Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Hi.

Gabriel said I should talk to someone.

I don’t think this is what he meant, but it’s as good as it’s going to get. I do still remember what Mary told me.

So.
Arran is at school again, still studying to be a doctor. The war only made him want it more, I think. He was thinking about stalling so he could be with me, but I wouldn't let him do that. I have Gabriel. That’s more than I had before.
Gabriel says that they’ll have to stop hunting me now, but I’m not so sure.
I know how this sounds, but I don’t know if I want it to stop. I can’t remember a time when I haven’t been running. I’m afraid I won’t know who I am when I’m not in motion.
…
We’re supposed to get somewhere to stay, the two of us.
I want to be away, near the woods. Gabriel wants to be with me. He’s looking into places in Wales, asking his contacts.
Van is picking up the pieces we shattered, along with Celia and Nesbitt at her side.
I’ve seen Ellen a few times since everything cooled down. She bought me a hot chocolate and a cookie for old time’s sake. I didn’t get sick this time.
She’s finishing school too, thinking about university. Whatever she decides, she’ll be fantastic at it.
You would love her, I know it. She’s one of my favorite people.
One in three. Or four, if I count you, of course.
I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I never planned for this.
Not being hunted…
I never thought that would happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi again.
We’ve found a place now.
We have a little cottage in Wales. It has a tiny kitchen, a tiny bathroom, and a bedroom with a threadbare sofa and a chimney that smokes often. The bed is bare: we’ve pulled the mattress outside, protected mostly by the roof and the trees. We’ve bought a lot of very warm blankets and quilts. No sheepskin.
My problems with electricity have gotten worse since Marcus died. It hurts my head sometimes just to be near telephone wires, and going into the city is almost as horrible as a night indoors.
We don’t have a fridge, so we use an ice box. We keep it locked up outside, and usually it’s cold enough that everything keeps. We don’t have much, other than what I hunt—some milk or Gabriel’s coffee, some butter and cheese and eggs for breakfast. He’s taken a liking to ice cream, although it’s a bit too sweet for me. Raspberry is his favorite.
He makes bread every other day, when he has time. Lately he’s been getting up later in the morning, so he has to rush to work. I made a cut for him near our house so he can get there quickly.
“You don’t have to,” he’d told me. He knows how I struggle with Marcus’ Gifts.
“How else are you going to get there?” I asked, and made the cut. It was the last time before now that I purposely used a Gift other than my own. I could make excuses, but really I’m just avoiding them.
He uses all the hot water for his showers, and he leaves the kitchen a mess after hurrying through breakfast. But no matter how late he is, he always leaves out a plate for me, full of whatever he made for himself as well.
He says he doesn’t mind his job. He works at a bakery in the morning and early afternoon, and then works as a French tutor in the evenings. And I think he means it when he says it, but he deserves to do something he loves, not something he tolerates.
This is so strange, my life now.
This place is ours.
I’m not alone anymore.
Deb, I have people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wish you could have met Gabriel.
He’s beautiful, really. His eyes are dark like the coffee he loves, with gold flecks in them like no Witch I’ve ever seen. And they’re such kind eyes.
He smiles all the time. I used to hate it. I wasn’t used to that much happiness, I guess—it confused me, made me think he was hiding something. But now I love it. I want him to smile more.
He’s so smart. Smart like you are.
We’ve talked about his love of books before. He’s told me what it’s like to read. How he feels like he’s getting to know someone before they’ve even met, how the characters tell him about the author, how the characters show him things about himself.
How they teach him to be a better person, a stronger person, a more thoughtful person.
He’s told me he’s lived so many different lives within the pages of his books. And when he reads to me, we both can.
He’s so smart. He’s so much smarter than I’ll ever be.
He wanted to go to college once, he told me. But after Michele, he couldn’t continue his studies. And then after he turned himself fain, well, getting his Gift back took priority over everything else.
What was David like?
Was he smart like you two are?
I bet he was. You’d never settle for anything less.
I hope he made you happy. You don’t deserve anything else.

