#hashtag foreshadowing

Silence hung in the air like a thick layer of fog. Robby's brain buzzed as he tried to process what he just heard. The fact that Angel was seemingly as hopelessly devoted to him as he was to Angel should have filled his lonely old heart with joy. But he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Like, seriously wrong.

The heart breaking, gut wrenching anguish in Angel's beautiful voice was just too much for what he was claiming.

That poor, sad voice broke through the silence sounding even worse. "R–Robby...?"

"Yeah?" Robby said quickly, clearing his throat and forcefully pulling himself back into the conversation. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

"Did you hear what I said?" Angel asked meekly.

"I did, baby," Robby answered. He ran a hand up over his face and through his hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Angel sniffled and huffed sadly through the receiver. "Honestly? My life really fucking sucks right now. I don't know what to do and I'm scared."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Robby sighed. "I'm sorry. I... I don't know what to say. I want to help you, but I don't know how."

Angel took another shaking, unsteady breath. "I wish you were here."

"Me too," Robby whispered. As if saying it too loud could still scare Angel away. He cleared his throat and spoke up. "I'd take care of you, you know? I have the knowledge and ability... and plenty of desire."

"I miss you," Angel said, shifting on his bed judging by the sounds in the background. "Is that weird? I know we've never met, but it feels like you're, like... a missing part of me. Like you're someone I lost."

Robby couldn't help the fond smile on his face. "I feel the same way."

"You do?" Angel asked.

"Yeah. It reminds me of... Well, there's this concept in Judaism," Robby said. "It comes from a Yiddish word, bashert, that means something like destiny. It's kind of like a soulmate in a pretty literal sense. As in, the belief is that we only have half a soul and there's someone out there with the other half."

"Bashert..." Angel repeated. "And it means soulmate?"

"Yes and no," Robby said with a bit of a laugh. "It's not like in the movies or corny romance novels. It's less about finding the perfect person and more about finding the person you can grow with and be better for. It's kind of like you said: a missing part that needs to find a way home."

"That's really romantic."

"I think so too."

"Do you believe in it? Bashert?"

Robby tilted his head to the side, humming in thought until coming to a decision of indecision. "I'm not really sure. I mean, I sure like the idea that you were destined to be mine but... What about you? What's your take?"

Angel sighed before responding, "My mom always told me God put us all on earth for a reason, that nothing's accidental. But sometimes... Sometimes I feel like I'm the only exception to that rule."

That was enough to fill Robby's eyes with tears. For a multitude of reasons. Mainly because it made him terribly upset to hear Angel say such things about himself. But also partly because that hit a little too close to home.

He'd had these kind of thoughts before, and he knew where they could lead if they were left unchecked.

"You're not, Angel," Robby said, firm but still soft. He sat up on the sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Or, fuck, maybe you are. But that doesn't have to be bad, does it? You ever watch Bob Ross?"

"The painter guy?" Angel said, suddenly sounding amused.

"Yeah," Robby chuckled awkwardly. "You know what he used to say, right? There's no such thing as mistakes, only happy little accidents. Or something like that..."

Angel started to laugh. At first it was a small giggle, and then it evolved into a fully belly laugh that was music to Robby's ears.

At the end of it, he sighed with something between defeat and contentment. "God, Robby, you are such a dork."

Robby smiled. "Yeah, but it worked to cheer you up, didn't it?"

"Maybe we really are meant for each other," Angel said fondly.

"Yeah. Maybe we are," Robby quietly agreed.

Angel shifted on his bed again and let out a little huff of breath. "Okay, I'm gonna take a shower and then I'll facetime you for your birthday like I promised."

"You know, you could facetime me before your shower," Robby said, a mischievous grin itching at his lips. "And during it... You know..."

Angel just blew a raspberry at him and said, "Perv," before hanging up.

Robby shook his head with a smile and tossed his phone aside for the time being, letting his worries fall to the back of his mind.

Because ignoring problems always made them go away, right?

𓆩♡𓆪

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She paused to take a breath. Vera grinned at her.

