Chapter Text
Emma thought she'd known Wayhaven's forests. They'd been a frequent haunt for local teenagers long before she was old enough to walk herself home back down the sprawling dirt paths. It hadn't been uncommon to see families trek a ways off the designated walks to enjoy picnics in the summer or spot the occasional winter bonfire in the early hours of dawn (and confiscate the moonshine that always accompanied them). The latter had always resulted in accidentally scarring the crap out of more than a couple kids back when she was on active duty, chasing up nervous phonecalls from parents.
Nothing unexpected or truly worrisome.
The woods had almost felt like a second home in that regard. A hint of the quiet unknown and yet never truly unfamilar cradling the rim of her sleepy town.
This, however?
Emma cranes her head up and tries to find the tops of the towering pines and thick oaks. Tips her head further and further back but there is nothing but the sheer, dizzying height and the prickle of her skin and the cold ache of wind lashing through her hair, filling her lungs like the torrent of a river when she opens her mouth. It's peculiar, to feel a tingle of fear at thought of breathing. To feel as though your jaw was being pried apart by phantom fingers and all you can do is gasp and choke against the gale crawling down your throat to nest in your lungs.
This, she thinks dizzily, may be what drowning feels like.
A hand. Warm, large, familiar. The panic Emma hadn't even realised was building eases suddenly. There's a hand gripping her wrist and an outline filled with blurry swathes of grey and gold and dark green. Firm words cutting through the wail of the wind.
"Breathe through your nose and then exhale," Adam commands, green eyes piercing and far closer than she'd thought. The surity and calm of those words though strikes true. She inhales shakily, closing her eyes and the hand upon her arm tightens a little further. It's kind of him to worry.
Calm down. You need to stay rational, calm down.
She hears him snarl something suddenly at the surrounding forest and clamps down on the instinctive prickle of fear that rises in response.
To Emma's utter shock the roar of the wind quietens to a gentle breeze. Adam scoffs, glower fixed upon...something apparently in the tree line. Something she missed (can't see?), didn't account for. She remembers the phantom sensation of fingers at her jaw with a sickening jolt, that easy strength hooked firm into her flesh and prying even bone apart.
"What -," Emma blinks as the cold ebbs from her lungs. She thumbs the volt gun still strapped to her belt as she turns to face Adam, a faint panic tingling at her fingertips. "What the hell was that?"
"Fae most likely. They've staked a claim not far from the perimeter it seems," Her teamate's gaze doesn't waver from the surrounding forest.
"Fae? Rebecca said there were no other supernatural residencies within ten miles of Falk's settlement,"
"Not bound by an Agency treaty or known of, no. These didn't appear to have even encountered the Agency though, let alone seen a human. They panicked." The words are terse and Adam's scowl turns thunderous on the last note as he glowers at the trees, somewhere between professionally unimpressed and just plain cranky if she had to guess.
Emma can't help but smile. It feels unreasonably nice to be thought of as part of the team. Part of something worth...protecting.
"Thank you," She says, raising her hand with his fingers still curled gently around her wrist and giving them both a small shake for emphasis, "for before,"
Adam's eyes flick to their hands and a peculiar expression she doesn't quite know what to make of flashes across his face before he jolts, pulling his hand away so suddenly he manages to punch himself in the thigh as he steps firmly outside of her space. The warmth of his hand fades as quickly as the faint flush she can feel crawling up her neck.
Wonderful, now she's made it awkward.
Adam clears his throat as she opens her mouth to. To what? Apologise? For a poorly thought out joke?
"We should -," He starts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "The perimeter needs to be secured before nightfall. We can deal with the fae later,"
The perimeter? Falk! Shit, what is she doing? Get your head screwed on, Langford.
"Right," She nods, striding on ahead and after a heartbeat, hears him follow.
They pick their way across the path in relative silence but for their footfalls on the forest floor and the shriek of cicadas as evening descends. They don't need to talk, of course. After all, Emma had always preferred a quieter work environment if one had a choice (and one frequently Did Not when one was a colleague of Tina Poname, as dear a friend as she is). And this is work, therefore no need to have clammy palms over a silence that's stretched unbroken for fifteen minutes and counting because you couldn't be normal over holding a colleague's hand. Or, more accurately, said colleague holding your hand.
Her face feels overly warm as she sighs.
Work is, well, perhaps not always easy per se but the expectations were comprehensible. Ascertain your task and plan the best method to achieve it with minimal discomfort to innocent bystanders and maximum efficency. It's why she'd accepted the position of Detective in the first place. Small talk though is...'tedious' isn't correct. Stressful fits better, but not quite. It doesn't quite fit with him. Adam's...expectations - she wrinkles her nose at the phrasing but lets it sit - are confusing. She feels as if she's constantly mistepping with him. Not quite a team member, not quite a colleague, not quite a friend. And what happened after rescuing Sanja -
No. She clamps down on that thought before it can run away from her further. No going there, even in the privacy of her thoughts. It's too dangerous.
"What's the Agency protocal for removing hostile supernaturals that encroach on allocated land?" She asks desperately, hoping it doesn't come across as the distraction it is.
Adam looks at her for a moment, appearing somewhat surprised before rubbing a hand over his chin and frowning.
"They're not inherently hostile, Detective. These were simply isolated and cautious of humans. And not without - " Adam pauses, glancing down before jerking to a stop. His gaze snaps up to meet her own.
"Step back," He barks.
Emma does so without thinking, scanning the ground for a trap or the like. Nothing? Or, shit, perhaps she'd made him uncomfortable by walking too closely and now he won't even look her in the eyes and has to stare at...toadstools? They stretch around his feet like a thread of speckled string and Emma moves to peer around him for a better look. Oddly enough, they stretch into a large ring around him, partially broken where Adam must've kicked one out of the earth as they walked.
Adam stares down at the fungi encircling him with something she would've called horror in anyone else.
"Ask me a question,"
"What?" Emma blinks, frowning at him.
"Ask me a question." There's an urgency to his tone that makes her uneasy, "Something you aren't familiar with about Unit Bravo or the Agency,"
Her skin prickles with a familiar chill as she gazes at the ring and it makes her think of the fae. Of the tangible magic crackling in the air as they'd whipped the elements into a roaring cacophony around them. A fairy ring? Rigged to what - explode? No, don't jump to foolish conclusions, it might not even be dangerous. Adam wouldn't be asking for a simple question if it was. Question....question...something she didn't know. If something like this aligned with the old stories about fairy rings, the benign answer would be that the reaction of the ring would rely on the answer given to a query. A geas.
"Do you..." Adam's green eyes snap up to meet her own and Emma swallows, has to look away, look somewhere beyond his left ear, guilt churning in her stomach. This is stupid, she is being stupid. And selfish. But she needs to know (a lie, a lie, a selfish lie), has since that night so long ago.
"Do you know latin?"
Say no, please say no. You couldn't actually - . I don't know what to do if it's true. It's not true. Or it was a mistake or you mistook me for someone else. But if it was... I don't have a plan. I don't...I'm not....Please, you have to say no.
Adam's expression contorts suddenly as though he'd bitten into a lemon, jaw so tight she thinks he might chip a tooth. A beat of silence follows, heavy as lead and Emma opens her mouth to ask again why on earth he'd wanted a question, wants and dread the thought of being wrong - Oh god, fairy ring please do not explode! - when he exhales the answer, soft and unlike anything she'd heared before.
"Yes,"
Fucking fae.