I’m so sorry.
Deb, I’m so sorry.
I miss you.
I love you.
I wish I’d gotten the chance to say that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve found a good place for us to talk.
I’ve been going into the woods every day, mostly after Gabriel leaves for work, but sometimes, if it’s a bad day, I leave before he wakes up. Sometimes I’m the animal, but mostly I’m not, unless I’m hunting.
A few miles into the woods away from our cottage there’s an old cemetery. It’s all overgrown, and you can only see the top half of the worn gravestones, because the ground has built up around them. There’s moss covering most of the names and dates, but sometimes I can make out letters. I found one with a capital D, pretty close to a tree I can sit on.
I wish I had something more solid for you, but I guess this will have to do. I don’t know what they did to you after you died. But at least here I feel closer to you than before, somehow.
I’ve changed a lot since we last spoke. I think by now you know that. Celia probably told you a lot.
I’ve killed people. I have Gifts that aren’t my own.
I don’t want to talk about this, but I think I have to start being honest. I tried to hide myself from Annalise, and that didn’t work. And it’s not like you’re really here.
Alright.
It was a few weeks after Marcus died. The Alliance was still frantic and, with what little numbers we had left, picked up and moved almost every day to try to evade Hunters.
Jessica is very good at her job, Deb.
Did you see her? Before Hunters killed you and David?
I know why she hates me so much. I don’t understand where it came from inside her. But I hate her back. And I’m sorry you were our fallout.
I never meant to hurt anyone. I was just trying to survive.
So.
They found us.
Thankfully for the Alliance, “us” wasn’t a very large group. Just Gabriel and I. We’d been sent out to get food. How was up to us, as long as it was enough to feed everyone.
The only feasible way was to hunt, and for safety’s sake, we had to travel in pairs. But with Gabriel near me, it was hard to let go. Not because I was afraid I’d scare him, but because I was afraid I’d hurt him. I didn’t know what I could do, and I didn’t know my limits.
We’d wandered deep into the woods, and then I heard a gunshot.
A tree branch exploded near my head, and Gabriel tackled me to the ground.
We hid behind a tree. He pulled out his gun and started shooting. I had the Fairborn in one hand and a gun—significantly less useful in my hand than Gabriel’s—in the other.
I couldn’t tell how many there were.
Four, maybe five.
They moved towards us, we ran and found another hiding spot to shoot at them from. Again. And again.
Gabriel’s arm was bleeding, and he couldn’t heal fast enough to stop it.
A woman took too long aiming. Gabriel shot her between the eyes.
Three left.
Maybe four.
Something strange was happening with the weather. The wind was picking up. Clouds were gathering overhead, leaving splotches of the ground very, very dark.
Some of the plants seemed to move on their own accord. One of them tripped me as I ran, and I got hit in the thigh by a bullet. I healed over it, but I ran slower.
They were getting closer.
I felt like everything was getting louder, sharper, more intense. But that was the animal within me awakening: I could feel him in the pit of my stomach.
Gabriel shot another, this one in the throat. But the other two kept moving.
And then they got too close.
Of course Jessica was one of them.
The other stopped running. She took aim.
She fired.
Straight.
At.
His heart.
I was too far away to push him out of the way.
He was too close to move in time.
He was going to die.
He was going to die.

And then everything stopped.

The bullet hovered in the air, useless.
Gabriel’s unchanging expression of shock. The Hunter’s, of intense determination.
Jessica’s eyes locked on where I’d been standing.
Everything stuck in place.
Except for me.
Everything was red.
My hands were on fire. And before I knew it, so was the Hunter who almost killed Gabriel.
She stood stock still as the flames surrounded her.
She couldn’t feel a thing, for now.
The flames roared as they devoured her clothes, her skin, her body.

My hands were still hot, but not burning, when I grabbed Gabriel. He threw himself to the ground, so hard I nearly toppled with him.
He looked up with wild eyes and his gun out, muscles tense and ready to shoot. He searched madly for a target.
And then he realized what I still hadn’t in entirety. What I’d done.
He brought the gun to his side. “We need to go,” he said.
I took his hand and made a cut.
To where, I didn’t know for certain as I made it. But after we spun for ages within it, we landed in a dense grove of hedges.
Right outside Marcus’ hideout.
I let go of Gabriel.
“Nathan, wait.”
I couldn’t, Deb. I couldn’t stay with him.
I had to leave.
So I left him.

