#adiel walker

“Zebediah told me who you are.”

Rae wanted to look at humanity’s inventions, staring at their iPads and iPhones and iEverythings. She wanted to taste their sweet bread and their garlic bread; she wanted to drown herself in fish and chips, tasting the ink from the newspaper and the beer in the batter. For just a moment, Rae wanted to feel a little less holy and a little more human, and to surround herself in the chaos and the inner-city beauty that was London was the only way she could.

Walking through the streets, pale blue eyes on the windows so that she could see the warm jumpers and the lovely dresses in the shops’ windows, she paused when she saw a young lady with hair as black as Hell’s pit practically fly towards the nearest window. Pale, slim hands pressed against the glass, and a similarly pale, slim face leaned close, nose practically mashed against the window. She wore a grey coat, boots that went up to her knees and seemed a size too big, thick, black leggings and a white dress that was short but oddly sweet and modest on her.

Rae watched, unmindful of the people swarming around her; a rock in a stream with salmon fighting against the tide.

“Ellie, slow down, girl! We can’t lose ya in this crowd, ya hear me? You’ll be lost forever.”

“I would not be!” the girl cried back to the voice that called to her, turning to look at whoever was talking. She had a sweet face, if a bit on the thin side, with wide, doe-brown eyes and a smile that practically lit up London’s grey streets. “‘Sides, I survived New York City! London’s basically a compact NYC, right?”

“I’m surprise you survived that city, Ellie-belly,” a man said, emerging from the crowd and stopping beside the girl. He reached forward, dragging her away from the window and patting her shoulder. Rae could see hazel-green eyes looking her over to make sure she was alright. They did not look much alike, but Rae could see the resemblance all the same; feel the familial connection in their souls. Cousins, most likely; her mother and his father. Her father was a mystery to her; some dark, foreign man that had promised her mother the world and then vanished.

Rae grimaced as she saw who it was, and knew what had happened. 

“I take offence to that, Zebediah,” Ellie said, turning up her nose and pouting. Zebediah grinned, ruffling her hair. A pale hand touched his arm, then, and he turned to see who it was. Rae did as well, and felt a gasp claw its way out of her throat.

It was her lost brother, but it wasn’t – for this man was content, and peaceful, and happy. He had her brother’s broad forehead and his deep set eyes; he had his dark hair and his pale complexion. Where her brother had blue eyes, though, this man’s eyes were gray, and his hands shook like trembling leaves on thin wrists. He hooked his arm through Zebediah’s, leaning against his side and molding to him almost perfectly, his chin resting on the younger man’s shoulder. He looked older, and gentler, and wiser than her brother.

The sight of him made her heart ache, and she longed to go to him. So she did.

“Excuse me,” she spoke up once she was near them. She stifled a sob when the man’s grey eyes turned to her, and she smiled at them vaguely, trying to think of a reason to approach them. She read their minds for just a moment, and felt dirty for doing so. “I couldn’t help but notice you seemed a bit lost…?”

“O-oh,” the man spoke, and his voice was gentle and stuttered and she wanted to cry, “w-well, not really, m-miss. We were j-j-just l-looking for the s-station for the nearest u-underground.”

“Well, you’re nowhere near it,” Rae said with a small smile, rolling her shoulders and feeling her wings shift and scream in her agitation. The man gave her a wide-eyed look, before smiling up at Zebediah apologetically.

“I-it seems I’ve led us a-astray, my love…”

“That’s alright, Allen,” Zebediah said, moving his arm so that he could take one of the man’s – Allen’s – hands and squeeze it in his own. Rae could not help but see the scars that lined Zebediah’s skin; accidents and self-mutilation and self-defence and everything in between being told from those scars. She wanted to trace them, tell each story, and tell him that God would not judge him. She could feel a believer’s soul when she was close, but his faith was weak; and Allen’s none at all. Ellie’s was the strongest, but it was warped into something of her own creation.

Humanity’s only way to survive these days, it seemed.

“I could show you the right way to go, if you’d like,” Rae offered then, giving them a helpful smile. Allen and Zebediah turned to look at her, and she could see how closely tied they were; how they completed one another. How Allen’s frailer soul mended Zebediah’s broken one, and how Zebediah made Allen stronger. They were good for one another; healthy, pure.

It made her wonder how anyone could think her Lord Father despised people like them, when they could do so much with their love.

“N-no, no, we w-w-wouldn’t wish to b-bother you,” Allen said with a little smile, shaking his head and squeezing Zebediah’s hand all in the same breath. “W-we’ll just l-look around a little more…w-we’ll eventually find o-ourselves where we n-n-need to be. Thank you, t-though – it was v-very thoughtful of y-y-you to ask.”

Rae nodded, feeling her heart drop a little. She stepped back, looking once more at Ellie, only to see the young girl staring at her very openly.

She stared back, heading tilting to the side, before realizing Ellie was not looking at her, per se – but at her wings. With that realization, she gave the girl a secretive smile and a wink, saying a quick goodbye and disappearing into the crowd.

The last thing she heard from them was Ellie speaking to her guardians, her voice questioning.

“Was that an angel?”

~+~

Rae returned to the Isle with many thoughts on her mind, walking the quiet streets and all at once missing the busy streets of London. Hearing the sickening squelch of teeth through flesh, she paused near an alleyway; peeking into the dark and feeling herself grow cold at the sight.

