Chapter Text
Erin clomped through the underbrush, flashlight in hand, cursing under her breath. She pushed branches out of the way the best she could with her free hand, trying to avoid snagging her backpack as she let them whip back into place as she trudged past. This night hiking shit seemed a lot easier in the blogs she read.
“Goddamn moral compass, making me feel guilty. How was I supposed to know she’d bring a gun?” She grumbled, narrowly avoiding a slap from a rebounding sapling.
You called her, told her someone you were with turned into a monster, and you expected her not to come armed and ready? I mean, you have met Tabitha haven’t you? Her mind answered.
Her mumbles continued, half to convince herself this was unnecessary, and half to hear another human voice. “He was already healing! I’ve known the man for 2 days! A combined like, 4 hours, part of which I spent unconscious! Why am I even out here?” A soft “thwack” as a bent branch ricocheted off her stomach. Erin thudded onto her backside on the ground, yelping in frustration and a little pain. At least the rotting leaves provided a bit of cushion.
All the more reason you owe him. He trusted you, he helped you when he barely knew you, and you blew up his world and let him get shot. You were the one who was able to calm him; you are the one who should find him.
She let out a half sigh, half sob, frustration and anger and guilt overwhelming her as her adrenaline started to fade. For the first time she really thought about what she was doing. She had left the estate, at night, by herself (well, as by herself as she ever was with Wayne lurking about), to search the endless surrounding woods that were confirmed to be full of weird little pillsbury dough boy alien things for a guy who turned into a reverse centaur from hell when he got mad. Because a reverse centaur from hell with rapid healing powers would need her, specifically, in this situation.
She started to laugh. Wildly, hysterically. Holy shit, what was wrong with her? Everything, obviously. How was she even supposed to find a single person in this vastness?
But she had to try, at least. Who else would be looking? The doctor certainly wasn’t, and even she’d had a chance to tell Stella, her and Tabitha had gone off together and Tabitha never had returned to the estate. Plus she felt a...pull she supposed it was. A pull towards Reese, a connection that seemed illogical but that was undeniably there. An obligation but also something else she couldn’t put her finger on.
“Well, I’m already out here, I may as well press on.” She told herself, getting up and brushing herself off. She looked around. The reflective strap she had wrapped around a tree by the trail flashed in the distance, so she pulled out another and tied it next to her. At least she hadn’t lost all her senses this week; she had read up on night hiking before striking out, preparing a backpack full of essentials.
Another half hour passed as Erin walked as far as her reflectors would let her off the path, then trudged back up, removing them as she went only to walk another quarter mile and try again. She called for Reese, as if her loud fumbling through the brush wouldn’t have alerted anything with ears in a 100 yard radius. She stood quietly for a moment, ready to pack it in, when she heard crows cawing. She checked her watch. It was nearly midnight; crows would be at their roost, asleep in large numbers for safety. That is, unless something else was in the roost, upsetting them. She moved towards the noise.
“Reese! Reese are you there? It’s Erin!” The cawing got louder as she stumbled into the roost. Hundreds of birds looked down from the trees, cawing but not yet organizing an attack. They were alert, annoyed, but not yet truly scared. She swung her light around, seeing something pale on the ground briefly. She swung back, illuminating a human form laying on the ground, seemingly asleep.
“Reese!” The man looked up, confused and seemingly dazed. Did the transformation take this much out of him?
“...Er--Erin?”
Reese had panicked, rather understandably, after being shot in the face. The noise had been deafening, and he remembered a surprising amount of pain, both more and less than he had expected. He remembered yelling, the wall, the feeling of his body suddenly not working. And he remembered Erin.
Erin, sneaking around the house with him, hiding in a closet, unafraid of touching him. Erin, laughing at his shyness good naturedly. Erin, listening and offering him a place to stay after he realized what was happening. Erin, sitting for a portrait to help him take his mind off the horrors. Erin, telling him she wouldn’t let him kill anyone. Erin, reaching out a hand to him, completely unafraid. He remembered Erin as he lay against the wall, feeling his bones reknit themselves, standing between him and the source of the shot. Erin, looking at him as he ran, her face a mixture of sadness and something...warm.
Reese ran through the woods without thinking, feeling his skin and bones shift and slither. As they did, he felt the rushing, pumping adrenaline dissipating. He had suddenly been so tired. So, so tired. He kept moving out of habit until he found a place with none of those, what were they, Ditchlings? That seemed right. There were no ditchlings, or none he could see. He heard rustling, and cawing, but he just needed to lie down, just for a bit.
Moments later (was it moments? Had he slept? Dreamed?), he heard his name. No, that can’t be right, who would be calling him?
“Reese, are you there?”
It was someone calling his name. It sounded familiar and...safe? Yes, his mind said this was safe. He felt a bright light on him, causing spots behind his closed eyelids. Who was that? Why were they waking him? What was that noise? Cawing?
“Reese!”
He knew the voice, though he had only heard it first a short time ago. He opened his eyes, blinking against the light and pushing himself as upright as he could.
