#swynjane

WENDY: The Darlings were finally together again. The last year of wanting and needing and planning to get John back had worked. Wendy hadn’t had much bandwidth to think of anything else besides stealing as much time as she could and getting her brother back.

Now that she had them both back, the nagging thought of her engagement was a weight on her chest. They only had so much time, so many moments she might be able to steal until she was pulled away from them again.

It was one reason Wendy and Thistle needed to break the engagement.

The mara was hunting the Darlings again. Wendy wasn’t stupid, Thistle had warned her and although she had fallen prey again, she wouldn’t continue to be such easy prey. She had seen Nimble the other day and if that smirk was anything to go by, it was his game she was playing again.

But it was on her turf.

Just another reason Wendy and Thistle couldn’t wait to break the engagement.

The only problem.

The older Darlings needed to interact with them. There was no point in wasting time relaying messages between parties when they could work together. Thistle had helped them save John, and Wendy, as much as she wanted to disagree, knew that Thistle was a decent person when he wanted to be.

They needed to meet her fiance and he needed to meet her family. (Just John and Jane at least) Wendy didn’t want Michael to worry about her too much and Danny didn’t need to be in this one. Neither did Nana. 

So here they were instead. In the kitchen with a pot of tea poured between them. 

So mundane & yet so strange. The four of them across one another all sizing each other up, but Wendy was just exhausted from fighting. She had another battle or two in her but she didn’t know how much longer she could go before just giving in one way or another.

That look in John’s eyes though, that steely determination of Jane, no matter how tired she knew with them she would keep going on. 

And right now they needed to know what they were working off of.

“The condition placed on by the Queen was that the two of us needed to share our true names with one another and therefore her. Which would be the worst case as she would just gain control over us.” And in turn the rest of the Darlings. But Wendy knew she didn’t need to mention that. They could put that together but they did need all the cards on the table.

“I also owe my name to Thistle due to an earlier deal.”

THISTLE: Here they were. The Darlings, reunited. 

The image satisfied Thistle, if only because it meant that the Queen was seething in Elfhame. They were winning. That was all that had ever mattered. Nothing else. And as they looked at the Darlings, they thought they weren’t sure what all the fuss was, to be perfectly honest. Wendy was as lovely as ever, sitting with proper posture at their side. Across the table, there was the cousin, Jane, who looked as sour as a wet, feral cat. And about as helpful, they were sure. 

And then there was John Darling. In his rumpled button down shirt and sour expression. He looked thin and too pale, the skin that on Wendy looked like polished porcelain, sharp and gaunt stretched across his sharp features. He was staring at Thistle with an expression that made their tail twitch and eyebrows raise in silent challenge. There was something strange about that stare that had Thistle intrigued, but they were sure there would be plenty of time for questions. 

At first, Thistle was resolved to say nothing at all, simply taking a sip of their tea as Wendy spoke, explaining the situation in, frankly, pedestrian terms. Probably for the best. 

“It will need to be dissolved by March,” they added idly, “or we will be magically and legally considered wed in the eyes of Elfhame. However, wedding bonds are not easily broken. In fact, they are impossible to break. Unless one of us dies.” They smirked directly at John. 

JOHN: Well, this wasn’t exactly news to John. 

He’d learned everything about the situation in Elfhame. It was one of the reasons he wanted to stay– to seek a solution there, among the libraries, with records of hundreds of thousands of deals, including betrothals and betrayals. He had gotten distracted about his own escape when looking through them all, spending nights and days reading– without sleep, without food. But he was convinced it was what he had to do. The engagement was his fault, of course.

If he had gotten to Wendy quicker– it would have never happened. 

But he had failed her for years. And he had failed her when he had the entire library at his fingertips. So here they were. The air smelled of tea but John had no appetite, as he stared down Thistle like he could disintegrate them on the spot. 

He did not believe, for a second, that Thistle was on their side. He did not trust them. He never would.

But what choice did he have, at this moment, but to work with him? 

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be sitting at this table,” said John swiftly. He finally looked away from Thistle. God, the arse deserved a punch in his self-righteous jaw. 