Her brother sat crouched over a body, his mouth bloody as he guided the sinner’s soul through the gaping wound in his neck. The sinner was on his face, his back completely gone, and her brother was swallowing the soul as if it were a fine wine. She could feel the wrongness of him; feel the twistedness of his being, now. She could feel how cold and dead he was inside.

It made her long for Allen’s gentle voice and careful smile.

It made her want to mourn for her brother.

Looking around, Adiel was lost for a moment before realizing she was in the diner in the middle of the lunch rush. Tugging quickly at the hideous orange outfit she wore for work, she rushed over to the kitchens and grabbed a plate with a burger and fries balance precariously on top of it. Ellie grinned her thanks at the cook who waved her off, turning towards where table four was and practically dropping her tray when the assistant manager of the diner was in front of her.

“Ah…’lo, Mister Steven, can I help you?”

“Just come by my office once you’re done with this,” the tall, weasel-looking man tapped Ellie’s tray before moving past her. Thin, twitchy hands trailed over her shoulder and through the ponytail in which she tied her hair back, before disappearing just as Mister Steven did.

Ellie shook her head, shaking the feeling of fingers out of her hair, before dropping the order off to a thin man who nodded his thanks and immediately dug into his burger. Seeing that she was no longer needed, Ellie turned and made her way towards the back of the diner where the offices were – the manager’s (a man who was barely there) and the assistant manager’s (Mister Steven).

Knocking on the door, she heard Mister Steven call her in. She stepped inside, walking towards the desk and stopping when Mister Steven lifted a hand to halt her movement.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Ah…sure,” she complied, confused as she shut the door quietly behind her. Usually they didn’t need to shut the door if it was a quick word. Turning around, she squeaked when the assistant manager was right there, curling a finger around a lock of long, black hair.

“How’re you holding up, Ellie, working so hard on weekends despite being a student?”

“Uhm,” Ellie swallowed, looking at his hand uncertainly before looking up at him. “It’s fine, Mister Steven! Not hard at all. I really actually like it, and I do my homework every night so it’s not like I have to worry about being overworked or anything! Was, ah, was that all?”

Mister Steven made her nervous. He was thin and greasy and had hair that fell to the middle of his back that made him look like what Momma called ‘a slime ball’.

A hand on her leg made her twitch, and she looked down at it blankly before looking up at Mister Steven again. He was smiling at her – leering, more like – and leaning far too close to be work appropriate.

“Is that all you want it to be?”

“Ellie opened her mouth to answer, falling back when the door was suddenly opened and falling back against someone’s chest. Looking up, she saw Theresa Walker staring at Mister Steven with blank eyes before looking down at Ellie.

“…You disappoint me, Ellie-belly.”

She shoved her daughter forward, back towards Mister Steven, but there was no one there to catch her and Ellie fell to her hands and knees. Crying out, she lifted a hand to see that she had scraped her hand badly; it was red and raw and bleeding.

A Thor bandage settled onto her palm easily, and Ellie looked up to see Allen kneeling down in front of her, gentle grey eyes focused on her hand.

“Allen!” She was suddenly glad to see a friendly, known face, the image of her mother’s blank eyes and Mister Steven’s lewd grin being pushed out of her mind. “Oh, am I ever so glad to see you! I think something weird’s happening, I saw my Momma and I saw my old assistant manager, but I haven’t either of them in like a year and it’s just weird –”

“Adiel.”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut, watching Allen as he looked up at her with the same expression as her mother.

“…Why did you f-find Zebediah? Ever since you’ve come around…n-nothing’s been the same.”

“Allen?”

“Adiel, you’ve ruined everything.” Allen stood up, towering over her, pale face blank and eyes far away from her. “You ruin everything. Everything bad that happens to others is your fault. I…I wish you hadn’t come to Westfield.”

He walked away from her, then, leaving Ellie alone in the room. She stared down at her hand to see the scrap growing and festering, crawling along her skin and up her veins, wrapping around her neck and heading straight for her heart –

Technically speaking, Adiel shouldn’t have been out of school. But seeing how she wasn’t even in school, Zebediah didn’t see the harm in going out of state for a bit of sightseeing. That, and Allen had a convention for cardiologists that was taking place in NYC, and he thought it would be nice if the whole ‘family’ could go along.

(They had to leave behind Dinah, sadly, putting her in the capable hands of the caretakers at her kennel. Ellie had promised the growing German shepherd that she would bring her back a special bone from NYC, because everyone appreciated a souvenir. Even dogs.)

They had gone by plane, much to Zebediah’s chagrin, early in the morning where only the business orientated and the determined-to-get-there-as-fast-as-possible flyers could be seen. They flew coach, Ellie had a book bag filled with books and comic books and more books from both Allen’s private library and Gerry-the-librarian’s library, and Zebediah took to muttering prayers of ACDC and Led Zeppelin when they took off and landed.

(Allen was still much too amused by his beau’s fear of flying.) 

They made it in relatively good time, with only a half hour delay because another plane at the airport in New York City had yet to take off. Hailing a cab (which was practically an Olympic sport, it was that difficult), Zebediah and Ellie piled into the backseat while Allen took the front. Only because he knew where the hotel they were staying at was, and he had to give the address.

Out of the party of three, only Zebediah had never been to New York City. Allen had spent some of his youth in the sprawling metropolis, and Ellie was born and raised in the stickier neighbourhoods where the homeless were her friends and Broadway’s backstage her entertainment system.