“...Er-Erin?” He croaked out. His throat felt strange. He kept hearing cawing. He barely had time to register his surroundings before she was right in front of him, looking him over quickly but thoroughly. A hand ran over his arms, barely touching, and then his sides, before landing softly on his face. He was too tired to flinch in surprise. And, a small part of him admitted, it felt so good to be touched.
“Incredible,” she breathed out, “You’re okay.” The relief in her voice was obvious, and her face softened. “Oh Reese, I’m so-” She stopped short, her eyes widening as if she had caught herself doing something foolish. She caught herself and smiled brightly, a bit too brightly all things considered.
“Nevermind that, we need to get you somewhere warm and safe.” She let go of his face and it was all Reese could do not to whimper at the loss. She was warm and soft and safe, couldn’t he stay here? Why would he go? He shook his head, trying to rouse himself and get away from the thought. No, no he was in the woods and he was cold, he realized. Very cold. This was real. He was real and awake and he needed to stay that way.
“Here, you ran out fast enough I figured you hadn’t grabbed a coat.” She smiled at him in an attempt at teasing, handing him a sweatshirt. “Can’t exactly blame you, though.”
“Th-thank you.” He pulled it on slowly, finally reaching full consciousness. “What-...how-” He wasn’t sure how to continue. “What time is it?” He finally settled on.
She pulled her backpack back on, glaring at the cawing birds in the branches, “I’m not sure, half past midnight maybe? Can you walk? I didn’t feel any obvious injuries but I’m going off what I learned on WebMD here so...”
“I think so, I just feel so tired.” He admitted, getting onto all fours and starting to get up. Erin put his arm over her shoulder and boosted him the rest of the way. Reese leaned against her, partially for the support, but mostly to be close to her. To be close to anyone.
Idiot. She doesn’t want to be close to you.
He started to pull away but Erin wrapped her free arm around his torso, pressing him against her side while she pointed the flashlight she held forward. Her other hand rested on his own on her shoulder. She looked at him sternly. He blushed under her gaze, unsure of whether he was ashamed of angering her or ashamed of how much he coveted the touch of her hand on his.
“Now, none of this macho bullshit. You literally shifted and reworked your entire body and I don’t care if it’s some magical nonsense, there is absolutely no way it did not take something out of you.” She began forward, moving at what appeared to be the fastest pace she believed he could, and continued speaking as if half to herself, “Add that to the fact you’ve hardly eaten in a decade, the sheer caloric requirements to knit your face back together after that kind of injury...Damn, I should have brought that peanut butter, maybe if you ate a whole jar? That's mostly fat and protein...What kind of nutrients are needed for bone regeneration? I mean, calcium and vitamin D probably. Ugh, should have grabbed multivitamins too. Well too late for that now.”
Despite himself, Reese smiled slightly. Why not? Why not end a day where he’d found out his mom had been poisoning him for years in the name of “keeping him safe,” only to discover he had some kind of superstrength when he was angry, with a determined, beautiful woman dragging him out of the woods, muttering about the biomechanics of magic?
Because you’re a monster.
Reese resisted the thought. He was not a monster, he just-
What else but a monster could make a doctor poison her son for years ? What else but a monster could have turned on her and tried to kill her in a rage, instead of going to the police? What else but a monster would have made someone else get involved?
Reese sagged against Erin. Maybe the voice was right.
“Hey now, just a little bit further.” Erin seemed to take his defeat for exhaustion. Maybe it was. Before today, he’d been certain he would die, sooner rather than later. He’d been certain for years that this would be his last. What had been the point in anything, really, if your days were so closely numbered? But now what? Now what to do with the 60 or more years in front of him? It was so much time in front of him, but it had the same ending as before. He didn’t know.
He could see the estate down the trail, and he decided it didn’t matter. For now he would just enjoy the touch he craved so badly, and think of nothing else until he had to. He closed his eyes, and tried to pretend he was finally having a good dream.
Erin could feel Reese’s racing heartbeat in his hand. It seemed to spike at random. He had nearly jumped out of his skin when she had pulled him up to walk. Was he that scared? Or was he just that unused to touch? Either answer made her feel sick for him.
“Don’t worry, no one’s here other than the cat, and she stays in the kitchen most of the time.” She said as they entered the crumbling foyer. “Well, and there’s a couple possums in my dresser but they seem nice enough.”
“Heh.” Reese muttered with a small smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. Erin tried to hide her worry.
Once they got up the treacherous stairs, she got Reese into the light of her bedroom and sat him down. Her assessment in the woods that nothing was obviously broken or spurting blood had been accurate enough, but the sight was still unsettling. The dried blood and possibly...jaw bone on his hair and face showed how extensive the damage had been. She hadn’t just imagined it; a few inches higher and it would have damaged his brain, probably killing him. She was pretty sure even creatures with the ability to regrow limbs needed their brain to do it. His face also wasn’t quite back to normal, or at least to the way it had been when she met him Wednesday. Maybe this new look was the real normal? His ears were a little pointier, eyes a bit darker, and she was willing to bet his teeth were a tad pointier, though not visible at the moment. It wouldn’t be polite to pry open the man’s mouth out of curiosity, though. Maybe when he seemed less shell shocked. How do you ask someone if you can examine their I-teeth for science but like, tactfully? She put that thought aside.
