“You look upset.” Echoed a voice from the shadows. Lucky kept her pace, one foot in front of another. The last thing she needed was a distraction while she was trying to cross through the shadow realm. There was only darkness, but she could smell the rot - a sickly sweet smell like fermented fruit. From the corner of her eye she could make out the swish of a tail from beside her, the fox hadn’t taken the hint.
“Leave me alone.” Lucky mumbled, feeling the darkness push against her mind's eye. As many years as she’d been doing this, it was always the same. The shadow realm wanted to keep her, wanted her to forget who she was or where she was going until there was only darkness.
“You know I could help...if you talked to me.” Spoke the fox, his voice was deep and intelligent.
“I know what you’re doing and I’m not having it. I don’t want your help, you always take the long way.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a bit of your time in exchange. You rarely visit longer than a few hours anymore.” His tone reminded her of how fathers talked to their children on television, firm and paternal but laced with affection. The fox had known her most of her life, seen her grow up and in many ways had been kinder to her than her own father ever had. When she was younger he had been her only guide through the shadow realm, but Lucky had learned to navigate through on her own over time. When she didn’t say anything he spoke again. “You’re distracted, you’re not thinking straight. How do you expect to find your way out?”
She could feel her emotions start to surface, obscuring her vision like a dark cloud. Lucky’s eyes narrowed as she focused, her shoulders tensing and she quickened her pace. “Leave. Me. Alone.”
Lucky didn’t look to see if he disappeared, pushing through the darkness shoving her emotions aside to focus on her destination. She couldn’t even try to gauge how much time had passed, it took too much mind power. Every second was a battle, pushing against the shadows that pushed against the edges of the vision in her mind like a vignette. Knots of guilt and betrayal tangling around one another in the pit of her stomach tugged at her focus, her breath ragged as she struggled to concentrate.
Hours passed - maybe more maybe less she couldn’t tell, an entryway appeared in the distance alone in the darkness. The chestnut colored door was lit by a single yellow light hanging from above the A-framed awning. The ground beneath resembled water, ripples going out from underneath it like rings in a tree trunk. Each step was heavier than the next, her emotions iron shackles binding her down. Her screams were muffled, the door dematerializing as flashes of Luther, Santino, Grim and Remedy cracked through her mental barrier. Lucky gritted her teeth, putting her last bit of energy into her last few feet, focusing her vision. The brass door knob was solid under her touch, Lucky exhaled roughly as she rotated her wrist, hearing the click of the latch.
She pulled the door open, light spilling into the darkness - enveloping her, pulling her from the shadows and spitting her back out. When she opened her eyes, it took several blinks to adjust to the sunlight shining through the trees around her. Bright spots filtered her vision as she took in her surroundings. Behind her was the same door as in the darkness, now attached to a wooden cabin, landing on a small porch with a bench for her to throw herself on.
Lucky leaned over the wooden bannister behind the bench, dry heaving through the exhaustion and emotions that broke through the barrier the second she stepped into the light. Every time she blinked she saw their faces. Everything was falling apart, burning one bridge after the next. She didn’t know if this was the place to be but she couldn’t stand being in the same city as the rest of them a second longer.
There was a strange silence in the woods that Lucky had never liked. Lucky had always fashioned herself more of a city girl - needed the hustle and bustle of lives around her to remind her to keep moving. She had never done well with being alone, maybe that had to do with all the times their father tied her up in a room filled with mirrors and lights - alone... Although he’d probably say she was just weak.
Gavin seemed to seek isolation, settling in some remote cabin in a town where the population could barely fill up a Motel 6 if they wanted to. Lucky didn’t know why she had decided to come here, or what she planned to say….she had tried to say something to their dad. She even went back after Santino’s - snuck back into her room to sleep it off and decided to tell her father in the morning. Her mother had already washed the dress she had left the night before; hung it up with her school uniforms and training gear from when they were still a team, like Lucky still lived there.
She had tossed and turned all night, the weight of Grim and Remedy’s secret sitting heavy on her chest making it hard to breathe. Over and over like a video on a loop she saw Luther’s face when he saw her react with horror, Grim’s face twisted with guilt, Remedy’s when she had stormed out….followed by the grand finale of Santi’s look of shock when she tried kissing him. When she opened her eyes all she could think about was every time her other siblings could be thinking about Luther - mourning him while she knew he wasn’t really dead. It turned her stomach.