“There is a way,” he said to Wendy. “Your deal might be a strong one, but there’s always a loophole when it comes to fae deals. We’ve just got to– be smarter than the Queen. You’ve done it once. So we can do it again. We just… need to find precedent, perhaps.There are plenty of stories out there about magical betrothals.” 

JANE: Or we could just kill him, Jane wanted to say. That would be the easiest thing to do, wouldn’t it? Easier than trying to outsmart some all-powerful Fae Queen, easier than breaking a magical engagement. She did not say that, though, because she was not stupid. If they were to go with this plan, then Thistle couldn’t know.

She doubted her cousins would, though. Even if it was easy, it was not smart. Jane knew that Thistle was much more powerful than the imposter Wendy they’d killed in December. They were outmatched, even if she somehow convinced John Smith to help them again. 

“We’ll pool all the information we know.” Jane flicked her eyes to the fae, fixing them with a steely gaze, and then lifted her tea cup to her lips, giving it a gentle blow. “Now’s not the time to withhold anything.”

She did not want to say more, because she did not trust them at all, but it was in all their benefit to 

“We’ll start with books, but we should think about where else to look — perhaps people we can talk to about this.” She paused, pursing her lips. “Though, we should all discuss who we talk to and what we tell them — I don’t think it’s smart to go around telling the full truth.” 

WENDY: It was tense, which was expected, Wendy couldn’t say she trusted Thistle but she knew she trusted them more than her family did. But it would take all of them. What John learned, What Thistle already knew, Jane’s out of the box thinking. Wendy wasn’t sure what she brought to the table.

She wasn’t sure she could benefit anyone at all, besides maybe making sure they didn’t kill one another…. Well at least her family. Thistle looked at them like mice.

“Neither of us wish to be wed to one another. You can trust that this is in their best interest.” As long as it was Thistle was on their side. “Belle stole a book from the Queen’s library, while Jane and I should not be the ones to talk to her about it, Perhaps John you may have better luck? I’m afraid any connections I’ve made in this town will not be any help.” But Wendy had spent many years fooling the Queen, she could think like her. She was basically trained by her in her formative years after all.

“I have the deal memorized so I can write it down so we can analyze the words as well.”

THISTLE: Stories and books.

Thistle wanted to laugh at these children, playing at their fairytales. Yes, Elfhamian deals often had loopholes, but this was a marriage contract. A contract drawn up by the queen. His grandmother was not playing the same game as the rest of them. Wendy and Thistle had been barely outrunning her for the last ten years almost and they had both suffered for it. His pride was not so strong as to think that he could defeat her. 

The mortals had their hubris. It would probably get them killed.

His eyebrows raised hearing that Belle had stolen a book from the library. She was certainly a bold little thing. Had lied right to his and Briar’s face. He wondered if his cousin knew she’d broken their deal. Not that Thistle much cared. Especially not if it would help. 

“I doubt that will do much good,” Thistle told Wendy. “Books and words are one thing. What we need is magic. There is a cursebreaker in town. We should speak with him.” 

JOHN: Books and words were magic. 

That was proven by this contract alone and by the nature of the fae– so powerful, only words sometimes could bind them and cripple them in the same measure. And so yes, other magic might be the solution to countering the magic of the High Fey - the magic of words - but John still trusted he’d find that solution in books. 

But Jane was right. They’d talk to people too– subject matter experts. He’d been in university long enough to understand the power of an informed source. 

Besides, as this conversation went on, it was clear that they’d be pulled in many different directions, grasping for just about any lead they could get their hands on. More hands in the kitchen, this time around, might be better. More eyes. More brains. Though John resented that Thistle was one of ‘em. He’d bloody rather… actually, maybe he would tell Ting-Ting, though first he’d talk to Wendy to make sure that was alright.

Just Ting-Ting though. And just to help out. 

“It sounds like we should all split up then,” John said. “I can talk to Belle. You could go see the cursebreaker– Reza, right? There’s also Howl Pendragon, he’s extremely powerful. He has a reputation for great feats of magic. I wouldn’t count out Pride University’s archives either. It’s a very, very old university, there could be more documentation there than we realize. It just takes some digging.” 

His nails tapped on the table. 

“I think it goes without saying though that we need to be discreet. I don’t want Michael hearing about any of this.” 