“I’ll be right back. I’m going to get some water and a towel if I can find a clean one. Supposedly someone cleans this place but I don’t believe it.” She tried to take an exasperated, joking tone, but Reese still seemed to be in a daze. Understandable, given the day he’d had.
“Yeah...” He said quietly, sitting oddly still on the bed. A bit stiffly, even.
“And I’ll get you a snack. That will help. Snacks always help.” Erin left to gather a sandwich, a bowl, and a towel as quickly as she could. She didn’t want to leave Reese alone too long. He seemed fragile, more so than he ever had under the effects of the poison.
“Jesus, now what?” She asked herself as she assembled a sandwich. “What am I supposed to do? I’m not trained in trauma counseling! What was I thinking, I don’t even have any medical training! What if he’s hurt?” She paused.
“Well...I guess I can’t do any worse than Dr. Kelly, eh Frou Frou?” Erin asked the cat with a dry chuckle. Frou Frou hissed at her from her spot on the counter top, annoyed at being awakened at such an hour. Erin shrugged.
“Eh, fuck you too then. I think I'm funny.”
But what will you do? How will you fix this? Do you think a peanut butter sandwich and a band-aid are going to solve this? Her mind asked.
“Shut up. It’s better than nothing.” She muttered to herself, taking the sandwich and the bowl of water with her to the bathroom. On second thought, she grabbed a towel from Tabitha’s bathroom. Not like she was here to use it.
She came back to her room to see Reese sitting in the same place, with the same rather distant, resigned look on his face. She frowned and set down the items she brought. She cautiously approached Reese, not wanting to surprise him.
“Reese?” He looked up. “I want to check you for injuries again, now that I have light and no birds screaming at me. I don’t think it’s likely, seeing as you uh, basically grew a new jaw, but it can’t hurt. Is that okay?”
“Oh...okay.” He shifted slightly, seeming to wake up a bit. “Yeah I-uh, I guess that’s a good idea.” She looked about for a chair, and settled for pulling up a box full of something fairly solid and sat in front of him.
“May I?” She asked, reaching for Reese’s face.
“Yes.” He said softly, with a hint of something that sounded like...pleading. Odd.
She placed a hand softly on his jaw, running her fingers over the skin. There was dried blood spattered all over his face but she didn’t see or feel any gashes. His skin seemed to have snapped back to normal as well. Fascinating. She reached for the towel with her other hand and wet it, slowly rubbing the blood off Reese’s face. He made a soft, pleased humming noise, then blushed furiously. She smiled.
“Does that feel good?” She asked softly.
“Y-yeah.” He answered, hesitantly, but he leaned into her hands anyway.
“Good. Close your eyes so I can get your whole face.” She kept cleaning, switching sides and getting bits of something from his hair. As she stopped and pulled away, a soft whine escaped his throat. She smiled to herself, feeling pleased she could still elicit a response like that, in the middle of an absolute nightmare of a situation, even if it was just because Reese was so starved for closeness.
Reese’s eyes popped open a second later, as he coughed and sat up, clearly embarrassed at such an obvious display of...what? Desire? A need for human touch? Neither was anything to be ashamed of in her book. Erin tried her best to keep a neutral face, but it was nearly impossible. It was all she could do not to burst out laughing at the absurdity. A few hours ago he was some kind of unknown cryptid bent on bloody revenge, and now he looked like he was going to sink into the floor in shame over showing any need for affection. It was absurd and sad and honestly, it was sweet.
“How’s your shoulder?” She asked, deciding to save his pride with a subject change. “I heard you say Wayne had gotten you?”
“Sore still.” He admitted, seemingly relieved by the shift in topic. “I can move it okay though.”
“Would you mind letting me see? I realize you survived a decade of ricin poisoning, but I looked and the oral route is a lot less toxic than a direct injection, and Wayne does seem to be, uh...decomposing. I mean, generally the risk of disease from corpses, overall, is a bit overblown and mostly comes in the form of gastrointestinal illness from contaminated water after improper disposal, but you can get a lot of illnesses from ingesting certain contaminated organs, primarily the brain, and well, Wayne does also appear to be like, possessed or something, so we also have to consider the possibility of supernatural parasites or-” She stopped short, noticing Reese’s shoulders shaking and a sort of rumble coming from his throat. “Reese?”
The rumble turned into a chuckle, and then a full-on, near hysterical laugh. Reese threw his head back, falling back on the bed, clutching his stomach, laughing a little hysterically.
“And just what is so funny?” Erin asked in a huff, unsure whether to be concerned that he had finally lost his mind, or annoyed he thought that the possibility of some kind of mutant zombie gangrene was a joke. Well, alright, when she put it that way it did seem like a joke.