Once she finally pulled herself up, all Lucky wanted to do was to talk to one other sibling - one other person who could understand. So there she was, on Gavin’s doorstep holding herself together by a thread just trying to make sense of it all. No words could make sense of the situation. Remedy and Grim’s pleads rang in her mind, begging her to keep their secret for Luther’s sake. She could feel herself being torn in two, wondering what was her point in coming here in the first place. What would Gavin do if he found out? Would he tell the others? What if their father found out? Lucky shook her head, too terrified to think of what kind of atrocities her father would have in store for Luther if he had found out. Lucky sat on the bench, trembling with indecision and staring into her hands as if they held the answers.
Gavin had chosen to stay home, the day was bright and warm enough that he felt like being lazy. Lounging along the wooden furniture in the little area he called a living room. It wasn’t really, not with it being so closely attached to a pseudo-kitchen and laundry area. He chose to live modestly, deliberately minimalist, almost clinically clean of personal effects.
The TV had long since been turned off, the static noise of daytime television more annoying than enjoyable. Instead, he lay with an arm flung over his face, eyes closed, though not sleeping. He listened to the noises around him; one would say the forest was silent because they rarely noticed the distant hum of its energy. The whistle of the wind through the trees, carrying crackling leaves in its breeze. He felt that tiny sting of isolation, the withdrawal of himself into the back of his own mind, where he was alone... Alone in that big house, all those rooms echoing his voice back to him. A tiny boy looking into mirror reflections of himself, sans the mirror.
He jolted then, more awake than ever.
Something had happened, some subtle shift in the world around him. He had been alone so long, rarely even did anyone from the town get invited here, he knew when his peace was being disturbed. Hyper aware of it in fact.
Gavin stood, passed by a shelf sparsely decorated by pictures and holiday cards. Memories that he only allowed to exist only in this one portion of space. He ignored them as usual and went to the three windows that lined the front of his cabin. The sunlight dimmed by the dirt that he allowed to accumulate on the glass. The world seemed to have slowed to a stop, frozen in time. Nothing moved, nothing besides -
His lips thinned into a tight frown.
Seconds later he opened the front door, stepping into the sunlight.
“Lucky.” He spoke her name, though was unsure if she could hear him with the way she was staring so intently into her hands.
He took a long moment to examine her, she was different this time. He didn’t think the change of usual venue was the issue either. They didn’t meet here, ever, and he had often assumed she knew that this was a boundary. A line that he bristled at people crossing. His space, where he could hide away from the world. Each day he came home he left everything else in the world behind that door.
He didn't do domestic.
But the way she looked just then…
He stepped closer into her personal space, reaching out to lightly touch her hands and break the stare. Then gripped tighter, unsure of himself. But he forced a smile anyways because he could tell she didn't need grumpy Gavin in that moment. He could be a decent brother, just for now.
“Come inside.” The words left him before he could think about taking it back. Maybe he didnt want to take it back. He could admit that he missed his family sometimes, even if it was only the tiniest of bits and if that meant allowing her into his home - his sanctuary, then he could deal with that. “I've got a brand new bottle of Whiskey, or beer, whatever.”
Lucky gave an empty stare, pools of amber blinking back at Gavin unfamiliar with the look in his eyes. Concern? Lucky had spent so much time taking care of others she didn’t recognize what it looked like when someone was worried about her. Something reached into her chest to grab ahold of the tangle of emotions, gripping it and pulling it into the depth of her stomach. Her stomach turned, shoulders hunching over to compensate and try to hold the sick in.
The words spilled out on their own, unable to stop herself. All her life she had been looking out for Grim and Remedy. It went against her very nature to sell them out. Every way Lucky tried to tell Gavin she couldn’t, the words halting at her lips. She kept her eyes averted, couldn’t stand looking at him, the guilt eating her from the inside out. Lucky poured herself a glass of whiskey, forgoing a sense of reservation she would usually have if Gavin had invited her into his home. The first glass went down like a cold glass of water on a hot day, when she poured the second Lucky looked back at her brother with a look of defeat.
“I’m sorry,” Lucky mumbled, “I shouldn't have come.”
Maybe you shouldn't have. Gavin bites down on the words in his head. Locks them down tight, knowing that the fragile peace between them could be shattered in a matter of seconds. He's reminded suddenly of the few times he'd ever seen Lucky look so defeated before. In the days where Gavin was wound tighter and tighter by each word spoken to him. The strings fraying and ready to snap at any given moment. He’s long passed being an angry teenager, can handle his emotions to a different degree. Tries to tell himself that he's a grown ass adult that shouldn't be holding so many grudges.
“And yet here you are.” He says, keeping a neutral tone.
Of course that's easier said than done.
Probably should be sober for this. Gavin thinks to himself, but that doesn't stop him from rooting around the fridge for a beer. The lesser of two evils in comparison to hard liquor. He can tell this is going to be one of those times he needs to take the edge off. He chooses to lean against a wall instead of taking a seat anywhere, needs the ability to shift and pace as he pleases.