“It is Sam’s favorite color,” Vera said, and Gray was tempted to give Vera a conspiratory nudge. “What else have you been up to while we’ve b-been—” Her voice wavered for just a moment. “—gone?”

“Um…” Edrissa’s mouth twisted and she leaned towards Vera. “Yeah, um, a lot. Gray said, Gray said I could paint my room if I wanted, but I haven’t found the right color. They’re all so… so garish.” Edrissa flipped the stray wisps of hair out of her face and looked to Vera, eyebrows raised, as if she was waiting for something.

It was so good to see Edrissa looking for Vera to assure her not that she was safe, but that she was… cool.

“Absolutely,” Vera said with fervor. “Sometimes walls just need to look sophisticated.” Edrissa lifted her chin, and her mouth pulled into a wider smile at the word.

“Exactly,” she said with an emphatic nod. “Sophisticated. I was thinking I could do a whole thing with a mirror on the wall and, and maybe a nice painting if I can find one that captures the… the…” Edrissa stumbled for a moment, her eyes still fixed on Vera. “…the atmosphere I want.”

Sadness dragged at Gray’s heart. She hasn’t been allowed to make her own choices, any choices for two years. And I remember how much I just wanted to be me when I was eighteen.

They pressed their lips into a line to stop the corners of their mouth from falling.

“That sounds like such a great idea,” Vera said, her face breaking into a smile again. “And… Tori and I wanted to start a garden out back. It’s a little late for planting, but… if we get seedlings, would you want something?”

“Yes!” Edrissa cried, and distractedly tapped Gray on the shoulder. For a moment Vera looked at Gray in delighted surprise. Edrissa hadn’t let anyone but Tori and Vera touch her since she’d been rescued almost five months ago. Gray knew the easy touch on their shoulder spoke volumes of the healing she’d done just in the past three weeks.

I wonder how much of that is time away from Gavin. Gray pushed the thought out of their head.  

“Oh, my god, I totally forgot. Last time I was in Burmingham, they had little mint plants. Gray said they wanted some, and I forgot!” She turned to Gray with an unsteady smile. “I’m sorry, I—” Edrissa shivered. Her eyes went distant. She curled into herself slightly, shrinking back against the door of the car.

“It’s alright, Edrissa,” Gray said gently, never taking their eyes off the road. “I’m not hurt. I’m not angry. It’s just a mistake, right? Mistakes are alright.”

“Mm-hm,” Edrissa said uncertainly. She relaxed slightly.

“Remember your counting?” Gray said, low and calm.

Edrissa jerked her head in a nod. She took in a deep breath. “One two three four five,” she muttered, and shook out her hands at the wrists with each number.

“Good. Let’s do it again, together.” Gray’s hands were steady on the wheel, never faltering. Watching the pavement of the road disappear under their car.

Edrissa drew in another deep breath. “One two three four five,” she and Gray said together as she shook out her hands, her quavering voice mixing with Gray’s steady one.

“One more time. Deep breath, one two three four five.” This time, Edrissa, Vera, and Gray said it together.

Gray glanced at Edrissa, at how her shoulders hunched just a little more than they had before, at the dullness in her eyes that reminded them so much of… of Vera, when she was under. Their mouth made a hard line.

“S-sorry,” Edrissa murmured. “I j-just…”

“It’s alright, Edrissa,” Gray said evenly, passing the first few houses on the north outskirts of Crayton. “Everyone has moments, and you were just having a moment.”

“Having a moment,” Edrissa said softly. “Just having a moment.” She smiled tightly at Vera, the corners of her mouth twisting in embarrassment.

Gray’s heart ached for Edrissa, for the girl who had just been going on and on about her room and her fabrics not thirty seconds ago and was now trembling, embarrassed, frightened. Vera leaned forward and put her hand palm up on the center console. An invitation, not a demand. Edrissa fit her hand into Vera’s, and Vera squeezed.

“Tell me more about what plants you want.”