“ You.” He wheezed out. Erin stared at him in shock, mouth moving but unsure what to say. Reese caught his breath, “You, oh my god, I met you and you were so beautiful I was totally floored, I mean, you’re stunning, and then I talk to you and -” a laughing wheeze cuts in, “-and you open your mouth and you’re-you’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met!” This sent him into another fit of laughter while Erin tried to regain her poise.
“I have on idea what you’re talking about.” She said, stiffening her posture. Really, the nerve of him! Here she is, bringing him to a safe place, taking care of his injuries, after trekking into the woods-which are full of monsters-just trying to figure out if there is some kind of zombie mad cow disease or something that he’d be at risk for despite the super-healing, which to be fair could be entirely the work of stem cells and have nothing to do with the immune system at all, meaning he is just as susceptible to the common cold as anyone else, which would actually be really fascinating to look into, maybe she should read up on how skinks regrow tails versus-
Girl, that is super weird and you know it.
She narrowed her eyes at her traitor brain and sighed as Reese wiped his eyes, sitting up, finally over his laughing fit. She unconsciously tossed her hair, sniffing a bit in an attempt to protect her pride.
“Well, maybe I have a bit of a different perspective than most people,” Reese quirked an eyebrow at this, but she ignored him and continued, “But, my point still stands, and I should still look at your shoulder.” Reese shrugged, pulling the sweatshirt over his head. Midway through the movement, Erin decided she would regain some ground.
“You’re lucky I’m choosing to focus on the fact that you think I’m beautiful and stunning, or you’d be looking at that cut yourself.” The slight hitch in Reese’s movement told her she’d successfully leveled the embarrassment field. Good, that's what he gets. Calling her weird. She was merely a woman of science and letters.
Who was, she admitted to herself reluctantly, not noticing the small smile that tugged at her lips, maybe just a little bit weird. Sometimes.
Reese was starting to notice that Erin’s face hid next to nothing of her thoughts. It was interesting, seeing such a beautiful face shift through shock and disbelief at his assertion, to clearly indignantly arguing against her weirdness internally, to seeming to seriously consider something out of apparent curiosity, to a blankness that was quickly followed by narrowed eyes, as if disliking the conclusion she had reached. Each shift renewed his laughter. Did she really have no idea? Had everyone just pretended it was perfectly normal to discuss corpse disposal or metabolic processes or, he didn’t know, probably 14th century tailoring techniques or something equally off the wall, in casual conversation because she was so gorgeous they didn’t want to risk losing their chance with her? He imagined someone desperately googling during a bathroom break in a futile attempt to keep up with her, with her never the wiser, continuing to discuss esoteric concepts fully believing this was normal. Somehow that made it even funnier.
He finally managed to stop laughing, wiping his eyes as she spoke. “Well, maybe I have a bit of a different perspective than most people,” Reese couldn’t stop his eyebrow from popping up at what was clearly the understatement of the century, “But, my point still stands, and I should still look at your shoulder.”
He shrugged. She had a point; they really didn’t know how this whole shapeshifting thing worked. They. He was already thinking of Erin and himself as a team, a unit. That excited and unsettled him. Were they a team? As he considered this, he began pulling off the sweatshirt she had given him. Well, she had come to find him, and she was taking care of him, that seemed like something a teammate would do, or a friend.
But what are you offering her? Seems like yet another woman you’re burdening with your problems while giving nothing in return. Useless, aren't you?
Erin’s voice cut in before his mind spiraled further into loathing.
“You’re lucky I’m choosing to focus on the fact that you think I’m beautiful and stunning, or you’d be looking at that cut yourself.” Reese froze for a second, a blush creeping up his face. Shit, he had said that. Well, it was objectively true and she knew it. No reason to be embarrassed by stating the obvious. His hot cheeks disagreed, but he tried to ignore them.
Putting the sweatshirt on the bed next to him, he let Erin gently touch his shoulder. The touch was careful, but there was a small sting from the pressure. He didn’t react to the pain; he’d been in pain for years. This was nothing.
“Well, it’s still got some red spidering, but not as bad as I remember at the clinic. It’s warm to the touch. Does it hurt at all when I touch it?” She tilted her head like an owl, concerned but undeniably curious. He felt himself smiling softly.
“A little I guess? Not enough for me to really notice. I don’t notice any warmth, either, really.” She nodded, considering.
“It looks clean enough externally. Let me see if there’s an ice pack in the freezer, or any antibiotic ointment anywhere. Best to be safe.” She stood up and looked at him, suddenly serious. “You eat that sandwich while I’m gone. I’m making you another one while I’m downstairs. You need to eat something.” She paused, walking to the dresser, and pulling something out as he heard hisses, and then a soft thump. She said something that sounded vaguely apologetic, and handed him a pair of sweats.
“Sorry, the possums were near these, but they weren’t touching them. And I mean, even if they were, possums are actually remarkably disease free. They eat ticks that carry lyme without getting it themselves, and they’re immune to rabies.” She said, a hint of pride in her voice, as if she respected and admired such hardy creatures. “People should really entice them into their yards instead of trying to chase them out of their yards. Rat and king snakes too. King snakes actually eat venomous snakes, did you know that?” The pure, untempered excitement on her already lovely face at sharing what she obviously thought was vital, terrific information was one of the most charming things Reese had ever seen.