We note this because we can.

“Well that’s fancy lookin’,” Zebediah muttered, looking out the cab window to the rather large-and-extraordinary hotel they were pulling up to. “This where your convention thing at?” 

“Mm,” Allen nodded, pulling out a few bills and paying the cabbie for his efforts. The three clambered out of the yellow vehicle, Ellie waving as it zipped off into traffic – slow moving as it was, a cab was always able to move quickly. “O-on the bottom level; there are o-offices and a r-rather large meeting area for u-us to use.”

“Hey, I think I know this street!” Ellie piped up appearing at Allen’s elbow and pointing down said street. “Isn’t a really good Chinese restaurant down that-a-way?”

“Oh, I c-can’t remember, h-honestly. It’s b-been so long since I’ve been in the c-city…”

“How long is long?”

“I was…a y-younger man.”

“Hmm…” Ellie put on what she called her ‘thinking face’, scrunching up her nose and pressing her forefingers against her lips, fingertips poking at the end of her nose, “well! Looks like I’ll be our tour guide, huh?”

“L-looks like,” Allen agreed with a smile, ruffling her hair gently before smoothing it back in place. Adiel preened, leaning into his hand like a pup getting an ear scratching. Zebediah chose that moment to adjust the two big suitcases he was holding (his and Allen’s and Ellie’s respectively), clearing his throat and looking at them expectantly. “A-ah, yes, we should head i-inside…”

Leading the way into the hotel, Allen went up to the front desk to check in while Ellie explored the front lobby and Zebediah propped himself against a conveniently-placed fancy-as-heck pillar. Why hotels felt the need to have decorative pillars in their front lobby, the gunman couldn’t figure out. Maybe so people could prop up on them.

“F-fourth floor,” Allen said, walking over to Zeb and looking up at him. He noted Adiel not standing glued to Zebediah’s side, taking a moment to spot her peeking into the restaurant section of the hotel. “E-Ellie, we’ll have s-something to eat l-later! Let’s get s-settled in, hmm?”

“Kay! Do I get a room of my own? I’ve never had a room of my own in a hotel before. Momma was always afraid that if I wasn’t in the room with her, I would get kidnapped or killed or something else equally horrible and scary while in a hotel. Of course, whenever we stayed in hotels, they were kind of ratty. And nasty. And not as nice as this, not at all. This really is a nice hotel, does it cost a lot? I bet it does. The restaurant looks fancy and that usually means that the hotel costs a lot ‘cause they’re expecting fancy people to come eat in their fancy restaurant. Will I have to get dressed for dinner? I don’t think I have any nice dresses. ‘Cept that one from the shelter but I think I left that at home. I should get a nice dress, you never know when you’ll need it…”

Ellie filled the silence as they made their way to the elevator, squeezing in past a rather large woman with a bouffant that probably should have been out of style and a skinny guy delivering pizzas. She only quieted down long enough for her to leave Zeb and Allen’s side to explore her hotel room, leaving the doctor and the gunman by themselves.

Zebediah dropped their suitcase onto the suitcase rack near the door, slipped out of his boots, and flopped face-first into their king sized bed, sighing in relief to be off his feet. The mattress was rather soft, almost too much so, but the pillows were firm enough to make up for that. Hopefully it wouldn’t kill his back when he went to sleep.

He twitched when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning his head enough to look at Allen from the corner of his eye. Smiling down at him, his doctor pressed a kiss to his temple and squeezed his arm lightly, pulling away after a moment. “Where’re you goin’?”

“I’m g-going to s-s-see if I can f-find where the convention will b-be,” Allen said, adjusting his shirt and smoothing back unruly curls from his forehead. “You t-take a nap, Zeb, y-you didn’t get enough sleep last n-night. M-meet me in front of the restaurant in an h-hour?”

“Mmph.”

Allen laughed, a quiet sound that was more breath than noise, before picking up his key card and making his way to the door. “Love you, too, Zeb.”

Zeb lifted his hand in a lazy flap of farewell, knocking out the minute the door was closed. _____________________________________________________________________ 

When Ellie had popped over to Allen and Zeb’s room, she saw the doctor closing the door quietly behind him and assumed Zebediah was asleep.

Of course, Allen was always very considerate towards others, especially herself and Zeb. She could wake up at two AM from nightmares, crying and shaking and hugging the ever-loving daylights out of poor Dinah, and suddenly Allen would be beside her, pushing a cup of steaming hot cocoa in her hands and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Shaking fingers running through her hair, a quiet voice filled with British song lulling her back into calmness, and eventually she would feel practically human again.

But she knew Zeb was sleeping because Allen turned towards her after making sure the door was locked, put his finger to his lips, and smiled at her serenely. She took the moment to mean ‘Zebediah’s asleep and you shouldn’t talk just yet’.

So she didn’t talk just yet.

Actually, she didn’t get to talk at all because Allen left her soon as they were on the main floor, saying that he was going to go find where his convention-thing was and that he and Zeb were meeting at the restaurant in an hour – she should meet them, too.

So with that plan made, Allen disappeared somewhere into the bowels of the hotel, leaving little Ellie Walker to her own devices.

Of course she left.