JANE: Jane did not like this list of names. She did not like the fact that they would have to talk to Belle or Reza or Howl Pendragon. She did not trust sorcerers and she did not trust Belle. Not that she disliked any of them, really. She just… did not trust them. But then again, they did not have to trust any of them to get information. And then again, it had been Jane’s idea to talk to people and then again, Jane probably would’ve suggested this same list, though perhaps she would’ve quietly added John Smith, Phillip Knightley, and Thomas Harrington to it, along with that scrawny boy that Belle had dragged along with her last time. And also Ting-Ting. Jane didn’t trust sorcerers, but for some reason she did trust Ting-Ting, if only because she knew John did. 

But her name was absent from John’s list, the same way Jane had not mentioned John Smith.She would tell her cousins that they should talk to him. Eventually. Wendy would understand. He’d come with them to kill the changeling, after all. She tapped her foot slightly, already dreading that conversation. 

All of this would involve swallowing pride and she would do so, like it was a piece of gum that she had to force down to hide from her teachers. She would talk to Howl Pendragon, to Belle, to Reza if it meant getting Wendy out of this bind.

At John’s next words, though, Jane nodded.

“Absolutely,” said Jane. “Danny as well — they already helped us with the changeling and with getting you back. And that was dangerous enough. This is — this is more.” She curled her fingers into a fist. “We can’t risk either of them getting hurt.”

WENDY: Wendy nodded, she could not mind bringing in the boys but she worried about them as well. Everyone in this room was jaded and tainted by darkness. If she could protect them even from a fraction of that, it felt worth it.

“A cursebreaker most likely needs to see the Magic so that will be something I can do.” Thistle wouldn’t want to out their magic so Wendy wouldn’t put him in that kind of situation. They didn’t need to risk that.

“No matter what, we need to be discreet with Nimble in town. I have no problem keeping Michael and Danny from him and in turn this.” Breaking the engagement could be a million times risker than the changeling and getting John back. She was sure the Queen expected those pieces. They were just moves in the game not yet checkmate.

THISTLE: Thistle found this trite and very boring. What was that funny Mundus saying?

This could’ve been an email.

Obviously they needed to keep this a secret. Obviously they shouldn’t tell a child. Thistle hadn’t even told Wendy their intentions to break the engagement until she had mentioned it first and then they had agreed. Even though Thistle had already been working towards this and nothing had moved yet. 

“We should be less worried about them getting hurt and more worried about exposing our plan to anyone who might make it back to the Queen. I’d like to think that no one here needs warning of what may befall all of you, if this were to go badly.”

All of them. Not Thistle. They would be fine, obviously. Betrayal was part of the language of Elfhame courts. Perhaps they’d be punished, but they were a crowned prince. None of this affected them. Unless Wendy and Thistle married. Then, things would be much more dire. For now, they were not worried. A solution would present itself. There was always a loophole. Always potential. 

JOHN: Hmm, and who could make that work out for themselves the most, Thistle? 

John did not say this. John did not look toward Thistle. But he thought it, keeping his distrust as close to his chest as he could. He had spent over a year in Elfhame where he had also learned about their little games and traditions. In a way, if you didn’t at least try to betray a friend, you weren’t fi to hold power. That was the values that those in Elfhame held. And so while they had a long to-do list, John put one thing more on his own: keep an eye on Thistle. 

At least for now, they were allies though. As far as Wendy was concerned. 

Maybe he should talk to Wendy more though about that…relationship. It might help him prepare for the worst. 

DANNY: The train ride home from London the day after the wedding was quiet. It wasn’t a long ride, enough for Danny to get a few hundred pages of a book for class read. They got home late, so everyone just…said their goodnights and went to bed. Danny lingered a bit in the hallway, watching Jane’s retreating back and wondering if he should say anything to her. Not just because of what had happened yesterday, but also--

It had been a year since John disappeared. Went missing. That meant something, didn’t it? He kind of wanted to talk about it, but it seemed like no one else wanted to. Which was fine. Maybe.