Charming, intelligent, clearly beautiful...what is she doing talking to you? You didn’t even finish high school. You had no idea who she was talking about when she complimented your art. You don’t even have a job, stop deluding yourself. You’re some pitiable creature she’s decided to tolerate, like the possums in the dresser. You’re not an equal.
Reese shoved the thoughts back, trying to keep his face calm and pleasant. “I did not know that.” Erin’s face bordered on gleeful.
“They do! Rats too, and all kinds of dangerous vermin that carry disease or can make people sick. And-” Her eyes fell on the clock, and she took a breath, “But that can wait. You need to eat your sandwich, and we need to get some sleep. I’m sure my adrenaline is going to run out soon. Let me see if I can find ointment or saline or something to try to kill any non-supernatural bacteria in that cut. Maybe there’s honey in the pantry, it never gets rancid and it’s a decent antimicrobial. Or I could try to find something wool that’s clean?” The last part was said almost to herself, eyes shifted to the side in thought, hand resting on her chin as she tapped her nose with her pointer finger. Reese wondered how one person could be so simultaneously intimidating in their determination and intelligence, and so equally unaffected and disarming. Did she learn it somewhere? She certainly didn’t get it from being a Scarlet; Tabitha could only manage the terrifying and intimidating half.
She looked back at him, no longer lost in thought, “You though, you change. I’m surprised your jeans are still in one piece.” She started out the door, then called back, “Eat the sandwich! Even if you’re not hungry! I’m making another one too.” Her voice trailed off as she went searching.
Reese smiled despite himself. She had said “we.” We would get some sleep. Maybe...maybe they were a team. He picked up his sandwich hesitantly, trying to remember what it was like to eat before every meal meant nausea. Had he ever enjoyed food? He thought so; he remembered liking liver as a child.
He almost laughed. Of course, the monster loved organ meat. Well, for now the monster had to settle for PB&J, which was better than nothing. His stomach growled, and his hesitation towards the food was overcome by a sudden realization that he was starving and exhausted. He finished the sandwich in four bites, and tried not to immediately collapse. He looked down at his jeans. She was right, they were nearly destroyed. Well, yet another thing that was ruined by this horrible day.
He sighed, changing and wiping off any remaining dirt and grime with a clean part of the towel. He still felt like he was in shock. His whole life, at least since he was 12 or so, had been a lie. His teen years, supposed to be for stupid choices and finding your footing, had been spent doubled over vomiting in his “doctor’s” basement. He had spent every day thinking he’d be dead soon, so why bother? Why pursue goals that would ultimately be cut short or impeded by his death? Why go to school, or learn a trade, or develop life skills he’d probably never use?
He felt anger welling up again, his face contorting, hands clutching the bed in futile rage as his nails started to rip at the fabric. No, no he needed to stay calm. The doctor wasn’t here, and as angry as he was, killing her wouldn’t change what had happened. It wouldn’t fix the past. Breathing deeply, slowly, Reese tried to calm himself. Erin had been right; there was evidence of an actual crime. The criminal system would have to be enough, for now.
As the anger faded, Reese felt utterly drained. He let himself fall on his side, collapsing into the lumpy, ancient mattress. He closed his eyes. He would just rest a minute, before Erin returned. Just a minute. He was so tired, and she had said he needed to sleep.
Erin carefully picked her way back up the stairs with another sandwich, starting to feel the fatigue of the day intensely. The bathroom held no antibiotic ointment (she wasn't sure why she was surprised; it barely held soap) and there had been no honey in the pantry. She’d read that alcohol and peroxide actually tended to make the wound worse, slowing healing. Perhaps boiled salt water? Saline solution was used to prevent infections after piercings and tooth extractions. She would have to go get something in the morning, though she wasn’t sure from where. Dr. Kelly had told her who was supplying the ricin, and the general store’s entire stock now seemed suspect. Jesus, she was going to have to tell Reese and Stella about that, and even worse, she was going to have to tell Kaneeka. But no, right now she had to focus on Reese, keeping Reese alive and safe and stable enough that no one panicked and shot him. Again. Maybe Stella would have some old vet supplies? At the very least she would have a decent supply of salt, with all the cooking she did.
"Well to no one's surprise, Tabitha doesn't have a first aid kit,” She announced as she rounded the corner. Reese lay on the bed, eyes closed, suspiciously still. She watched carefully, her chest suddenly tight with panic. Oh god, was the transformation a one time thing, like a bee sting, where you died afterwards? No, Dr. Kelly said he had started it before...but had he ever completed it? She anxiously eyed his chest, finally noticing the slight rise and fall. Thank god, just asleep.
Way to jump to the worst and least likely conclusion. He's exhausted, malnourished, and the adrenaline crash has just made it worse. You shouldn’t have even kept him up this long. He’s relying on you to care for him! Her mind scolded.