It had been much too long since Adiel had last been to her native city – a year, actually! The streets were familiar secrets; the people unknown friends. She passed by Buskers and the saxophonist who played on that one corner near the McDonald’s and the Starbucks every Tuesday who always played Pirates of the Caribbean music because it was his favourite movie. She waved to a woman in the middle of a photo shoot, dressed in silky frocks and twirling in the natural wind of the street.

(She waved back, and gave the photographer a lovely candid shot that would be used in the next fashion magazine.)

She walked and walked and walked, using shortcuts that she would suddenly remember or suddenly make up, diving deeper and deeper into the belly of the city and feeling her blood sing.

Adiel walk finally and truly home.

That wasn’t to say that the Townsend-Walker household wasn’t home. It was cozy and she loved it there, with Dinah and Zeb and Allen surrounding her, making her feel like she was part of a real, honest-to-goodness family like Momma always wanted for her. It was sweet and comfortable and she did love it.

But New York City was in her blood. It rushed through her veins and it settled in her skin like a familiar coat; well worn and worn-out, but still her absolute favourite.

Coming up to a familiar-not-familiar part of town, where the shadows were longer and the edges of buildings a tad sharper than usual, she thought she saw someone she recognized working in a garage. Back towards her, dressed in a grease-stained wife-beater and wearing gloves to make sure he didn’t hurt himself while working on the car he was currently bent over.

Zebediah should probably take pointers from this guy; he was always hurting himself on the Impala. Ellie swore he and the car was basically the same person by now.

But why did she recognize this man?

Walking up to him, the slip of a 16-year-old peeked over at the profile of the man, eyes widened at the familiar shape of his lips; the dip of his nose; the slant and colour of his eyes. He even had the same haircut; the same forehead; the same arms and hands and ears and chin and cheeks. He even had the freckles!

The only thing he didn’t have were the scars.

“…Zeb?”

The man jerked, turning towards her and narrowing his eyes on her threateningly. That seemed to be his immediate response, it’s what he did immediately. Straightening out to his full height (good grief, they were the same height!), the man crossed his arms over his chest and downright sneered.

“What did y’call me?”

“Uhh…Zeb? Zebediah?” She blinked up at him, watching as his expression turned more and more sour the more and more she spoke. “Okaay…not Zeb. What’s your name?”

“What’s it t’ya?”

“…Well, I’m Ellie,” Ellie pushed forward, holding out her hand and grinning up at him. “Adiel Walker, actually, but Adiel’s a funny name so everyone calls me Ellie. Well. A few people do. Someone calls me Addy. But only one person. Anyhow, not the point. You look a lot like someone I know. My cousin, actually! Zebediah Walker. You got his face and his eyes and you even kinda look like him but he’s not as grumpy as you. What’s your name? What’cha workin’ on? Are you from New York? You don’t sound like you’re from the city. But who knows, there’s all types! What’cha do for a living? Do you fix cars? That’s neat, I like cars. But not as much as Zeb. I bet you and Zeb would get along really well. Well, maybe not. He might get frustrated at you. Or you might kill him. You seem like the type of person to kill people. I’ve met a lot of folks like that in this part of town. My neighbour killed his wife this one time. Got arrested and everything. Was let out ‘cause he said it was self defense, but Momma and I knew better. But Momma always told me that we had to keep our noses out of other people’s business –”

“The name is Vincent, what I do is none of your friggin’ business, you talk too much, and you should listen to your mother.”

Ellie snapped her mouth shut, watching him with wide doe-eyes for a moment before she sighed and nodded, stepping away.

“Sorry to have bothered you!”

“Then stop botherin’ me.”

Ellie squeaked, taking another step back, not quite able to make herself leave this strange man’s side. He didn’t really seem like a Vincent. But then again, he didn’t seem like a Zebediah, either. How odd, that Zeb’s clone didn’t even look like the name ‘Zeb’ would suit him. This man seemed more archaic to her. Older. Wiser. Angrier. Lots of ‘er’ words.

“I’m sorry, but can I take a quick picture ‘cause you really, really look like Zeb and I want to show him when I get back to him –”

“Go the fuck AWAY!” The man threw his hand cloth at her, causing a terrified shriek to emit from Ellie, quickly followed by a pop as the young girl popped away.

Vincent, AKA Vidar, Norse God in Human Clothing, stared at the spot where the annoying brat had been and wondered if he’d just pissed off some other culture’s spirit or something.

“Fucking Hel…”

Meanwhile, Ellie Walker ended up on the roof of the hotel, which was precisely twelve stories (because no one counted the poor thirteenth story) and practically fell off the edge.

She only saved herself because she freaked out again and teleported mid-fall into someone’s bathtub.

They were very confused. _____________________________________________________________________ 

Zebediah was not sure when he had set up his alarm to go off for an hour after he had gone to sleep, but somehow he had managed it.

Rousing himself up from the much-needed rest, slapping the machine off and grumbling about annoying beeping noises, the gunman made his way to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and brush his teeth quickly. When he looked into the mirror he noted that he had pillow creases pressed into his cheek, making his snort.

“Good God I must’ve slept heavily.”

Drying his face off, he grabbed the extra key card and pulled his boots back on, making his way out of the hotel room and down towards the stairs.

(Zebediah preferred the stairs over elevators. The stairs couldn’t get stuck.)

Jogging down the last few steps, he pushed open the stairwell door and stepped into the lobby, right next to where the restaurant was. Well, that was handy.

