Chapter Text
It is Flee who finds the boy, wandering through the Tangle Woods on a misty evening. He is soaked to the bone, and warm to the touch. She could leave the boy, let him wander. But the thought is gone before it appears, and she takes him by the hand and leads him back to the cottage.
She watches as they peel off his wet clothes -strange clothes they are, almost glistening, almost a-glimmering – and scrub him clean. Watches as they trim his hair out of his eyes, and tuck him into a warm bed.
She does not miss her parent's hushed whispers, or the way the boy's body shakes with fever.
Her papa has to go into town the next day, and her mama cannot be spared from the chores that still need tending to. So it is Flee who sits by the boy's bedside, tending to him. He needss looking after, after all.
It is not an easy task, to look after him. He sleeps often and eats little. When he does wake, he speaks in strange tongues that she does not know, and his eyes are glazed over, ever so far away from her. Her mama says that his fever has made him mad.
It is two days after they find him that the boy's fever breaks.
“What's your name?” Flee asks him.
The boy furrows his brow. “I... don't know.”
“I should tell Mama that you're awake, then.”
His eyes focus on her. “Alright.”
There are more whispers that night, when her papa comes back. They're important whispers, she thinks, because the boy cannot remember anything. There is a word for it, her papa says, losing all of your memories. But he does not know it.
She looks at the boy, and knows that like her, he has heard every word.
The next morning, she decides that she is tired of calling him 'the boy'. Even if he cannot remember his name, he still needs one. So she sits on the boys bed, and pesters him with names.
“Leeroy.”
The boy's mouth quirks up into a smile. “I don't think that I am a Leeroy.”
“All right then.” She chews her lip, trying to remember all of the names that she has heard. “How about Cuthbert?”
“Definitely not.”
“Easter? Or how about Aster?”
That gets a furrowed brow. “No, I don't think so.” the boy says at last. “It feels... taken.”
Flee beams at that. “Maybe you knew an Aster, then. But you still need a name. Septimus?”
He smiles at that. “That's a bit complicated. Maybe something simpler.”
“At least we're making progress.” she tells him, sticking out her tongue.
“That we are.” He admits.
“What about Lewis?” She asks. “Or Paul, or Amos?”
“A bit boring.” he muses. “Not bad names, the length is nice, though.”
“How about something like Fowler, or Oliver, or Jackson, then? Those are bit more exciting.”
The boy swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I think that I like Jackson best. It's still a bit long, though.”
Flee grins. “Jack, then. For short.”
He smiles back at her. “It fits, too. I'm like a Jack-in-the-box. All of my memories are locked away, and who knows when they'll spring out.”
That evening, her parents are surprised and pleased to find out that they've managed to work out something to call Jack.
Her father gives a long look at her mother, and then at Jack. “We've been looking to try to find your family.” He tells the boy. “But no children fitting your description have gone missing, or been stolen. I am afraid that we may not be able to find them, especially considering your lack of memories.”
Jack's face falls slightly at that. “I... thank you. For looking. I hadn't even thought to.”
Her mother clears her throat. “You're welcome to stay for lodging here until your memories return, if you'd like. Or we could take you to the chapel, and speak to the pastor.”
Flee grips Jack's arm tightly. He has only been there a few days, but already, she hates the thought of him leaving. Seeing the pastor is a good idea, she knows. It's easier than working on the farm, and he might get his memories back faster too. He could even look for Aster, whoever Aster is.
“I think I'd like to stay, if that's alright.” Jack says. “I need to repay you for looking after me, after all.”
Flee can see the surprise on her parent's faces at the answers. Can see the relief. But somehow, for a moment, none of that matters. Because for now, Jack is staying.