“Somethings wrong,” He begins, watching her closely. “Something back...at the Academy?” He prompts, hoping that she'll open up with a bit of help. He can't imagine what else she would be here for. Why she would come to him. Even in the past they rarely spoke of their lives - they rarely spoke of anything that mattered really. Safer that way for the both of them given Gavins temper. In most cases even mentioning the Academy was enough incentive for his mood to rapidly change.
Lucky shook her head violently before staring back into her glass for a moment, caught off guard by her own laughter.
“Fuck, I almost wish it was….then it wouldn’t be my problem.” Lucky’s voice was dripping with cynicism, dulcet despondence. Her fingers played with the glass in her hand, wondering how hard she could squeeze it before it’d shatter. She took a long drink as she sauntered to a plush chair, the bottle of whiskey tucked under her arm and speaking over her glass. “Although I was just there yesterday...saw mom. Fucked off before the old man showed up.”
She threw back the last of her drink, wondering how many she’d have to drink to flood the weight that was pushing on her chest. Probably would have to get alcohol poisoning before it felt like enough. Her legs draped over the arm of the chair, glass haphazardly held between her finger tips, an accident waiting to happen. Anger was bubbling over - at Grim and Rem, at herself, at their father. What made her any different from him if she kept this from the others? She gritted her teeth, biting back the truth as she spoke. “What would you do if you had to keep a secret that hurt others, but protected someone you loved?”
Gavin was thrown for a loop. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts on that. ‘Protect someone you loved.’
“I think,” he begins hesitantly, careful to keep his voice calm and steady. But he could feel something rising in his chest, a bubble of anger that never quite went away. An age old grievance he still kept a tight hold of, no matter how many times he and Lucky made up. “It depends on the level of hurt it's going to cause and who is going to get stuck with the fallout if it ever...stops being a secret.”
He doesn't say it out loud, but experience and suspicion tell him that something isn't right here. That whatever secret she's keeping isn’t going to be told to him. Putting him on the ‘people it hurts’ side of things. Why else would she be here, yet dodging around the fucking bush so much. ‘Protect someone you loved’ continued to bounce around the back of his mind. That old feeling of isolation was creeping back Into his bones. Familiar, burning in its intensity, becoming a numbness in his hands.
“You know Lucky, I don't get you sometimes - you can tell me things you know, it's not like I've got anyone else to tell.” He doesn't mean it in a cruel way, despite the twist to his lips when it comes out. But it's the truth all the same. He really doesn't get her or her motivations, whatever makes her tick is so far out of Gavins depth he doesn't even know where to begin but he knows that despite that he doesn't want to see her struggling.
He just can't help the bitter edges from poking through.
Lucky could smell Gavin’s anger, an acrid fume that filled the room. She recognized the bite in his bark; the cut along his words edge. She knows him too well, better than he might give her credit for….maybe he knew her better than she gave him credit for. Not that she had done a good job disguising her emotions, too exhausted to try, really. Should have never come here….dragged him into this mess. Set herself up for failure really - was it intentional? Out of all the siblings she chose to come here, to Gavin. The one among them who had always felt left out, lingering at the fringe of their world always watching from afar. Lucky thought she had came here for that reason because he could relate to how she was feeling, but maybe it was because she was used to keeping things from him.
“Not everything is that simple,” She finally said. Lucky was tired of lying, tired of being lied to. It was all cyclical. No sense in denying something that Gavin already knew - Lucky had a secret, one she couldn’t share. Not really a lie, she tells herself. ‘Cause she needed to start manipulating what lies were to help her understand the reality they were creating around her. She poured herself another (was it 3, or 4 now?), booze wouldn’t make things better, but it made it all a little easier to bear. Gavin’s bitterness was mirrored in the inflection of Lucky’s voice as she held out a glass as if to toast him, “Ignorance is bliss, knowledge is a burden.”
She doesn’t wait for Gavin to clink glasses to take her drink, knowing she’s struck a nerve. Something siblings were great at, Lucky especially.
“It’s not about just telling one person a secret, it’s about the burden of that secret. It doesn’t matter how much you trust the person to keep it. It’s a decision between pain and more pain, and telling you or anyone - that’s just spreading more pain. Then when it’s not a secret….” She trailed off, horrified by the prospect of The Monocle getting his hands on Luther.
“Then when it's not a secret, more pain.” He finishes for her, his own aggravation rising with each word. “That's what you're getting at yeah. No matter what you do it's going to hurt someone.” He stared at her for a long moment, cold blue looking into deep amber. It was selfish but in that moment he could only think of himself. Think of all the ways that he'd previously been hurt by family and how this was just going to lead right back to that place. Back to Gavin being left on the sidelines, clutching frantically at the fraying strings of his heart. He needed something stronger than beer.