Leaning against the wall, he looked around to make sure Allen and Ellie weren’t just sitting around waiting for him to get up. He didn’t see either of their dark heads of hair however, meaning Zeb was the first one there. Which was nice, really, because this way he wasn’t late. He’d much rather be early than late.

Making himself comfortable, the gunman took another look around the hotel, peeking into the restaurant to make sure Allen didn’t grab a seat ahead of time.

And that’s when he saw his doctor.

Well…he thought he was his doctor. After first. He was about the same height and the same build, with the same nose and the same high forehead that he often pressed kisses to or pushed his own forehead against. Same sharp cheekbones, same ears, same neck…

It was Allen but it wasn’t.

One of the major differences was the colour of the man’s hair. Instead of pitch black, he had dark brown. And he had a beard of a lighter shade. He walked around the restaurant dressed as a server, too, and that really was the biggest hint of them all.

The man was seemingly gliding between tables when he looked over at Zebediah, his blue eyes wide and fathomless and Zebediah thought he had just felt his breath stolen from him. Not from some sort of overly-romantic sentiment – more like he was staring into a black hole and he was literally being sucked out of reality.

Holy hell, those were frightening eyes though.

The man blinked at him, cocked his head to the side, and smiled a sleepy little smile before turning away, talking quietly to a woman at a table he was serving.

Zebediah jumped when small hands grabbed onto his forearm.

“Oh my goodness, Zeb, you will not believe what I saw when I went out walking. So I was just walking wherever I wanted because I know the streets really well and even when I don’t I have my pocket knife so I’m all good, and I come across this guy at a garage. And I thought I recognized him so I went up to say hi and he looked exactly like you except he seemed way older and wiser and angrier and meaner and all the ‘er’ words but that’s not important. But he was you he had your nose and your lips and your chin and your face and shoulders and he even sounded like you – granted you get a Southern accent sometimes which is weird you’re not from the South was your momma from the South she must have been ANYWAY – and he was your height and I tried to get a picture but he scared me and I teleported onto the roof and almost fell off and teleported again into someone’s bathtub. Which was really, really hard to explain by the way but I managed it who are you looking at?”

“I thought I was looking at Allen – wait a goddamn minute you almost fell off the roof?”

“W-what’s this about r-roofs and f-falling and s-s-seeing me?”

Zeb and Ellie looked over to see Allen approaching them, a confused little smile on his face. Shrugging, Zebediah watched as Ellie launched herself at Allen and started yapping a mile a minute, telling him the same story she had just told Zebediah. Allen, listening, came up to Zeb and kissed his cheek, hiding his amused smile at Ellie’s exuberance against his stubble-skin, before turning back to the girl and pressing the tips of his fingers to her lips to quiet her.

“W-why don’t you t-t-tell me everything over l-lunch?”

“Okay! Oh, Zeb said he thought he saw someone who looked like you in the restaurant.”

“O-oh?” The doctor peeked into the restaurant, but the strange man with the endless eyes was gone. Allen blinked, head tilting to the side curiously, before he shrugged and hooked his arm with Zebediah’s, hooking the other with Ellie’s. “W-well, he seems to be g-g-gone now. L-Let’s find a table.”

_____________________________________________________________________ 

While Ellie slept soundly in her bed and Zebediah and Allen spent a few hours to themselves accordingly, the rest of New York City thrived.

Walking home aimlessly, his eyes to the starry sky and his mind to the woman they always reminded him of, Morgan Knight barely caught himself when he bumped into another person. Another god, to be exact – he always knew the feeling.

“Fuck’s sake, Morpheus, watch where the hell you’re goin’.”

“Ah,” Morpheus sighed, straightening his shirt and looking up through his lashes to Vidar, who was busy crossing his arms and scowling at the world. “My apologies, Vidar, my mind is elsewhere.”

“It’s always elsewhere, you’re never on the freakin’ planet.” The Norseman rolled his eyes, wrinkling his nose distastefully, before he moved to pass him. Morpheus reached out, fingertips trailing over his bicep and causing him to pause mid-step. “What?”

“I saw a very curious thing today,” Morpheus murmured, voice soft and lulling and practically singing Vidar to sleep. The god wondered if the dreamer had gotten a sacrifice lately. “A very curious thing indeed.”

“And what’s that, my clone?”

“…As a matter of fact, yes.” Morpheus smiled, not seeming to be affected by the fact Vidar could apparently read his mind. “Yours and mine.”

“Wait, yours?”

“They were together,” Morpheus added, a funny little smile on his lips. “Romantically so.”

“…That’s fucking disgusting,” Vidar said with a shudder, shaking his head. “Odin’s sake, today’s been way too weird.”

“Indeed.” Morpheus bobbed his head in a nod, before turning away again. “Have a good night, Vidar. And sweet dreams.”

“Oh, shut up.”

I’ve never actually hard control before. Momma always took care of me. She always made sure I was fed and clothed and educated and that I never wanted for anything.

And then she died, and I couldn’t stop that. All I could was smile ‘cause it was what she wanted.

When I came to Westfield, I would have died without Dominic, I’m sure of it. ‘Cause I’ve got no control, you know? I needed someone to feed me and clothe me and educate me, and Dom put himself in that role.

So did Gerry. My sweet Gerry, my grumpy librarian friend. He would let me sleep in the library and give me food and read to me.

Everything out of my hands and into someone else’s.

Then I finally found Zebediah, and he was with Allen, and he had Dinah, and they all took care of me. Zebediah sheltered me and Allen fed me and both of them clothed and educated me and Dinah kept me company.