I don’t know when I restarted time, but as I calmed, so did the weather. So did the plants, which reached for me as I tore through them. Eventually, my hands stopped smoking.
I was exhausted, and I was still injured.
I found my way back to Gabriel, and he dug out the bullet for me.
We didn’t talk.
There was too much to say.
And so I sat, quietly afraid of myself, until I fell asleep.

I’m sad I didn’t get the chance to see you, after so long. But I’m glad you didn’t see me. After they took me away, they made me into a monster. They’ve turned me into something I’ve tried to avoid.
Now I don’t even know what I am.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been trying to control these new Gifts.
I’m still afraid of them, but I’m more afraid of what I’ll do if I never learn to control them. Maybe if I was alone, it would be different. But I have Gabriel and Arran to worry about, and with them around I can’t go making a thunder storm every time I get sad, or setting fires every time I'm angry.
I practice when Gabriel is at work, or when I’m away from him in the woods. I’ve never practiced here, but once I’ve got a bit more ability, I’d like to show you something.
Turning invisible is difficult for me. So far, it seems the most difficult out of those which have revealed themselves to me. I’ve only done so once, and that was by accident—I was trying to make it rain. I looked up to see the blue sky, and looked down to see the ground where my torso should have been.
I’ve been practicing with plants most often. They come more naturally to me. I can make creepers creep their way over to me, ivy scale rock faces faster than Gabriel can climb, thorn bushes grow to seven feet tall.
Trees are more difficult. They’re older, and so they’re more stubborn. It’s almost like having a conversation with them, trying to convince them to do what I want.
Flowers are also difficult. They bloom and wilt so quickly. But the other day I managed to make a little clearing bloom in poppies and lilies. I filled the space until the air was heady with their scent.
I showed it to Gabriel when he got home. He smiled wider than he has in a long time. There’s a bouquet still in a glass on our dining room table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I feel horrible.
He has bags under his eyes, but he always smiles so brightly when he sees me.
My nightmares wake him up all night, and then he works all day.
He says he doesn’t mind his job, but I know him. He’s not like me. He hates working with his hands. He’d rather be working his mind.
The war is over, but I still fight it in my dreams.
I wake up screaming my throat raw some nights.
Tearing at my mouth, choking on Marcus’ blood.
Other times I’m thrashing on Mr. Wallends’ operating table. Or clawing at my ears from Celia’s Gift.
Seeing that bullet, what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped it, seeing Gabriel when it—
Well.
He’s has told me I’ve sleepwalked, sleepfought. I woke up once and he had a black eye, and I ran into the woods and couldn’t face him until it was gone. After that I tried to sleep when he wasn’t around, but that didn’t work, and he wouldn’t let me try.
I’ve been feeling the cage again.
A few weeks ago, Gabriel and I were on a run. I was running fast and hard, and went farther than usual. I went ahead of Gabriel, and then left him behind me. I felt strong.
After a long while, I started hearing buzzing in my ears. I thought I was close to some power lines, so if I kept running, I’d pass them.
I continued.
And then.
A gunshot.
Hunters.
I threw myself down and hid myself in the shadows. My breathing was heavy and my heart was racing. I had hoped the end of the war would have ended this. Being hunted.
As I moved through the shadows, trying to find out where they were, the buzzing in my head got louder. And louder. And louder.
I heard a gunshot again, ducked down again. I didn’t see where the bullet went. But I knew which direction the noise came from. And the roaring in my ears was an excellent compass.
And Gabriel—
He was coming up behind me.
I was the one who drew them here.
This was supposed to be finished.
I finally found a home.
I finally found somewhere I could stop fighting.
I wasn’t going to let them take that away from me again.
That’s when I started seeing red.
I crouched.
The wind picked up.
The plants shifted.
I felt the animal rise within me.
“Nathan!”
Gabriel was still running, straight at me. He grabbed my arm.
I didn’t register the alarm in his voice. It was drowned out by the buzzing, and I tried to shake him off. He used the momentum to place himself in a better spot, and held my arms to my torso.
“They’re fains,” he said. His face was full of worry. “Nathan, they’re fains. Look at me.”
I was still breathing heavily. I didn’t—
“Nathan, we’re by a road. There are cars. One of them is backfiring.”
I don’t—
“It’s a car, Nathan. We’re safe.”
We’re safe.
I was so prepared for a fight that I had difficulty focusing. But his words finally got to me. And when they did, I started laughing. I laughed, and then I couldn’t breathe.
All the adrenaline I’d had, all the intensity I’d brought up turned inwards.
I crumpled.
I couldn’t stop shaking.
The world was spinning.
I couldn’t breathe.
I was making painful sounds that weren’t me, trying to get air into my lungs. The world was tilting. I was nauseous, and the pressure of my stomach was closing up my throat.
“I—I—” I gasped. “I can’t—”
Everything was wrong.
The animal was whimpering inside me, terrified.