Danny went to bed that night and slept fitfully and woke when the sun did. He didn’t get out of bed at first. The air was crisp and it was nice to be in his familiar bed. He hadn’t been home in almost a year, after never having been gone longer than a week school trip to France, or vacations when he had been very little with the whole family (including his dad.) He dozed for a few more hours, before finally getting out of bed around 10am, when he heard someone clattering around in the kitchen. 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he entered the kitchen to the smell of coffee. Jane’s back was to him, rummaging through a cabinet. 

“Morning,” he mumbled, dragging himself to a bar stool and slumping onto it. “Is Mum awake?”

JANE: Jane still felt rather numb about this whole thing.

Oh, she had no doubt it would sink in later — that she’d find herself making a stupid decision on a late night and regretting it come morning. 

But for now, she was in her childhood home and whenever she returned to her childhood home, she always felt like she was trapped in some sort of limbo — like an insect preserved forever in amber, retreating to a version of herself that was frozen in time, forever a sullen fifteen year old girl who had to tiptoe around her entire family and do her best to tread water so that she could survive. 

That was rather dramatic to start the day, Jane thought to herself, as she sipped on her coffee. She heard Danny come down the stairs, and she turned around.

If there was one thing that snapped Jane out of her weird time slip, it was seeing Danny — now tall and grown and definitely not the little kid he’d been. The sharp winter sunlight coming in through the window jolted Jane back to her senses. It was 2021, not 2011. She had a quagmire of feelings to wade through, but not the ones she’d already dealt with a decade ago.

She greeted Danny with a lift of her mug, then gestured to the coffee maker, raising her eyebrow in question, as she answered his. 

“Yeah, she was up a little earlier. Said she was off to the store to get something for your stocking.” She paused, then shrugged. “I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that, but … there you  have it.” 

DANNY: “Oh, uh, cool,” Danny said, nodding for the coffee and watching as Jane went about pouring him a mug. 

He felt awkward. There were a million things he felt like they should talk about, considering the first time it had been the two of them since everything had happened at the wedding. Should he check in with her? If he did, would she tell the truth? And if not, what was the point? She seemed fine. And if she wasn’t, she probably didn’t want to talk to her little brother about it. 

The air felt heavy. Everything felt heavy. He was exhausted, feeling like he was carrying something that wasn’t even his. Especially having to pretend in front of his mum like everything was fine. He had never lied to his mum before and it had been easy over the phone, but looking at her face and doing it? He’d been avoiding her. Feeling guilty. 

Jane placed his mug in front of him and Danny drew it toward him, looking up at her. 

“Thanks. You, uh, haven’t told Mum anything yet, have you? About, uh, yknow.” Danny winced a little. Did Jane even know? Did she consider how their mum might feel about the fact Danny had lied? (Danny wondered, because he used to get angry with Jane for not caring enough about how their mum felt about things. Not that he had ever confronted Jane about that.) 

JANE: Jane shook her head. She had not told their mother, nor was she planning on telling their mother for quite some time. Jane often did not tell her mother things. It was something she’d learned as a teenager — to shoulder her own problems and handle them herself. 

There’d been a few times in the past where she’d let something slip — that she was struggling to pay attention in school or that one of the girls on the track team had called her names — and her mother would try to fix it, only the problem was that Jane and her mother had very different ways of fixing things. They’d fight. They’d butt heads. Her mother would get stressed that Jane was not happy and Jane would get angry at her mother for being stressed and then her mother would get upset at Jane for getting frustrated with her and then Jane would feel guilty and she did not do well with feeling guilty and  — well, it ended up being a terrible cycle. Once that meant yelling, then it meant silence and sulking, and then, slowly, Jane learned to keep her problems quiet. 

It was better that way. They did not fight as much now. Their relationship was the best it had ever been, in fact. She told her mother things when they mattered. She called about once a week and gave a very limited report on her studies and sometimes what she was doing that weekend or what she had watched or read that she thought her mum might like. 

They were not close. Not as close as Jane had been with her father. Jane didn’t think they’d ever be that close, but at least they  

“I have not,” said Jane. She took a sip of her coffee. “I… She would worry.” She did not look at Danny, though she could feel his eyes on her. “I don’t want her to worry.” 

On the counter, her phone buzzed. Jane peered over at it to see a message from their mum.