"Well excuse me for being jumpy and scattered after several days of nightmare fuel," she muttered under her breath. She put the sandwich down, pleased to see the empty plate resting on the nightstand. She looked down at Reese, seemingly passed out cold. She waved a hand in front of his face. No response. Yes, he was definitely out. He hadn’t even gotten under the covers. Well, she couldn’t say she blamed him. The full weight of what happened today - hunting for Stella, seeing the vision about Teddy Scarlet, discovering all those stories about shapeshifting humanoid cryptids were at least partially real, finding out Dr. Kelly really was poisoning her son (Erin had really hoped she had been wrong), finding out it was Sybil’s idea to poison him, knowing that Kaneeka was in that house with that witch - weighed on her heavily. For the moment she would let him sleep.
Opening the possum-free drawer of the dresser, Erin pulled out some sleep pants and a t-shirt. Tired as she was, she was not going to reduce herself to sleeping in hiking boots and jeans. Carefully glancing out the window to see if glowing eyes were watching her from the garden again, she scanned the garden and found nothing. Good. Even if Wayne claimed to mean well, it was a real creep move to watch someone's bedroom window, pretty sure that was the start of most true crime documentaries.
Finally taking off her boots and getting into something with a blessed elastic waist, Erin dumped her clothes in a makeshift hamper, and threw Reese’s “jeans,” if they even still qualified as that with the number of tears, in as well. Maybe she could patch them with some random fabric from a broken piece of furniture somewhere. She walked over to the bed, pulling back the covers on one side to sit. She looked at him, with his sharp angles and dark hair. His face was blank, a mask as he rested. She had never wanted to touch someone so badly. It was the feeling she got looking at a soft blanket, a beautiful flower, or a statue carved so well as to appear to be made of flesh and bone. A compulsion, almost.
She reached out. Reese had seemed to like being touched. No wonder, if Dr. Kelly really had been poisoning him since a year or two after puberty. She assumed the Klonopin had worked for a while, but even then, Reese would have been what, fourteen or fifteen when he started being poisoned? Given the side effects of ricin poisoning, he doubted he’d had much chance to be a teen, and if the doctor had been claiming he was immunocompromised, had Stella or Kaneeka ever felt safe hugging him, or touching him at all? Had he felt playful slaps after a particularly good joke at Kaneeka’s expense, or a shove from Stella as he pulled ahead in a race? Did his mother even hug him? She had read that babies that were not touched failed to thrive, and sometimes even died. Certainly he had been doted on as a child; Dr. Kelly’s demeanor when she recalled his childhood told her that much. But to lose all of that so suddenly...how had he survived? What must that have done to him?
"That feels nice." Reese said sleepily. Erin looked down at her hand. She had been absently stroking his hair while she thought. She startled slightly, surprised at her own actions. She opened her mouth but was unsure of what to say.
"Good, I like doing it,” was what she settled on. Well, that sounded kind of stupid, even if it was true. She bit back a sigh; the fatigue was getting to her. She was normally much less awkward. At least he wasn’t flinching away or trembling like he had earlier. The man deserved something gentle in his life. She smiled at the idea of being able to provide that something, that comfort. Seeing him happy was a deep, warm sensation in her chest. A softness in her face. A relaxation in her shoulders. It felt right. She started to lay down, propping herself up on one arm.
He yawned a little, sharp teeth showing - she was right, he did have sharper teeth now- and looked up at her, questioningly. She saw a very slight hint of color in his cheeks.
“Do you want to eat some more, or are you ready to sleep?” She asked softly, as kindly as she could. She wanted him to know it was up to him. He was in control of his life now. He seemed nervous anyway. She frowned, realizing she was still running her hand through his hair. Was that it? No, he had said he liked how that felt. She paused.
“What’s wrong?”
He avoided eye contact as he answered, “You, uh...are we both...” His face reddened, clearly feeling awkward at the question.
“Oh, yes, I figured we would. Frankly I’m not sure if any of the other rooms in the estate are even habitable, probably half falling apart based on what I’ve seen of the place, if not completely infested with mold, and I think Tabitha would actually kill me if I slept in her room.” She answered, trying to make light of it. She felt foolish for not thinking of this. Of course he'd feel odd sharing a bed with her, even if she wasn't a near stranger.
Reese blushed, this time seemed to be ashamed. "I uh....I... I've never really slept in a bed with someone else." He said, his voice soft. “I mean...you know not...” Reese seemed to be trying to make himself smaller, as if he was trying to hide something grotesque or shameful. What could be ugly about him, in his mind? She considered her next words carefully. She wanted to reassure him.
"I don’t usually either, actually, unless you count Truck. He really hates anyone taking his side of the bed.” She hoped that made him feel a little less weird. Frankly, she normally just preferred to hog all the blankets and sleep by herself, but enough supernatural and/or horrific events happening in a short span of time made everyone rethink what made them comfortable. “If it bothers you, I'm happy to sleep somewhere else," she started, wanting to make sure he knew it was his choice. But she considered how it must have felt, every day in your teens, to have people treat you as contagious, as a medical anomaly, perhaps even as gross or some kind of freak. She had been very popular in her teens, and really her whole life, but to not have that...she had read enough books with bullied protagonists to extrapolate. She continued. "But if it doesn’t bother you, I would really just like to be close to someone after everything that’s happened." She paused. That wasn't quite true.