Gabriel held me.
He pulled me into his lap and stroked my hair.
“Shhhhh, Nathan. It’s okay. You’re alright.”
He was the only solid thing I could hold onto. I clung to him. I don’t know how long we sat there.
He made me take long, slow breaths, my lungs shaking for want of air, against my inclination to gasp. When I got bad again he brought me back down. Over, and over.
Eventually, the world stopped spinning. I could breathe better. But the buzzing didn’t leave, and I still couldn’t stop shaking. I still felt a bit nauseous.
We walked back to the cottage, his hand on my back the whole time, guiding me. “It was a panic attack,” he explained after we settled into the cottage. I sank into the sofa with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.
“They can be triggered by stress, or sometimes they just happen for no reason, I think.” He handed me a mug of tea. I took it but didn’t drink, and watched the liquid shake instead. “They happen a lot for people with PTSD.”
I grunted.
He poured himself a mug and set it on the ground as he sat next to me. He was smiling when he looked at me, but there was sadness in his expression, and worry. The gold in his eyes tumbled slowly as he searched my face.
“You’re so brave, Nathan,” he told me.
I shook my head.
I was never brave. I only ever wanted to be left alone.
He pulled me to him and hugged me. I let him.
It was good to have him here.
He held me for a long time.
I think once upon a time he might have dared to do more, but I’d scared him away from that.
I didn’t know what to do, or what to feel. So I held him back, and felt everything and nothing at once.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

Am I strong, Deb? Or am I just falling apart?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I kissed him today.
I’d woken up from another nightmare. It was the one about seeing him die again.
The clouds were dark above us and my fingers were sparking and the animal within me was railing, angry at the injustice of it all, but he was there, and he was warm, and he was alive.
I calmed down, but neither of us could sleep after that.
“What do you dream about, Gabriel?”
He thought about that for a minute, looking at the sky as the early morning clouds swirled purple and deep pink within it. “My parents, sometimes. Michele…You, or whatever book we’re reading. Work, sometimes.”
“That sounds pleasant.”
He laughed. “Do you want to read more, if we’re just going to stay up?”
“No.” I paused. “Do you want to go watch the sun rise?”
“Sure.”
In the woods by here, there’s a little hill, covered in trees. There’s so many of them, they’re easy to climb. Of course Gabriel was at the top before I’d even gone midway. And then, to humor me, he climbed back down and then climbed up with me again.
“That’s not fair,” I told him. “You have a longer reach than me.”
“I believe I was better at climbing than you even when I was a fain.”
I rolled my eyes at him and jostled his branch. He grinned at me and climbed onto mine, making it dip and protest loudly. He held onto the branch above us and started stomping, bouncing me around. So I grabbed his legs, which he took off the branch entirely and just hung from the upper branch.
I continued climbing and got onto the one he was holding onto. At that point he’d started doing pull-ups.
“Show off.”
“I can do more pull-ups than you, too.”
“I can do more push-ups.”
“Once we’re on the ground we’ll see about that.”
The mighty scaler of rocks and trees and all things climbable, satisfied by the number of pull-ups he had done, pulled himself onto the branch and sat close next to me.
The birds had just started singing, although we scared off a number of them from our tree just getting there. The sky was orange and pink and cream colored, the sun not quite yet on the horizon. Everything was lit in soft pastel.
I thought about the beautiful boy sitting next to me.
And I thought maybe I wanted to do something again. But this time, I wanted to do it right, and I wasn’t sure how.
“Gabriel,” I said, and turned to him. He was already looking at me.
The way the sun looked on his face made my fingers itch for a pencil. I stroked his cheek instead, and his breath caught.
I kissed him there, close to his mouth, my hand on his chest.
“Nathan…” It was a halfhearted warning, midway between a reproach and a sigh. I reached up to push a stray lock of hair behind his ear and he moved away from me. I shifted with him, but he held a hand out to stop me.
“Nathan, if you don’t mean this, I can’t do it. I love you. I love you so much, but if you’re not…If this is just fun for you, I can’t. Nathan, I can’t.” He was squinting towards the horizon, the ground, looking anywhere but me.
“It’s not,” I said. And when he looked at me, I saw hope and desperation and a little sadness in his face. “I’m sorry for making you doubt it.”
He looked a little mollified, but still concerned.
"It's never been just fun. I should have never pushed you away the first time. I didn't...I was only thinking about what I wanted. What I thought I wanted. But I don't want to hurt you like that again."
I took his face in my hands and pulled him down to me. His eyes watched me intently.
“I’m sorry, Gabriel,” I repeated.
Our lips brushed. “Is this alright?” I asked him.
“Hn—“ He swallowed heavily. “Yeah. Yes.”
So I kissed him.