And they did everything.

And I did nothing.

Because that’s what I do.

I do nothing.

I cannot live without depending on others.

I. Cannot. Live.

I can’t even control my own powers, you know! I get scared and I’m in Chinatown!

Oh my God why don’t I have control.

Why don’t I have control.

I need it.

I’ll die without it.

…I need control.

I can’t have control over my life.

Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, hands clutching the shirt she had brought down for her Momma’s inspection and buoyant mood plummeting to her feet, the 16-year-old stared at the woman who birthed her in complete horror. Not shock – she had always known her Momma had never wanted her.

But Momma was the best at acting, and she acted like Momma as if she really, truly meant it. 

“I never wanted you because you are an abomination. Against God, against humanity – hell, against demons. You shouldn’t exist, Ellie-belly. I should have drowned you at birth. But I didn’t. Maybe that’s your Papa’s charm, hm? Such a charming sludge-ball. Charming enough to crawl through my mouth like Satan to the Serpent and impregnate me as if it was nothing. I had to run away from home, Ellie-belly – my Mama never would have understood, and she would have cast me out or beaten me. She might have taken me to the priest, and I didn’t want him to die. ‘Cause your Papa – oh that slick demon. He would have killed that kind old priest. And then I’d have gone straight to Hell.”

She knew the story. Momma would whisper it to her as she grew up, telling her about her demon Papa and about how she was conceived like a sick version of the Virgin Mary being blessed with the Holy Spirit – but there was nothing Holy or blessed about her conception.

“Why did I keep you, Ellie-belly? Why did I even bother? We’ve had to move five times now, ever since your tenth birthday and your damned powers started working their voodoo, blasphemous magic. Aren’t you ashamed? You can’t control yourself, and you’ve killed people, Ellie-belly. You have killed people because of your selfish ignorance.”

She had – she knew she had. She had killed a classmate because she made her mad. But he just wouldn’t shut up about how Ellie’s Momma was a whore, and she had gotten so frustrated—that his head blew up.

No one knew how it had happened.

And, claiming trauma for being right there, Ellie and her Momma had moved.

They were good at moving.

“And recently, people have been getting worse and worse around you. I feel sick, Ellie-belly. I feel like something is clawing inside of my womb; it’s carrying you to term all over again. So I’ve decided enough’s enough.”

“Momma…?”

“I can’t keep you, anymore, Ellie-belly,” Momma turned towards her finally, holding the carving knife she used to cut up her chickens and turkeys at Christmas and Easter. “I’m gonna abort you.”

“Momma…!”

“I suppose this should be called murder…but we’ll call it a very…very late abortion. And then I’ll kill myself. And we’ll finally be happy, won’t we baby?”

Then Momma took a step towards her –

– and panicked, Ellie threw the shirt she had been about to show off at her Momma’s face, setting it afire in her fear and watching as Momma caught on fire.

And she screamed and screamed and screamed until she couldn’t scream anymore.

It was always quiet in the park at night, seeing as no one trusted the shadows to keep them safe from predators and criminals in beguiling smiles. The swings would creak and the merry-go-round would whimper out an old screech of joints and gears needing a proper oiling; the slide would glint reflections of reflected moonlight.

Having left the warm house and the warmer bed of one Jakob Murray due to a reoccurring nightmare of blood and screaming and infant-eyes, Annie wrapped her winter coat tighter around the loose T-shirt she had pulled on before leaving the house. Boots scuffed along the cement, some areas slick with ice, others sunk in with chilled puddles from when the weather warmed up unseasonably a few days before. Dirty snow, virgin-white and sluttish-brown, lined the sidewalk like a parody runway.

She smiled vaguely at her wandering thoughts, wondering if the skipping of her ideas was something to be concerned about or if it was just a side-effect of her dream-skipping.

However, her thoughts came to a shrieking halt when she heard the gentle melody of humming heading her way.

Looking up sharply, wide hazel-brown eyes rounding even further (making her look like her eyes were going to pop out of her skull at a moment’s notice), Annie looked madly around the park to see where the noise was coming from. Her gaze settled on a far-away figure on the swings, standing on the seat and tilting back as she sang to the sky.

It was a wisp of a girl, all pale skin and dark hair and dark eyes. She wore a long black jacket that had seen better days but was obviously warm over a dark shirt that looked much nicer and a pair of black jeans that were obviously new. Clunky boots a size-too-large covered her feet, and warm, age-softened leather gloves covered her hands. She didn’t wear a hat or a scarf, though, so her attempts at keeping herself warm seemed pointless.

Unbeknownst to Annie, the childless mother started to walk towards the girl, a frown pulling on the corners of her lips.

“Hey, kid!” The singing and the swinging abruptly stopped, the young girl squeaking in surprise before falling onto her back harshly. Annie swore, running over to the girl and wishing she had put on something warmer than yoga pants before she went out. Well, not that she had been expecting to tromp through ankle-high and higher snow banks…

“You alright?” Annie muttered as she knelt down beside the girl, looking at her more closely now that she had the chance. A sweet, rounded face, wide eyes that were a very distinct brown colour, hair that fell to the middle of her shoulder blades…

The shape of her nose and the curve of her jaw were terribly familiar to her, however.

