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Hetty, Reese, and Byatt have been floating along the current for two days now. Only a bit ago was it possible for Reese to turn the engine on and now she is pushing it. Pushing it as fast as it can go because time is not something that they have right now. Byatt’s eyes remained glazed, not a single word falling from her chapped lips. She stays asleep most of the time. Hetty is an absolute wreck. What used to be her eye has now been replaced with a horribly bleeding gashed out wound after she begged Reese to get the parasite out. She did not accept for a while, but Hetty begged and begged and begged and there is nothing Reese would not do for her. She is silent most of the time, distant and trying to get Byatt to talk. Always distracted with Byatt. Just Byatt. Always Byatt. Only Byatt. Things have started to go back to how they used to, as in, Hetty and Byatt. Hetty and Byatt plus Reese. And to be honest? It absolutely tears her up inside. Hetty was finally hers. She had finally gotten the love she had held to deeply reciprocated, but the second that they found Byatt again all of those warm emotions were torn out of her hands.
The two girls who have been rid of the horrendous disease are starting to gain color to their skin again, life to their eyes. Only one remains. One who can not risk removing the parasite. Without Reese as a solid protection, they are all dead. So for now, she ignores the feeling of her skin burning, the scales on her hand tightening painfully, the feeling of something in her fucking chest. Yeah, she has found the slippery little bastard. She knows it is there, can feel the thing burrow through her flesh, growing and fucking thriving while she gets weaker and hysteric. The sight of sweet Hetty curled up next to Byatt on the ground of the boat is the only thing keeping Reese from ripping her chest open, revealing the rotted and broken pieces to the world. Like father, like daughter, am I right?
A hot burning sensation suddenly and painfully envelopes Reese’s body, making the blonde seize slightly. Her hair radiates and flickers, scales scrunching in on themselves as a burning bursts from her heart, enveloping her whole body. “Fuck. fuCK. FUCK!” Her hand slips from the motor as she falls forward, sloshing the already unstable boat and slowing it to a stop.
“Reese…? Reese!? Oh my god, Reese! Hey, hey, look at me! It’s okay Reese, I'm here. I'm here. What hurts? You need to tell me what hurts,” that voice, sickly sweet and soft as a cloud, it breaks through the ringing in her ears. Hetty, it’s Hetty. Hetty is here.
“H-Het-Hetty? Hetty- help-” Her voice cracks as her body violently thrashes around. She grabs at her chest, silver claws immediately striking home as she tries and tries to rip her skin off, gouging herself to get to that fucking worm. Hetty screams and grabs at Reese’s clawed arm, slamming it to the bottom of the boat, but her other one continues to try, stubbed fingernails that have been bitten raw rake along her exposed flesh, searching through, and finally finding purchase through the blood and flesh. Right next to her collarbone, something that does not belong. It slips and slides, but she is determined as she throws Hetty off of herself, tossing her into Byatt’s lap as the boat rocks and rocks, both arms now yanking desperately at the fleshy tube, pulling and pulling and pulling and- POP! SPLASH!
The world quiets. For the first time in years, the world is silent. The sound of birdsong fills Reese’s ears, soft creaks of old wood boards and a shake of leaves. Blue eyes crack open gently, the morning light streaming in through the window. Her bed. Her room. Her house. Rough feet land on soft wood. A call is heard from behind the door. A voice Reese had dreamed and dreamed of hearing again. A voice long forgotten. Her father.
“Dad! Daddy!!” She screams, running out into the main room of their small house, searching frantically, and- there he is. How she remembers. Not rotted and chipped away, not claimed by the wilderness. His torso is not in pieces, his still beating heart is inside of his chest unlike the last time she saw him. And his eyes, oh, his eyes. The same soft blue as her own, with nothing other than love behind them. She is in his arms in seconds, holding on and sobbing. She told Hetty! She did! She knew he was in there! She knew he was okay, because he just had to be.
“Good morning to you too, my sweet baby-girl.” He holds on just as tight, kissing her head softly. “How about you and me head out fishing today, huh? Out on the ol’ boat? That sound good?” Reese does not reply, she just holds on. She holds on tighter than she ever has before, willing herself to accept this, to be able to happily live in this world forever. Through the softness there is something odd in his words, something familiar, almost as if this exact morning has happened before.
She goes to respond, but as our dear friend Chaucer says, all good things must come to an end.
Soft sniffles, like a baby mouse. Barely there at all. The smell of blood pungent on the sea air. Pain. So. Much. Pain. Aching and burning, pulling and ripping, desperate and pleading, empty and shaken.
“Reese? Baby, can you open your eyes?”
Hetty. Hetty, Hetty, Hetty, Hetty, Hetty, HettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHettyHetty-
“Reese. Focus. Come back to me, baby.”
Slowly, slowly and slightly difficultly, her eyes open. Hazed and lost, until they land on her. On Hetty. Tears burn and threaten to spill, but Reese bites them back, letting out a croak as she blindly reaches for Hetty’s face. “He- t- ty-...” Cold, almost frozen scales, crusted and caked in blood fall and find solace in two warm palms, fully missing the mark of one soft cheek.
“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t worry, Reese. I’m here. It’s out, the parasite is out. You’re okay, but… I need you. I need you Reese.” Something rises in Reese’s heart, her eyes opening more, before her light dims once again. “I-I don’t know how to work this thing, Reese. I need your help.” Reese goes to close her eyes again, she is ready to give up and accept that Hetty will only ever need her for actions, not for herself. “Reese, just… tell me what to do. Tell me, and then-then you can rest again, alright? Y-You’ll be okay, yeah? How do I get us out of here?”
Well, that is a little better. “P-Pull cord- Steer, pole.” She does not say anything else, does not even try. What is the point, anyways.
“Okay, okay. Here, sip-sip this then y-you-you can rest.” The plastic ring of a water bottle graces Reese’s lips. She lets the warm liquid slide past her chapped lips and down her aching throat, then turns and curls into herself, holding her scaled hand close. A jacket is softly placed over her shaking form, Hetty leans over her for a minute before slowly placing a tentative kiss to her temple. Reese would not have heard her whispers if Hetty’s lips were not close to touching her ear. She is forever grateful for the fact that she did.
“Rest, My Love… Rest.”