this tastes accurate’ must have had some messed up taste buds.” She smiled at Rachel; she’d been too absorbed with herself and her own relationship when she was younger to even pay attention to Rachel and Nina, but she could see now, how much the two of them loved each other. They were just meant to be. “I guess if that’s the only complaint,” Fawna agreed, pretending to be reluctant. “Don’t get me wrong, I think I’ve threatened my fiancé’s life a few times too many for leaving his socks in the living room floor, but it could’ve been worse.”

.

“Honestly. Artificial grape flavouring is somehow even worse, which I didn’t think was actually possible, and yet,” she trails off, lips turned down slightly in distaste. The redhead lets out a snort at Fawna’s comment, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t know, socks in the middle of a common area is pretty bad. Sounds like your fiancé’s on thin ice.” It isn’t often that Rachel’s been on the other side of the lost love conversation, although she supposes that it’s a bit different. Fawna’s fiancé isn’t dead, he hasn’t gone anywhere, he just doesn’t know that she exists because they haven’t met yet. But for Fawna, there’s years worth of memories and feelings still fresh in her mind. She takes a moment to hope that for all the things that will change (for the better, they have to be for the better), those two and their relationship can stay mostly the same.

-

Nina nodded her head in understanding. It was a situation beyond basic comprehension but at the very least, she could understand wanting to break bad news to two different people at the same time, lest they have to deal with feeling like the last to know on top of everything else. “Course I don’t,” she encouraged warmly. There were few occasions on God’s green earth why Nina Heilig wouldn’t want Rachel Flynn’s company and this was certainly not one of them. Not only did she want Rachel to stay, she was more or less convinced she needed her to. 

A soft gasp left Nina’s lips, her breath stripped from her lungs as she imagined a world where Rachel had suffered so, so much. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair and it made her heart ache. ‘My God, Rach, I can’t imagine it,” she confessed empathetically. She’d seen her mother through quality of life adjustments, through rehabilitative processes but she couldn’t imagine Rachel doing the same and worse, she couldn’t imagine Rachel doing the same without her. As Rachel continued, Nina’s grief subsided and a small smile pulled the corner of her lips as she gazed at the other girl in pure admiration. “Can’t say I’m surprised by that, I can’t,” she assured the other girl, “Anyone would be lucky to take even a small bit of credit for the things your mind comes up with,” academics existed in a world beyond Nina’s capabilities but that didn’t mean she couldn’t understand the value in Rachel’s work.

She chuckled at the image of Rachel, Mac and her Mum all together, probably with a cuppa sat in front of each of them, her Mum sneaking biscuits to the dog because she just couldn’t resist a cute face and never had. If they’d had more time and energy to look after a puppy between them, Nina was sure the Heilig’s would have a dog of their own. Then it struck her. Seven years. Seven years and Rachel was still visiting her mother. How? “My Mum?” she pointed to herself as if she’d misheard Rachel the first time. 

.

At Nina’s reassurance, the anxiety that had been bubbling up within her fades slightly. Although the only indicator was perhaps her posture, maybe a slight crease in her forehead, Nina’s warm tone is as effective as hot water poured over ice. There was just something about Nina Heilig that always had the ability to soften the sometimes cold redhead. 

Nothing had prepared Rachel for what had waited for her upon waking up after the fire. No amount of studying or planning could fix what had happened, neither the physical damage or the horrific losses of two of the best people that Darkwood had to offer. And although she had come a long way, been guided by truly wonderful people, nearly everything about her life had changed in just a few minutes time. Still, Nina’s praise causes her lips to tilt up in a smile. “You were in my dedication. It wasn’t finished, but you were there,” she finds herself saying before really planning to, a soft look on her face as she takes a moment to study the woman in front of her. The way her face lights up when’s impressed, how she’s able to be so open and loving despite it all. 

Rachel watches the realization hit Nina, and she nods firmly. “Your Mum.” The woman that Nina had spent years taking care of, a lifetime loving so much, and who despite a supposed terminal illness had outlived her only child. “A few months after the fire, she started getting better. I can’t remember if it was a new treatment, or some sort of experimental medication, but at least in my 2021, your mum was doing really well. Missing you, always, but alive and healthy.” The words bring to mind years worth of visits, the two of them sitting across from each other and catching up. A visit never passed where they didn’t talk about her, where they didn’t reflect on how much they missed Nina and what had made them love her when she was still with them. And Rachel still can’t get over how unfair it was, for Nina’s mother to have gotten better, but to have lost her daughter before the two of them could enjoy the extra time. All she can do is hope that this time it is different, and do everything in her power to make it happen.