Edrissa offered a wider smile. “Um, I like osteospermum,” she said, her eyes shifting down. “And sunflowers. I like the tall kinds of flowers.” She looked up at Vera. “I had to get a book on plants that do okay with the, the climate up here, because down south it was always—” She cut herself off and swallowed hard. “I like the colorful tall kinds of plants. I’d try for a rosebush but I think it’s too hard for this year.”

“Hm.” Vera nodded. “Well, I’d like to try some raspberry and strawberry bushes. And we could build a shade for the garden, in case the sun is too much.”

“Y-yeah,” Edrissa said softly. She sat back slightly in her seat until Gray pulled onto the main street of shops. They eased the car into a spot along the sidewalk. When Gray stopped, Edrissa shook herself slightly and looked up.

Gray put the car in park. “I was thinking you two could get out here,” they said, indicating with their hand the store that had regular deliveries of fabrics. “I should go to the town hall and check in with Daniel Schiester. I understand your check-in was… rushed.”

“And good fucking thing, too,” Vera said quietly, her jaw clenching shut.

Gray dipped their head. “I don’t exactly appreciate the way he’s spoken to you in the past, so I thought I would make this visit alone. Make sure he feels in control of the situation. Stroke his comically over-inflated ego.”

“I swear to god, he’d make a great fucking syndicate leader,” Vera said, rolling her eyes. She opened the door and climbed out, moving stiffly. Edrissa got out, too, and drifted to Vera’s side.

Gray rolled the passenger window down and leaned towards it. “Shouldn’t take longer than twenty minutes. If you move on from here and I don’t catch you, I’ll meet you in the square in an hour, and we can get lunch. Sound like a plan?”

Vera nodded and cocked her eyebrow. “Have fun with DFS,” she said, snidely.

Gray’s brow furrowed. “DFS?”

Vera bent forward and leaned into the car. “Daniel. Fucking. Schiester,” she said, her voice nearly gleeful with contempt.

Gray snorted and leaned back. “Ah. I’ll have to try not to call him that to his face.”

Vera straightened and shrugged. “If you do, get pictures of his reaction.”

Gray laughed and put the car in drive. “See you soon,” they said, and pulled away.

∴

As Gray got closer to the town hall, their hands tightened on the wheel. Something itched in the back of their mind, something about how Daniel looked at Vera with fascination, with humor. As if he was watching a dog performing tricks. Saccharine. Amused.

Something in the back of their mind stirred at how Daniel looked at Gavin.

There was something there, between them. Gray doubted they had ever actually met. Perhaps it was just morbid, spiteful fascination on Daniel’s part, fascination with the syndicates who ruined the lives of the victims he saw every day. Perhaps it was buried rage, resentment that people like Gavin’s family were the reason Crayton had to exist at all.

Perhaps it was something else, though Gray wasn’t sure what.

Gray pulled in front of the town hall and parked the car. They sat quiet in the seat, staring at the front door, already feeling the tension headache starting. They breathed a sigh, turned off the car, and got out.

Inside the atrium it was cool, dark, and empty, just like it almost always was when refugees weren’t being processed. Gray’s hands tightened into fists and they began to climb the stairs to Daniel’s office.

The stairs creaked under Gray’s feet, their footsteps muffled by the dark green carpet. They made their way to the landing and turned in the direction of Daniel’s office. They almost hoped he wasn’t in today. Their hands clenched tighter as they walked down the hallway, almost feeling the urge to tiptoe, to not make any noise.

Gray grimaced. I’m being ridiculous.

They stopped in front of the door to Daniel’s office. They knocked.

“Come in,” came the deep, even voice. Gray’s face fell. They turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Daniel glanced up from his work on his computer, then looked up and pushed himself away from his desk. “Mx. Uriah,” he said, standing, and held out his hand. “Always good to see you.”

Gray’s skin felt cold as they shook Daniel’s hand once.

“Mr. Mayor,” they said stiffly.

“Ah,” Daniel said with a smile. “I suppose if I wanted you to call me by my first name, I should have begun with that courtesy. Forgive me.”