“Ahh?” The girl blinked up at her widely, before she smiled sheepishly and nodded, pushing herself awkwardly into a sitting position. “Yes, ma’am, I’m fine! Perfectly fine! Well…maybe not perfectly fine, my back does hurt a little bit, but I’ve had worse! You just scared me, is all! I didn’t know anyone else came to the park this late!”

“Yeah, neither did I,” Annie sighed, shifting into a crouching position and smoothing back the girl’s hair automatically. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I was just wondering why you were out here.”

“It’s quiet. I like the quiet sometimes, even though you wouldn’t guess it with how much I talk. Uhm. I like it ‘cause then I can think. And. I don’t feel like I’m crowding in around someone who doesn’t want me around.” She shook her head, sighing softly, before looking up at Annie with an innocent smile. “But never mind that! What’s your name?”

“Hm?” Annie hummed, blinking slowly, before she shrugged and pushed back a loose strand of rough blood-red hair. Her hair had never returned to a smooth sheen like when she was a child. Too much abuse and stress and cruelty towards it had forever ruined it. “Ah – Annie. Kirkpatrick. Well, technically Walker…but I go by Kirkpatrick these days.”

“Walker?” The girl brightened, smile widening. “That’s my last name, too! Adiel Theresa Walker! Isn’t that a funny coincidence?”

“…hilarious,” Annie murmured, eyes narrowing softly as her feelings towards the girl slowly started to turn towards the direction of poison and ice. “Shouldn’t you be at home? You look a little young to be out…”

“Oh, ah, I do have a home. Uhm. I live with my cousin! And his partner. But, ah, I wanted to give them some alone time.” Adiel Theresa Walker nodded, looking as though she had put plenty of thought into this kind gesture. And perhaps she had.

“Who’s your cousin? I bet he’s worried…”

“Zebediah Walker.” Annie felt her insides give a twist and a hand so cold it burned wrapped around her throat as a voice whispered grab her grab her wring her neck—

“And I’ll be sure to get back before he notices I’m gone!”

“Perhaps that should be now? It’s awfully late, Adiel dear…” Annie said sweetly, standing up and offering a hand to the young girl. Adiel trustfully took it, and Annie pulled her up, helping her straighten herself out. A boney bird-hand flittered over her dark hair again, straightening it and tugging it behind her ear. Adiel didn’t even notice the few strands that drifted back with the kindly redhead.

“I guess you’re right, Miss Annie. I’ll say goodnight, then! And maybe we’ll see each other again?”

“Oh, I’m sure we will,” Annie reassured with a smile, smoothing the backs of her fingers over Adiel’s cheek before pinching it gently. Her nail nicked the girl’s skin as she pulled away, but Adiel didn’t even seem to notice. “Have a safe trip home, dear.”

“I will! Bye, now!”

Annie lifted her hand in a wave, watching as the little girl who blabbed too much walked off, her hazel eyes drifting down to the long strands of hair she clutched in her naked fingers.

“Zebediah, I didn’t know you had a baby cousin…” she murmured gently, a smile curling cruelly on her lips. “She seems so…sweet.”

Her eyes flashed hatefully at the thought, before she turned and made her way back to Jakob’s warm house and warmer bed.

New plans were cultivating in her mind to replace to failing old.

 Dom had gone off who-knows-where, and Adiel had promised him that she would stay put because she didn’t know her way anywhere. However, a rather pesky street cat decided that that wouldn’t do, jumping out of the shadows and knocking over metal trash bin lids with a yowl that spoke of Hell. Scared out of her wits, Ellie screamed at the top of her lungs—

 —and with a pop! ended up on a street very far away from where she had been standing purposely still.

Adiel never did forgive that cat.

The library had just been down the street and around the first corner to her right. The lights were like a beacon, really, warm and inviting and promising comfort and some quiet to calm her nerves. She’d slipped inside, wide eyes taking in everything from the numerous bookshelves to the people sat in cushy chairs and lounging on old couches to the man sitting behind the counter with a crease between his eyebrows (noticeable as they were) and a twitch to his eye at her entrance.

Computer’s are over there, he had told her, looking up at her briefly before turning back to his computer. And jumping, she had rushed over to where he had pointed, seeing a bunch of teenagers sitting at the computers with headphones plugged in and music blasting into their ears that even she could hear.

They were looking at websites that had little to nothing to do with books, and she briefly wondered what they were doing in a library when they could have looked up funny videos and silly blogs from home. When they looked over at her, she felt about ten times smaller than she actually was, returning back to what it was like in school back in the city, before she scurried off to the stacks and lost herself in the fiction section.

She was found a few hours later by the librarian telling her she had to go.

~+~

Gerry Howard was a whole lot of things, and patient with kids who disrespected the library was not one of them.

When a spit of a girl had stumbled into the library, looking wide-eyed and confused, he assumed she would want to use the computers just like anyone else her age these days. No one appreciated a good book; no one wanted to sit down and curl up with an age-worn friend and read their stories in the musty pages. It was all about the internet and kindles and ebooks and whatever else. So without even bothering to look at her, he pointed her to the computers and ignored her.

And just like he expected her to, she walked off in the direction he pointed.

The rest of the evening had thankfully fallen into silence after that intrusion, people once in a while coming up to him with a book and a library card, or a book they wanted to return, or a question that needed answering just that minute. This only happened every once in a while, however, which was just fine by Gerry. He wasn’t much of a people person, after all.