“She wants to know if you’re up,” she said, flicking her gaze to Danny. “Since she’s coming in with a gift for you and wants to know if she should keep it in her purse. I’ll tell her to hide it.” 

DANNY: Danny’s brow furrowed at Jane as he kept his hands around the warm mug she had given him. She didn’t want Mum to worry? That was new. At least, as far as Danny was concerned, because it seemed to him that Jane didn’t care if Mum worried. That was what their fights had always been to Danny. 

Mum worrying about Jane and Jane hating that someone was trying to take care of her. He had never understood it. To him, having someone care about you was the nicest feeling in the whole world. Nothing made you feel more safe or loved than knowing someone was there, looking out for you. But Jane had always been made of tougher stuff than Danny. He admired her for it. Even when it hurt their mum, who only ever worried because she cared. 

Though, Danny supposed he understood, in this context, why it was better not to say anything. That worry wasn’t productive in the context of the fae and Danny having been in Swynlake. These things had already happened. It would only hurt her to know. 

That didn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at him and the panic from rising when Jane said that Mum was on her way back. 

“Yeah, uh, okay,” Danny said, his voice tightening slightly. He took a sip of his coffee. The only sound in the kitchen was the drip from the coffee maker and the call of seagulls outside the window. 

“How do you keep a secret like this?” Danny blurted, shattering the easy morning. He winced but his anxiety was still buzzing as he looked desperately to his sister. 

JANE: Jane had been about to slip into Mum mode — where she was perfectly agreeable, but definitely sanded off the rougher edges of her personality — when Danny blurted out what he did. She paused, glaring at him, her eyebrows knitted together.

“Just pretend. Like in your improv shows.”

“Danny! Do not look, I am coming to put your present in your stocking. Cover your eyes!” The door slammed shut and in walked their mother, clutching what looked like a tiny arcade machine to her chest. Jane wondered why she did that, considering she’d just texted her mum to keep the gift in her purse, but whatever. It wasn’t logical, but her mum looked quite gleeful, smiling and lifting a single finger to her mouth in a “shh” motion as she looked at Jane, then skittered over to the fireplace, where she slipped the game into Danny’s stocking.

There were three stockings hung over the fireplace, but only Jane’s and Danny’s were full. Jane felt a pang in her heart looking at her mother’s near empty stocking. She made a note to buy some chocolates or something.

“Okay — you can open your eyes.” Their mother walked back to them, grabbing her own mug and filling it with hot water from the kettle. She’d never been a coffee person. “Danny, can you grab the box of black tea from the top shelf? We’re almost out in the box.” She tapped the wooden box on the counter, then looked from Jane to Danny. “Jane, why do you look so angry? Smile! It’s Christmas.”

“I’ll get there.” Jane raised her mug. “Give me half a cup more.” 

DANNY: Danny scowled at Jane for that answer, making a sort of little brother face at her that he rarely made. But she was being so glib about this! Like his improv shows. It made him want to scoff. Hadn’t she seen him at his improv shows? He was terrible at improv! How could she say that and mean it? Because of course Jane meant it. To her, this was all as easy and funny as an improv show. It wasn’t life changing, horrible lies! 

It felt like life changing, horrible lies to Danny. And now they were all bubbling on the tip of his tongue right as the door opened and his mother bustled in. He barely had time to squeeze his eyes shut before he heard his mum enter the room. His ears were bright red and he felt awful. Like the worst son ever. 

He was still stiff as anything when his mum asked him to get the tea. “Oh, uh--yeah.” He felt like his joints were creaking with the weight of his lies as he moved, passing a look with Jane as he moved around her to reach up to grab the tea. 

“Here you go, Mum,” Danny murmured, not look at his mother as he handed them off.

“Oh, it’s so nice to have you both home,” his mum said, wrapping her arm around his waist and giving him a squeeze. “I missed you both, so much! Danny, you have to tell me all about your trip, you’ve been so coy.” 

Danny shot a desperate look at Jane. 

JANE: Jane normally considered herself a morning person, but right now, she was reminded that usually it was because she spent her mornings in blissful solitude. Not that she didn’t like to see her mum and her brother, but Danny was being very skittish right now and she knew he was about two seconds away from telling their mother that they had murdered a fae. 