"I would like to be close to you," she added. That was true.
Reese looked utterly astonished, but then his face quieted, looking a bit bashful but not uncertain, "I...I would like that too."
"Then it’s settled," she said firmly, as if agreeing to contract terms. Perhaps that was not the tone she wanted here. She tried again, softer. “I’m relieved honestly. I didn’t really want to sleep anywhere else. I don't want to be alone, and... It's just been such a hard week. It will be good to sleep next to someone I trust.” Erin reached out and took his hand. She hadn't just said that for Reese's benefit. She did trust him, she realized, and she didn't want to be alone. She smiled warmly at Reese. "Come here. It's been a long day."
Without letting go of her hand, Reese crawled under the covers with her. With her free hand, she reached up and lightly stroked his face. Reese let out the sigh of a man given water after days in the desert. To her surprise, he didn't even blush, just let his eyes stay closed, clearly enjoying the feel of her warm hands in his cool, smooth skin.
Erin let her own eyes close, focusing on the feel of Reese's face, the pressure of his hand in hers, the soft sound of his breath. The world had been turned upside down since she had arrived in this glorified company town a few days ago. The books always made this sort of thing seem so easy. A call to adventure, a hardship overcome, none of the main characters hurt or killed. But here, a man was dead, a girl was horribly injured, and on top of it ghosts were real, cryptids were real, magic or some semblance of it existed and was being used on people without their knowledge. But Reese was also real, and that made dealing with it a little easier.
Reese was convinced he was dreaming. This was all a dream. He was still in the morgue asleep, he had to be. At best he was asleep on the bed estate and Erin had not yet come back into the room. Erin’s warm hand resting on his jaw, her thumb stroking his cheek, there was no way that would happen in his real life. It was all he could do to keep his sigh from turning into a whimper. He wanted her touch so badly. He wanted to touch her. God, how had he gone this long without touch? When was the last time someone touched his face outside of a doctor’s office?
He opened his eyes, seeing Erin lying there with hers closed, a small smile on her face. He felt his hand reach out towards her, trembling. Embarrassed by the shaking, he stopped. In a dream he wouldn’t have trembled; he would have been confident, he thought. Then this was real. He was awake.
“You can touch me too.” He startled at the sound. Erin had opened her eyes and was looking at him. “Any way you like. If it’s too much or I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.” He looked at her, dubious. People had shrank from his touch for years, afraid of catching whatever he had. She stopped stroking his face, which did elicit a whimper from him, much to his shame, to reach out and placed his hand on her waist.
“Like this.” She said, running his hand up and down her side lightly. She smiled, letting go of both his hands and placing hers on either side of his face. Reese jumped, not expecting the change.
You’re a frightened little rabbit, not a man, not even a boy. You whine and whimper and jump out of your skin over the lightest touch. It’s pathetic.
“Reese, I like being touched, and I like being touched by you. It feels safe and comforting and warm. I realize you may not be used to it; it sounded like you’d been very isolated for a long time.” She paused, “It’s okay if it makes you nervous, it would honestly be weird if it didn’t, but if you like touching me or you want to hold me, I want you to.” Reese had no idea how to respond. Did he like touching her? He let his hand rest fully on her side, then pressed each finger in slightly, feeling the give of her skin under her shirt. Curiosity got the better of him, and he moved his hand a bit lower and did the same thing. He lightly drew a finger up and down, then all the way up to her shoulder. She smiled at him encouragingly.
“You know, I read once that a study, admittedly a small one and I don’t believe double blind, but you know, still, showed that humans can correctly guess an emotion being conveyed through brief touch far more often than random chance.” Reese ran his hand down her arm and back up. What was he trying to convey? He had no idea.
Erin continued, “And if you don’t spend enough time touching babies, they fail to thrive. It can stunt their growth, mentally and physically. That’s why it’s so important to start skin to skin contact shortly after birth.” Reese could believe that. He felt like he’d been failing to thrive for years, and it wasn’t just the poison. He traced a finger along her jawline, over her lips, her chin. She was so symmetrical. Erin had stopped talking, but Reese almost didn’t notice. He was taking in all her details, running his finger over her eyebrows, her ear. She would be lovely to draw; she was lovely to look at. She was lovely to touch.
He moved his hand to her waist and squeezed lightly. He moved his other hand to cup her face. She leaned her head into it and let out a happy, deep, humming sound. He smiled; he liked that noise. It was the noise someone made around someone they could trust, someone they could tell about their dreams and desires. He would only have made that noise for her, he thought.