“Old habits, on my end,” Gray said, and forced their mouth into a smile.

“Right.” Daniel sat back into his chair and leaned his elbows on the desk. “What can I help you with?”

Gray had to stop themself from staring at the pictures of refugees on the walls. Those pictures definitely weren’t of every single refugee Daniel had saved, they couldn’t be. There couldn’t have been more than forty or fifty people in those pictures, and Gray knew Crayton could see that many in a busy week. Maybe those refugees held some meaning for Daniel. Gray didn’t want to pry.

If they were perfectly honest with themself, they didn’t want to ask.

“I’m sure at this point that you are aware that my family has returned from the south?” Gray said, meeting Daniel’s eyes.

Daniel grinned. “Ah. Yes. The triumphant heroes return, quite successful, I’m given to understand. Colleen Stormbeck is dead, and the region is destabilized.”

“That’s right,” Gray said. “They were successful, although at great cost to themselves.”

Daniel’s mouth turned down. “You don’t mean that any of them died…?” He turned to rifle through some papers on his desk. “When my people checked them in, all six were—”

“They all came back alive, yes,” Gray said, their heart twinging. Their gaze fell. “But they all came back with some sort of… permanent… mental or physical scarring.”

“Hm.” Daniel leaned back and folded his hands in his lap. “When you say they all came back alive, I’m assuming you’re not including the Stormbeck boy in your count.”

Gray blew out a slow breath. “When he left here, his name was Gavin Uriah.” They raised their gaze to meet Daniel’s, his eyes a cold blue that always seemed to pierce through Gray. “But yes. He is dead.”

Daniel huffed out a silent laugh. “Generous of you to allow him to take your name, considering everything he’s d—”

“I don’t wish to discuss the rehabilitation of Gavin Uriah,” Gray said softly, their cheeks reddening. “I am fully aware of your opinion of him, and of redemption in general. The fact is when he left here, I had become rather fond of him. And I’d like to let his memory remain for me what he was: a broken boy who died trying to set things right.” Gray’s stomach churned.

Daniel was silent for a moment, regarding Gray coolly across his desk. After a long moment he nodded and said, “Just more evidence for the syndicates’ cruelty, then. I’m sorry your family was the target.”

“So am I,” Gray murmured. They glanced around the office and returned their gaze to Daniel. “But they had to check in with your people in the dead of night and move on without proper processing, as one of them was gravely injured. I wanted to make sure nothing was missed, and answer any questions you had.”

“No, nothing was missed,” Daniel said with a winning smile, waving his hand. “I know that your team arrived in no condition to follow protocol, and the people who checked them in are very thorough.”

“Good,” Gray murmured. The hair on the back of their neck tingled. “Did you need anything from me?”

“Actually, I could use your assistance,” Daniel said with a smile. “Due to the instability of the western region, we are already seeing an increase in the frequency and number of refugees, and am very certain that will only continue to increase. Summer is always a busy season for us, but I am anticipating unprecedented numbers. At the moment, I currently don’t have the people to handle this efficiently. Your family is particularly suited to assisting with refugees, given the nature of your work. I was hoping to recruit you in the processing, if you’re able.”

Gray nodded. “Of course. I can’t speak for the others as they are all convalescing, but I would be happy to help. I will pass on the request. I have no doubt they will offer what they can, as soon as they are able to travel. A few of them may be ready now.”

“Whatever you can do will be appreciated,” Daniel said, and stood, offering Gray his hand. Gray took it. “Always a pleasure, Gray. When you and your family are ready we will orient you with our process.”

Gray nodded. “I’ll keep you posted. Until then, stay well, Daniel.”

“Thank you.” Daniel smiled and sat down. He turned back to his work.

Gray turned and left the office, closing the door behind them. They walked down the hall, their steps quickening, their shoulders tightening. They made their way down the stairs and across the atrium. By the time they pushed through the doors out into the sun, they were nearly jogging.

Continued here