As long as they kept the conversation on Danny’s fake trip abroad, everything would go smoothly.

Except — well, Jane didn’t know how much Danny actually knew about the Czech Republic and honestly, he probably should’ve picked a different country.

“Oh yes, you were telling me about the monument in Old Town Square,” said Jane, hand feeding Danny here. “The one they erected in memory of the Battle of Prague? I wish I could’ve seen it — I don’t really do much before the 20th century for my studies, but the Thirty Years’ War is fascinating.” 

She nodded at Danny.

“What was, er, that one museum you mentioned?”

DANNY: Oh, thank god. Jane was helping him. He wasn’t sure if she would. There was a possibility that he would flounder on his own and she would just sip her coffee, amused that he’d gotten himself into this mess. He had learned a long time ago not to count on his big sister for much of anything. 

But he was grateful now. 

It wasn’t like Danny hadn’t done his research! He had lied  convincingly for almost a year now. But usually when he was on his phone with his mum, he was also Googling “things to do in the Czech Republic” so that he could make up a story. Not sitting across from his mum at the kitchen counter with her warm eyes and gentle, expectant smile. 

“Oh, uh—it was er—I can’t remember it’s name because it’s in…Czech, y’know?” Was it hot in here? Danny was pretty sure it was getting hot in here. Maybe it was his coffee. 

“What was your favorite object?” his mum asked, sipping her coffee. 

She knew. She must know. Danny was sure she knew. 

“I, uh—“ 

JANE: “There’s lots of cool stuff there, yeah?” Jane tried to offer Danny a lifesaver here. While she could pull out some military facts about the Czech Republic from the back of her head, she didn’t really know the specific inventories of specific museums — and she’d been hoping that Danny had, like, at least researched something before coming home. 

She racked her brain as she sipped her coffee, trying to think of something.

“Oh, there was that, uh, saber? Used by that one general.” She cursed to herself, knowing that John would probably know the exact name of the sword she was thinking of. She did not know why that popped into her head, but she shook it away and looked at Danny, hoping that this was something. “And there was that art museum, too!”

There — that was something Danny ought to know more about, right? Maybe he could think of a painting and they could leave it at that. 

“Show me your pictures from the Antonín Dvořák Museum!” said their mother. “You never post from your trip — Jane, tell him he should send me more pictures. I like all the ones you send.” 

Jane looked into her coffee and did not answer. 

DANNY: Danny was frozen. 

You would think he would have prepared for this, but he hadn’t. He had thought he’d get away with things by being vague. That was what Jane had done. When she’d come home after her first trip abroad, Danny had been so excited, wanting to know everything about her adventures. But, he had received a cold shoulder and a few stories that, looking back on it, probably weren’t true. But he’d been young and foolish then. Now, there wasn’t any excuse. 

And Danny wasn’t Jane. As much as he sometimes wished he could be. He wasn’t good at brushing people off. Shrugging and saying: it was fine. Or even coming up with a lie that he had been having so much fun, he hadn’t taken any pictures. 

Instead, he just sat there. Frozen, staring at his mum. Jane wasn’t looking at him either when he darted his eyes towards her. 

“Come, Danny. I have been so curious,” his mum prompted. 

Danny felt his palms begin to sweat around his coffee mug. He felt like he was going to break out into hives. “I—I—“

“What’s wrong?” His mum’s brow furrowed. 

His sister and cousin could be brave enough to face a fae, to kill a fae. And Danny couldn’t even lie to his mum. 

“I haven’t been traveling. I have been in Swynlake. Ever since I left last year. I enrolled in PrideU and have been living in the dorms. I wanted to help find John. It didn’t feel right—not helping. I couldn’t go travel when he was—I am really sorry. I just—“ tears brimmed in his eyes “—wanted to be brave.” 

JANE: Jane knew it was going to happen before it did. It was like watching dominos fall. Danny couldn’t lie. Danny couldn’t lie in person, not to their mum who looked so eager and happy right now. She’d kinda known it would come to light some time over the holidays for this reason, but she’d been hoping that Danny could at least make it to Christmas.