Finally, nearing closing time, Gerry left his seat to go shoo the last of the teenagers from the computers, noting offhandedly that the girl who had stumbled in earlier wasn’t there.

He thought for a moment that she had already left, but he would’ve remembered her leaving – she was a small thing, but a small thing in a strange set of clothes from an oversized sweater to a dress that was more dress-shirt and boots that were clunky and around a size too big, if he were to hazard a guess.

So he walked through the stacks, looking to see if she was hiding out there and making some kind of mess of the books. He finally found her near the fairytales, curled up against the wall and reading a large book of different fairytales and stories that he had perused himself before deciding that fairytales were a bunch of bullshit.

She had been completely engrossed in the stories, though, something he didn’t often see on the faces of kids her age, and so he felt maybe the slightest tiniest hint-whisper of guilt for telling her she had to go.

She had simply looked up at him with those wide eyes that seemed perpetually surprised before smiling vaguely and nodding, putting the book onto the return cart (like you were supposed to) and leaving without another word.

He had closed the library for the night with a bit of a funny, hopeful feeling that had no right to be in his chest in the first place.

Stayed there, anyway.

~+~

The next time she went to the library, it had been a month after she had been found by Dominic and she had actually asked him for directions so that she knew where she was going.

It was earlier afternoon this time, yet the same man who had been sitting behind the counter that first night was sitting there again, a different book in hand but the same drawn expression on his face. She hadn’t even waited for him to tell her where the computers were – she went off to the stacks by herself, found herself in the fantasy section, and picked up the nearest book before curling up in a free armchair and losing herself to a world not at all like her own.

When she heard the librarian make his rounds around the building to tell any stragglers that they had to go, she slipped the book she had been reading onto the return cart. She then hid within the nearest nook that she knew would hide her, covering her face with her hair and closing her eyes as she hoped for the best.

The librarian walked by her without ever noticing. She knew she was safe when the lights went out and the distant sound of a lock was turned.

Tucking herself in more securely into her nook, Ellie fell asleep and had the first warm rest she’d had since she had entered Westfield.

~+~

When Gerry saw the girl again, he couldn’t help but feel relieved to see her. He didn’t know why, as it didn’t make any logical sense, but seeing her again let him know that she was safe and she hadn’t died in some gutter or whatever.

Good God, the optimism he had for humanity’s survival.

However, when he went around the library to tell her she had to go, she wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and Gerry briefly wondered if he had missed her leaving with the rest of the crowd. He also briefly wondered if he had imagined her (which was…surprisingly likely even though he told himself it really wasn’t), before he saw something move in a nook between wall and bookshelf, a chair in front of it.

Hiding, was she?

Having half a mind to tell her he found her, he thought back to when he had first seen her that evening and when he first saw her period, and realized she was wearing the exact same clothes. Of course, it was completely possible that she happened to put on the same outfit, but the clothes had looked a bit dirtier, she had had a smudge of something on her cheek, and she looked thinner in the face.

He walked passed her purposely, turned out the light, and locked the library behind him.

At least he knew she’d be safe for the night.

~+~

The first time Ellie spotted an apple close to her hiding spot, she thought someone had left behind their snack when they went off to find another book and just never bothered to come back for it.

(So of course she ate it for them.)

The second time, it was a apple juice box and a Pop-Tart, which wasn’t as good cold as it was warm but she enjoyed it anyway, and the juice was nice on her stomach.

Progressively, different snacks ended up near to where she would hide out for the night, until finally Ellie hide behind a fairly-crowded bookcase and watched out for the mysterious snack giver.

When she saw it was the librarian, the surprised smile on her face wouldn’t leave for the rest of the night.

And the next day when she saw him leading someone to a section of the stacks with books they were looking for, she waved the pear she was eating purposely at him, hiding her smile behind her book when he flushed in embarrassment.

~+~

He didn’t really know why he’d decided to leave her snacks and drinks.

Maybe it was how he saw her progressively get thinner.

Maybe it was because he saw her biting at her nails sometimes while she read, showing that she needed to bite on something but hadn’t had anything to chew into for a long time.

(Maybe it was because he was a softy, but like he’d ever admit to that out loud ever in his life.)

~+~

In the middle of September, well into a routine by then, Ellie decided to break the usual routine by approaching Gerry with a book in hand, sitting down in front of the counter, and reading quietly to herself.

She had felt his eyes on the top of her head before he finally moved on with his routine, adjusting awkwardly into the new one.

~+~

When Ellie had moved from the stacks to the patch of floor nearest him, Gerry hadn’t known what to think or what to do – so logically, he did nothing.

The second time she did it, he’d stared at her for a very long time before huffing a sigh and turning back to his work.

The third time he’d asked her what she needed, and she had told him plainly ‘nothing’.

This went on multiple times until the twelfth time, where Ellie had called out his name for help on how to pronounce a word and Gerry had squatted down beside her, saying the word slowly and nodding once she got it.

And instead of getting up and returning to his seat, the librarian made himself comfortable and started to read the book aloud to her.

~+~

Gerry had a very soothing voice.

He would read things out loud very articulately, with a sense of purpose behind the words. A sense of meaning that she wouldn’t have gotten by herself, that she could only get with the tone and inflection Gerry put behind certain words and passages.

He always spoke softly, and sometimes when they just spoke (she asking a question, he answering it), she could sense hints of sarcasm, a patience that was thin yet steady, and a sadness he never talked about.

Ellie liked it best when he read aloud.