Zeki felt like he was just watching the events of Darkwood come and go. Easter rolled around and then rolled right back away in the blink of an eye. All he could ever think about was what was yet to come while everything passed by so quickly. Too quickly. The more normal Darkwood events that happened, they were accompanied by things he didn’t remember happening the first time, and closer they came to the fires. He watched as the flea market was packed up and taken out of town, a coffee in his hand. A familiar face appeared in front of his eyes, seemingly watching the same thing. “Hey. Get anything good before they shut down?”

.

Rachel loved old things. Big things, little things, valuable and practically useless things alike. She had been enchanted with anything that felt as if it told a story of something she was too young to experience since she had been tiny, and that enchantment had taken her far. So while in another time she was only a step or two away from receiving a PhD in history, currently, she was clutching three old records and a rather tired looking candlestick telephone in her arms. Her gaze shifts as she hears someone speak, and her lips tilt up slightly. “I’d say so” Would her mother agree? Would any of the items that she had just purchased even work when she brought them home? Only time would tell. “Did you decide to skip out on the market this year?”

-

“It’s no surprise, is it?” she assured the other girl, a delicate smile gently tugging at her lips as she balanced pride and affection with grief and devastation. It was a tricky lot of emotions to juggle all at once, leaving Nina with an odd, sick feeling in her stomach that she couldn’t quite describe, even if she had wanted to. 

She digested the words, nodding thoughtfully with her eyes slightly glassy, her mind evidently occupied for the time being. “You both decided it then, for tonight?” she reasoned, connecting the dots between Rachel’s sudden admission and the fact that MX had sought to do the same with George Carmichael that very evening. “No don’t go, please don’t,” she insisted, her fingertips pressing lightly into the flesh of Rachel’s thigh, as if she had been about to speed away, with or without Nina’s encouragement. She remained silent after that, taking a deep breath in as her thoughts ran away, consuming her mind like the fire that had engulfed the bakery. Then she found herself grounded in the moment, the weight of her own body against the cushioned fabric of the couch, the tickle of shifting air against her arms since she’d chucked her jumper off, the warmth of Rachel’s skin. “Tell me about it,” she requested, though she left little room for denial in her tone, “I want to hear about everything you did- everything you’ve done,” she explained though she didn’t know quite how to word it.

.

“Yes. We didn’t want one of you to know before the other, given how,” she trails off, the words not coming. There didn’t appear to be a right way to say given how closely tied your deaths were. Any unease at her inability to continue the sentence disappears as Nina’s fingertips press into her thigh. She’s quick to place her own hand over the other woman’s, to squeeze it in an attempt to provide whatever comfort she can. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to,” the redhead reassures, and she means it. Her mother won’t be home until tomorrow evening, and if sitting on this couch together and talking will make Nina feel even the slightest bit better, then that’s exactly what they’ll do.

There is no way to answer Nina’s question truthfully without telling her more about the fire, and although the words are difficult to get out, she doesn’t hold onto them for long. “I lost my sight in the fire,” she explains, gaze shifting to the television that’s muted in front of them, lips pursed. “It took me two years to even start to get adjusted, to figure out how to navigate everything when so much had changed.” There were the physical adjustments, of course, but a great deal of that time had also been spent coping with her grief and the reality that Nina was really gone somewhere that she couldn’t follow. “And then I just tried to do what we’d talked about. I found a PhD studentship that I was passionate about, a supervisor who ensured there was proper funding for the assistive tech I’d need. I was supposed to be arguing my thesis soon.” Rachel doesn’t mention finding Mx on his apartment floor, the subsequent breakdown; the fact that she hardly ever made it to a second date when she finally tried dating again three and a half years after the fire. Instead, she tries to think of something that will bring Nina a bit of joy. “I got a service dog, named him Mac. Whenever I came back to Darkwood, we’d go and visit your Mum. She loves him.” Her use of present tense is intentional, and her blue eyes shift to Nina, waiting to see if or when the realization will hit her. 

CYRELLE: bold of you to assume that i'm able to distinguish him from any of the other boys in that group. they're all just a bunch of bad haircuts in my eyes.

CYRELLE: i'll just leave it at chance's doorstep and run. not unlike how mothers leave unwanted children at fire stations.

CYRELLE: unless you want to take him in, and save me the trouble of littering.

RACHEL: Arguably the worst place for a child in Darkwood, and yet...

CYRELLE: one direction boy available, free to a good home.

CYRELLE: or any home. just get it out of mine.

RACHEL: I mean, he is my favorite out of them. Or will be eventually, because even I can admit that Falling brings out strong emotions.

mx: now you're just talking riddles