She had, clearly, forgot to factor in the stress of the wedding (and by wedding, she meant killing the Fae).

“Danny!” gasped their mother. “Jane — you knew?”

“It’s alright, Mum,” said Jane, quickly. “He’s been in Swynlake with me and Wendy. We’ve taken care of him. He’s made loads of friends and he’s doing well in school. He’s been a great help to us and I promise — he’s been safe. I’ve been keeping him safe.” 

There was a moment of silence. Their mother looked from Danny to Jane and then back again. Jane half-expected her to yell and half-expected her to twist her face into a silent, cold anger and turn everything in the room icy. But instead, her lip wobbled. When she spoke next, her voice was small. 

“Why didn’t either of you tell me? You were together? This whole time? And you didn’t tell me…?” She wasn’t looking at Jane anymore, but Danny. 

DANNY: It wasn’t even an option: Danny started crying at once. Big, hot tears that rolled down his cheeks. He reached up to try and scrub them away, feeling like a little kid. His mother had never really yelled at him, because Danny had always seen her yelling at Jane and had found it scary. So, he’d always followed the rules…unless, of course, Jane was doing something cool and Danny wanted to be involved. 

That is what this felt like: Danny, trying to be as cool as Jane. Going to Swynlake. Saying he was there to help save John, even though he had no skill sets to bring to the table. He wasn’t even brave or a good liar. 

“I am sorry!” Danny blurted, his voice watery and wobbling. “I-I just didn’t think you’d let me go because it would be dangerous, maybe. But—after John—and I didn’t want Jane and Wendy to be alone and…I dunno by the time I got there I was already in too deep and I didn’t want to upset you o-or get in trouble.”

Danny glanced at Jane. I just wanted to be brave and cool, like Jane. He knew he shouldn’t say that. This wasn’t Jane’s fault. Danny had been the one to lie. He should be to blame. 

“D-don’t be mad at Jane. I-I asked her not to tell you.”

JANE: “He’s been entirely safe with me,” Jane said. “And he’s been doing well in school. And he’s joined a lot of clubs and stuff. He’s made friends.”

She didn’t know what else to say to her mother to make her feel  better, other than… it was nice to have Danny around. She enjoyed having him around. She liked that he came over for dinner and that between the two of them and Wendy and Napoleon, they had their own little family in Swynlake. 

“I’m not mad at Jane,” said their mother. Her eyes were big and Jane could see tears brimming in the corners. “I’m not even mad at you, Danny… I just…” And she pressed a hand to her heart in such a way that Jane felt her own face soften. “I would’ve let you go, Danny. Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

“Because of me,” said Jane and she felt those words like a bitter pill in the back of her mouth, an aspirin she’d kept in for too long. She flicked her gaze to her mother. “Because of how I left and how I … did it.” With tears. With shouting. With coldness and silence. Jane could handle all of that on her own, but it had infected her family now and she couldn’t handle that.

She’d spent all these years trying to hold everything in and just not address it, hoping that by being civil and polite and cordial, they could all maintain a relationship — but maybe that was the very thing that was causing this all to crumble. The reason Danny lied, the reason their mother was hurt in the first place.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault. Please — don’t be upset at Danny.”

“I’m not! I’m not upset at anyone — I’m just — “ And her voice cracked here and she looked up at the ceiling in the way she did when she was trying not to cry. “ — sad.”

There was silence.  

“Mum,” said Jane, her voice gentler than she expected it to be. She was the only one not crying at this point, which was typical, but at the same time, it was harder than it’d ever been. She cleared her throat a little, turning her head slightly. “We should’ve told you. It wasn’t fair.”

DANNY: Danny knew that his mum wasn’t going to be mad. That wasn’t exactly what he was afraid of. He was afraid of--her disappointment. Or…okay, maybe he thought she’d be a little mad. A year out from him making the decision in the first place, he realized that…maybe he should have just told her from the start. But the truth was: he had thought she would yell at him. Or that she’d be disappointed in him for going. That she would be worried about him. That it would be a fight. It was just instinct to try and stop that from happening. 

It didn’t matter, though, because his mom was still disappointed. She was still sad. 