We were in the tree long past the sunrise.
He was almost late for work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey Debs. I know you’re here. I don’t know what terribly boring things you’re doing in the afterlife that make you want to come see me so often, but I actually need to talk to someone else today. Don’t worry, it’s nothing you’d be interested in.
I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I promise.

Rose?

Hi.
It seems like you were right, then. How proud of yourself you must be.
Rose, I don’t know how to do this. How to keep this good.
I’ve been thinking.
Yeah, novel activity for me. I know.
How do I love someone like this while keeping them themselves?
That sounds confusing, but I think you know what I mean.
When I loved Annalise, I didn’t really love her. I mean, I did, sort of. I thought I did. Despite the fact that she was hardly every there—the girl I thought I knew wasn’t really her. And that was my fault, I think, because at that point I needed someone to love. And she was kind, and she let me.
But then I changed who she was while I was away, remembering her and rethinking her over and over until she wasn’t even real. Nobody could be as perfect as I thought she was.
Even before the end, we’d been falling apart. If I’d lived a normal life, I don’t know what would have happened. But I’ve seen cruelty like she’d never believe, and it’s made me angry, made me a killer. And I tried to hide it from her, because she knew nothing of that world. And you can’t give yourself to someone and hide yourself from them at the same time.
She shot Marcus. I can’t ever forgive her for that. But, I think I understand it more now.
Connor was her brother. Connor hurt me, so I hated him. But she still loved him.
Marcus was my father, and he killed people. People hated him. But I still loved him.
I think I get it.
I used to think we were so different, me and her. That she was good, and anything that wasn’t her was bad. But people can’t be put in boxes like that. I’m trying to learn that.
Gabriel said that I was the epitome of Black Witch and White Witch. That everyone had it backwards, that bringing the two together was a good thing. I think I’m starting to understand now why.
People aren’t just one or the other like that.
Kieran attacked me, and I killed him. And she couldn’t reconcile that fact with who she thought I was, because I wouldn’t let her see me.
So she started getting scared, and that’s where the façade of whoever I thought she was started collapsing.
Then Marcus killed Connor, so she killed him. And then I tried to kill her.
The difference is I think she tried to show me who she was.
Where was she when her brothers were carving those letters into my back?
Why did I know I had to hide from her?
Why was I so afraid of her actually seeing me?
I was trying to preserve two people who never existed. A better her, and a better me.
I’ve figured this out. And I’m starting to believe it, a bit. And so now I have to learn how not to do it again.
This is going to be hard, Rose. But, also easier, I think.
For one because I don’t feel like I need to shelter Gabriel. He’s seen everything. He’s seen me. He’s fought with me, he’s stayed with me. I don’t need to hide myself, my animal, or the violence I seem to trail behind me wherever I go. He’s already been part of it.
I don’t need to hide from him. And I want to know him.
I want him to talk to me forever. I want to hear how he breathes and watch how he moves and see his face when he reads a good book, or enjoys a coffee, or takes in a sunset.
But I need to remind myself of who he is. I can’t forget who he is like I did Annalise, or I’ll ruin this.
I really don’t want to ruin this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I know I’m dressed strangely today. I’ll explain that.
I had another panic attack. Thankfully, this one wasn’t that bad.
I was trying to figure out my other Gifts.
I threw around some fireballs for a while. They were sad things, and fizzled out very quickly, leaving little wisps of white smoke in their wake. Very impressive, to be sure.
On the bright side, I figured out how to keep my fingertips alight for a while.
Did you like that pun? Arran came around yesterday and hung out. He kept saying them. He loves them.
Aren’t I terrifying? Son of Marcus, Destroyer of White Witches, Humungous Crybaby and Maker of Horrible Puns. A pretty terrifying title if I do say so myself.
But anyway. See? Pretty cool, right? I’ll never get lost in the dark again. As if the animal would let me.
So after I essentially mastered flame-throwing, I figured I’d try something more advanced.