He pushed off the wall, motioned for the whiskey. Gavin chose to ignore the existence of glasses altogether and pulled straight from the bottle. It burned all the way down, warming him from the inside out. Loosening a few of those jagged pieces just enough for him to look at her clearly. Standing closer now, fully frowning.
“Why come to me Lucky, why come here at all?” The gravity of his words came crashing down around them. Destructive, painful, but utterly spoken with such vindication that they couldn't be taken back. They were words he never dared to speak before, in fear that it would break them apart. Gavins stomach twisted painfully, an internal struggle against himself and against Lucky. He wanted to be there for her, but that was a buried emotion now. Beneath the burn of alcohol, the secrets, and the cryptic bullshit that kept spilling out between them.
“That’s a good question,” she said, more to herself than Gavin. The dread began to settle along with her certainty, the realization that he already knew there was something she was keeping him; that she crashed into his sacred place just to reopen old wounds. Her fingers clenched around her glass, resisting the urge to throw it against the wall. Too many emotions all conflicting she never had to wade through before, drowning her. Back then Lucky had the luxury of blaming everything on the old man, nowadays she just dipped before things got too complicated. Somehow the chaos managed to orchestrate the universe around her to place her right in the center of it all, divided.
“I guess I hoped seeing you would change things….but they don’t.”
She knows that cuts deep, means it to. Has to push him away. Can’t look at him because she’s hurt enough people in the last 36 hours, she can’t stand to watch as she hurts another.
Her words are blistering. It's like a blender going full tilt inside of him then. Slicing through organ and muscle and bones. Gavin flounders for something to say, something equally as devastating. Payback for the things he's feeling just then. But words fail him, stuck to his glue-trap tongue. His eyes shut, fingers pinching the skin between his brows - its agonizing, knowing that he shouldn't be getting fired up. Shouldn't be acting as if he didn't expect this.
After all, this is what he was best at; being the eternal outsider. A nobody, a nothing, just some guy that continued existing while everyone looked the other way. He wanted to scream at her, to shout until his voice crackled and his lungs gave out. But what would that do? Nothing, it wouldn't make a dent in who they were. In the seperate ways they walked.
"Poor choice," He mumbles, "Not much out there I'm capable of changing." He rubs his eyes wearily. They're getting nowhere fast and he can't stop the rising ache in his chest. He puts the bottle back to his lips and gulps down far more than he should. Feels detached from himself as he caps it and sets it on a little side table just between them.
"Nothing has changed," He smothers a hysterical laugh. Meaning it in more than one way, nothing between them, and nothing for her. It's always the same, no matter what they try to do. Gavin doesn't know what more he can do, he's tired. Beyond it in fact. He's done, entirely done, with nothing left to give over of himself. He holds out a hand to her, helps her to her feet from the chair.
His arms circle her, just for the briefest of moments. I’m sorry, he wants to say, I’m sorry that all we do is find ways to hurt each other more. But he doesn’t, can’t bear to let those words come out. A matter of pride, a conscious efforts to pretend that he’s in the right. Hardens his heart against the lies, and the secrets. That was always the way they operated.
He wants to say, I love you Luck, it’ll all be alright.
But it wouldn’t be the truth.
And so he chooses his next words out of anger instead.
"Get out." Don’t come back.
Lucky had forgotten what Gavin’s arms felt like, holding her breath when he held her to keep herself from crumpling under his touch. She could see from the outside looking in, the cruel consequences of her actions playing out in real time. Gavin’s words pass through her, her heart numb from overexposure. She wanted him to yell. To curse her out, call her names. Do something to give her a reason to stay away forever - after all, another burnt bridge at this point was just a statistic.
Was this how the old man ended up alone? Telling himself he was acting with best interests of others in his heart every time he shackled them or poked them with needles. Lucky had always wondered how he could sleep at night, alien or not his atrocities couldn’t be that easy to dismiss. She had to tell herself that he had some form of regret, some sort of consequence for his actions - something that wounded him like he had wounded them. Standing now in front of Gavin, numb and withered - Lucky realized the old man didn’t feel anything at all anymore, probably hadn’t for a long time.
Funny how you always end up turning into your parents. Lucky has always thought between the two she’d end up like Gracey girl not dear old dad: she didn’t mind playing house with older rich men, looked great in a A-line skirt and red lipstick….
“Yeah -” Her voice fails, coughing to clear her throat - aggravated from suffocating unwanted apologies. “I’ll, uh - show myself out.”