Danny’s head ducked and he scrubbed at his face, trying to get ahold of his tears. He felt like a baby. Like a little kid. Jane wasn’t crying. He shouldn’t either. His gaze flicked wearily towards his sister as she spoke about--when she’d left.

They’d never really talked about it. Not as a family. Danny had asked Jane about it only once. Asked her why she’d left and she had just told him something about needing to. When he said he didn’t understand, she’d snapped at him and Danny decided that maybe he didn’t need to understand. Jane was Jane and she needed to leave. He’d asked his mum about it too, or--he’d apologized for Jane, all those years ago. Said that she needed to leave, but that he was still there.

That he wouldn’t leave.

And then he did. 

The weight of that felt heavy on his shoulders and there were several moments of silence while he sniffled and tried to compose himself. 

“I’m sorry, Mum. I just wanted to help--I-I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” His rubbed his sweater sleeve across his face and sat up. “It just…I thought Jane…” might need me. “I didn’t think she should…have to do it alone.” 

JANE: Shouldn’t have to do it alone.

Something about those words made Jane feel like she’d been hit square in the chest. 

Because that’s what John had done in the end, yeah? He’d done it alone. He’d told no one about what he wanted to do, bottled it up for years and years. Jane lived with him. She got tea with him and ate meals with him and shared her own stupid, foolish dreams of treasure hunting with him — and yet, still, he’d kept this quest to himself and he walked out into the fog alone. 

This was not something anyone could do alone.

Jane needed Danny. Jane needed Wendy and Micheal. But most of all, she needed Danny. Her brother. Her brother who’d lied to their mother, because he just wanted to help. Because he didn’t want her to be alone. Her brother, who was the best of all of them. Her brother, who she could not find a way to tell that because for whatever reason she did not know how. 

Her brother who — who was crying. 

Jane stood up. She walked over to him and she … she put a hand on his shoulder. She patted his back once. Twice. She let her hand rest on it. She blinked. Her eyes felt wet. 

“It’s good you have each other,” said their mother, after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I’m not mad… I…” Jane looked at her and she wished she could say something comforting, but she didn’t know how. 

“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, we can video call you together,” Jane said, instead. She held onto Danny’s shoulder, because somehow that was steadying her, even though he was crying. “And … we’ll visit more.” 

“I’m glad you have each other,” said their mother, again. “I am so glad for it.” And she took a step forward, wrapping her arms around the both of them, so that they were all pulled into a hug. She was a small woman, so that meant leaning down and a lot of elbows bumping into each other, but it wasn’t all terrible. In fact, Jane thought it was quite nice. 

Jane closed her eyes. She hugged her mum back.

“I’ll call more,” she said, softly. “I’ll visit more.”

It’s my fault we’re like this, she thought, but she didn’t want to say it, because Danny was still crying and she just wanted him to be okay. 

DANNY:

Jane rested her hand on his back and Danny froze. Not because he didn’t want her to touch him, but because it surprised him. He couldn’t remember the last time Jane had comforted him. Even when they were little, she hadn’t been the warm sort. When he fell and scraped his knees and started crying she just hauled him up and brushed him off and pulled him into a run. There were pirates chasing them, after all. 

He had always laughed so hard he forgot the pain and the blood dribbling down his leg until they tumbled back into the house and he saw the dried evidence of it. 

The wounds had stopped healing. Eventually. They always scabbed over, sure, but it wasn’t that hard to break them open again. Missing his dad, missing his sister. Missing the person his mum used to be. The rosy childhood in his memories. He could learn all about how people could be convinced that they committed a crime they hadn’t committed. So what was to say he hadn’t fashioned himself a childhood that didn’t actually exist? That didn’t make it any easier to not miss.

He didn’t know if having Jane here now, her hand on his shoulder, made the missing less. If it stopped the bleeding. He could imagine that she was going to pull him away. Into a run again and they could go back to imagining pirates, not childhoods that didn’t exist. 

Before they can run, his mother’s arms are around him and he finds he his hugging her back. One of his arms around his mother, one around his sister. They are both smaller than him. The last time this happened, he was smaller than both of them. 

Danny didn’t know when, but at some point, he stopped crying. He kissed the top of his mum’s head. He squeezed Jane’s shoulder.