I have the ability to breathe it, too, and not just light up my hands, but I haven’t figured out how to do that. I figured I might as well try.
It’s a lot more difficult than you’d think. Mostly nothing happened. Sometimes I’d produce a little bit of smoke, less than a cigarette. I gave myself a stomachache concentrating so hard on breathing.
I decided that although I haven’t yet attained dragon status, I’m pretty close.
I went back to practicing with my hands. This time I tried aiming at something. Mostly just patches of dirt, or big boulders. I accidentally set a shrub on fire, but I managed to put it out in time before it spread, and I re-grew another one in its place as a way of apologizing.
The fire danced in front of my eyes, and it made me remember watching it flicker and sway in front of someone else’s. Seeing her burn, staring straight ahead. Unblinking. Unmoving.
I killed someone who was totally helpless.
And then I saw all the wounds from all the bullets I put in Hunters’ heads, and I saw Marcus’ heart in my hands, and I felt that first Hunter’s neck snap beneath my hands.
Shaking, dizzy and nauseous, I threw up a little and retched a lot.
The wolf took me over and it was easier to let go after that.
We walked through the woods, away from the stench of fear.
We traversed the forest with so many scents in our nose and so many sounds in our flicking ears we forgot everything else. Our muscles were tense, our nerves, a bit unraveled. We were ready to let out some energy.
We found a buck and stalked him through the leaves. We hunted him and were aware enough to save most of him for dinner later on.
We loped through the woods and relaxed with the sun warming our fur. And so we became me once more.
I tried to wipe away the blood on my mouth, but there was blood on my hands, too, so I gave up, retrieved my knife, and decided I would clean myself off after the deer was done with.
We have enough meat now to last us more than a week. I had to make a lot of trips, and our ice box wouldn’t fit all of it, so I left a lot behind in the woods. It’s a waste, but I don’t know how to cure meat, so another animal will get a meal from it I hope.
I showered off and scrubbed my skin with soap, but I still smelled like blood. I couldn’t get it off me, no matter how hot the water was or how much I rubbed my hands and face raw.
So, I gave up. I put on my jeans and decided to take one of Gabriel’s sweaters, because if I can’t smell like me, I can at least smell like him.
He’s taller than me, and the types he likes to wear are already too big for him. So yeah, I know I look like I’m swimming in it. But it’s warm and reminds me of him and doesn’t smell like blood, so I can look ridiculous for a ghost for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been trying to convince Gabriel he doesn’t need to work as much, but he won’t listen. I’m not sure how much we’re paying to live here. He never told me; he said he doesn’t want me to worry about it. It seems like every time I press him we end up fighting.
“I don’t mind,” he said to me. He was making breakfast. I had woken up with him and was watching, because I’m not allowed to do most of the cooking anymore.
I accidentally wrecked the gas stove a few weeks ago. I couldn’t get it to light, so I tried lighting it with my own fire. But then my arm caught on fire—it tickled, surprisingly—as did most of the rest of the stove and some of the counter, and then I had to spray everything in water and it was a mess. But I salvaged most of it. It took a while, but it no longer smells like singed hair. We just can’t use one half of our stove anymore. And also I have one less shirt.
“No, I know you don’t. But I do,” I said. “You do everything, Gabriel. It’s like I’m dead weight.”
“No, Nathan. Never.”
“Hm.”
He flipped the eggs out of the pan and took the toast out of the toaster. I fixed his coffee for him and got some juice for myself, thinking about what I should say next.
“I can’t just do nothing.”
“You’re not. You’re doing something incredible, Nathan.”
“But it’s not helpful.”
He sighed. “I don’t want you to stress yourself out,” he told me. “You’ve worked so hard for so long…I think you deserve a break.”
“If this is about the panic attacks—“
“It’s not,” he interrupted, shooting me a look. He got up to retrieve something and came back, hugging me to him from behind and pressing his face into my hair.
“I worry about you, my love.” I could feel the vibration in his chest as he talked. He squeezed me a little tighter. "I want to spoil you a bit. Just let me spoil you a little longer.”