His thumb stroked her face lightly, as she had done to him earlier. Her hands moved to hold his forearm, and he felt himself lean towards her, watching her face as a whole now, cautiously, curiously, as he ran his hand up and down her side as she had demonstrated. She had closed her eyes and relaxed into his hand and the pillow. Well, she seemed to like that. He reached further, pushing her shirt up slightly, and rubbed the small of her back in a small circle. He remembered liking that when he was tired or not feeling well.
“Hmmm that feels nice.” She muttered sleepily, smiling. She was so warm, and she felt soft, with a firmness underneath that seemed like muscle. Reese moved his hand up her back, trailing up her spine and she shivered. He blushed at how much he wanted to make her do that again. He suddenly wanted to be closer, to be touching as much of her as possible. He loved touching her. He needed to. He ran his hand down her thigh, allowing himself to touch her more firmly, and then back up her waist and down her arm. He touched the other side of her face, ran his fingers through her hair and down her neck.
He felt almost frenzied with the need to touch her. It was like a dam had broken inside of him and all the desire and need and ache for closeness came rushing out. Erin was right here, close enough to feel her body heat, to smell her sweat and shampoo, to hear her breathing, but it wasn’t close enough. His hand stopped on her lower back, and pulled her closer. She made a soft noise of surprise, and he felt a moment of panic. Had he done too much, had he stepped over a line? He couldn’t bear it if she pulled away but he couldn’t bear the idea of upsetting her either. But before he could say anything, change anything he was doing, Erin snuggled into his shoulder, hands pressed against his chest. He felt her soft chest and belly press against his own concave stomach and bird-like, bony rib cage. He ran his hand down her thigh again, pulling the crook of her knee towards him, resting her leg on top of his own.
It felt amazing, to be pressed against someone, to feel their curves and dips, their breath and their heartbeat. It was overwhelming after so long without so much as a hug, a handshake, anything other than a doctor’s exam. She was so warm. He couldn’t breathe. He put his arms around her, holding her to him. She hummed happily again. God, that noise. She liked touching him. No one liked touching him, no one liked being near him, but he had someone here curled up against him, happy and warm. He couldn’t think. He wanted to cry. Cry for all the years he had gone without this. Cry for everything he had missed out on, for his old self.
“It’s okay,” He heard Erin say. He was crying. He was an idiot, he’d ruined everything. Reese felt hot shame fill his face but he couldn’t stop. Erin reached up and wiped away some of the tears as they fell.
“It’s okay Reese, it’s okay to cry.” She said softly. He couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t look at her. He felt her arm wrap around him and hold him tighter, her leg pulling him closer to her. He sobbed harder. Who cried in bed with a beautiful woman? He really was pathetic.
He felt Erin reach up and stroke his hair, making comforting sounds. Reese wasn’t sure how long he cried, and he didn’t want to know. As the tears slowed and his voice returned, he looked at Erin, who lay with her head against his shoulder, still stroking his hair.
You ruined it. You’ve ruined everything. Here is someone who, against all logic and sanity, actually wanted to be near you, and you cry like a child at her touch. His thoughts laughed at him. He didn’t know what to say back. They were right.
“I’m-I’m sorry, I don’t know...I don’t know why that happened.” He struggled to get the sentence out. He hated himself.
“Because you needed it.” She said, as if stating something so simple and obvious it need not be said. Reese wasn't sure what to do with this reaction. She was still holding him, still caressing his hair, still pressed up against him, radiating warmth. He tried to soak it all in white he could. Surely she would leave now? Surely he would be alone again?
Perhaps his face showed his thoughts, or perhaps she really did know everything there was to know, because she continued softly. “You were so angry at the clinic, so overcome with rage and a need for revenge. I understood, but I was scared for you. Rage is what we feel when we aren’t ready to feel pain, or sadness, or grief. When it’s not safe, or it’s too much. Rage protects us in the moment, but it can hurt us too. Believe me, I know.” She smiled sadly, as if thinking of something that can only be learned from mistakes. Reese looked at her, seeing for the first time that there had been Erins before the version he met. What had they been like? As he wondered, he felt Erin pull his hand to her mouth, and kiss his palm lightly, before holding his hand to her face. For someone who was so bold and determined, Reese was surprised she could be so gentle. That she could be so...loving. That she was talking about us.
“But you’re safe now. You’re safe with me. So it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to grieve, and laugh, and hurt, and feel joy.” She smiled at him, and Reese felt suddenly lighter. Her face was so earnest and so open, so full of a need to convey acceptance and understanding, that he couldn’t tell himself it was a lie or that he misunderstood. He really was safe with her. He could trust her. He didn’t know what to say. How do you respond to such a statement of openness, such a display of trust? He wasn’t sure, so he held her close again.
“Thank you.” He said softly. She ran her hand up and down his back, returning his embrace. After a moment, she loosened her grip and looked at him.
“Of course,” she said, and stretched a bit into a yawn before continuing lightly. “But if you really want to thank me, you’ll close your eyes and try to sleep.” Another yawn, and she nuzzled into him, “Sleep is vital...for healing and...brain health. Even seems to remove...toxins and stuff.” She muttered sleepily. Reese stroked her hair lightly with a smile, closed his eyes, and let himself fall asleep.