When he asks me like that, Deb, what can I say?
“Alright?”
“Yeah…Alright.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been working on the garden, despite what Gabriel said. So far I’ve managed to get some turnips and carrots, some watercress and a bunch of different types of beans. I tried corn once, but I accidentally put basil in instead, so now we have much more basil than we’ll ever need.
Deb, I’m turning into Gran. Send help. Maybe a punk-rock band. Throw in a curfew and some bad decisions. Now where are my knitting needles?
Besides that, though, I realized I’ve been ignoring my own Gift. I don’t know the animal well, but he’s more familiar to me than all these others, so I thought I could keep him in check. But he doesn’t like being ignored, and after struggling trying to make a spark or a cloud or even make a damn shrub grow it’s so much easier to just let him out.
Mostly I’ve stuck to the wolf. A few days ago I branched out and became a squirrel, but I didn’t realize how little squirrels think. I even forgot who I was for a few minutes, just because my tiny squirrel brain did not have room for it.
All and all, it wasn’t too different from me normally, then. I turned back into me pretty fast once I realized who I was again. After that I decided to stick to animals more closely related to what I’ve already tried, for now.
I can turn into a dog easily. It’s always a German Shepherd. I don’t know why. That’s just what my Gift decided.
I’ve decided I’m going to visit Gabriel at work like that. A dog, or maybe a bird, if I can get the other forms down. Eagles are pretty conspicuous. Maybe a robin or a swallow. He only works in a little town, not a big city, so it shouldn’t hurt my head too much. I just want to make sure he’s happy with what he’s doing.
I know he’s reassured me over and over, but I know that if it weren’t for me he’d be studying at a university somewhere. And I really need to make sure he’s not making himself miserable so I can be here. I want to give him everything he wants, but I’m stuck here in the middle of the woods and I can’t even ride in a car without wanting to vomit and I can’t sleep through the night and I always wake him up and I worry about everything and I have panic attacks and all I can do is grow a damn vegetable and I feel fucking useless.
God fucking damn it.
I hate this, Deb.
I feel like I’m in quarantine. I feel like I'm in the cage again.
Maybe if he were here, or if I knew for sure what he was doing made him happy, it’d be better. But right now, it’s horrible.

I’m going to go practice my other forms some more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve got it. It took a few days, but I’ve got it down.
I can stay in it for long enough to check up on him, and I still remember myself. The birds are a lot easier to deal with than the wolf. They’re less forceful.
Should I not do this, Deb?
Maybe if you were really here you’d convince me out of it.
I trust him with my life. I’d trust him with Arran’s life, and that’s really saying something. But I don’t trust him to do what makes him happiest.
I don’t have many people left, and he’s so important.
I’ve hurt him before. I gave him the scar on his eyebrow, and then that time I pushed him away, and when I woke up and he had that black eye…
I can’t be hurting him now, too.
The fighting is supposed to be over.
I’m going to go.