AN: All of the episode oneshots have now been combined into one story series, for easy reading so you guys don't have to scour all over to find them all. I will also list whose point-of-view is used in the story above because they are all written from second-person.

Disclaimer: No, I still don't own it, but Christmas is coming and I'm staying hopeful. Mostly I just want to own it so I can find out what happens after that terrible cliffhanger at the end of season two. *grumpy face*

Set during "Pilot," Audrey's POV.

On the Edge of a Knife

You don't understand what is going on in this town. So many things happen here that you'd have never imagined outside of the cheap paperback fantasies you read. It's like you've fallen straight into a mystery novel, wrapped up in the disguise of a charming little seaside town. Things disappear, roads crack without explanation, a woman can control the weather with her emotions. The rational part of your brain wants to reject this place, pass it off as something else. Geological phenomenon. Global warming. Government testing gone wrong. A heaping helping of coincidence. Anything.

But at the same time, you can't bring yourself to do that. Haven is a mystery. A puzzle. And you love puzzles. Or rather you love solving puzzles. You are willing to believe the impossible if that's what the jigsaw pieces come together to form. You want - no, need - to find out the answers to this place.

Especially now that you've seen the Colorado Kid picture.

That woman might be your mother. Even from just the grainy black and white image you can see the resemblance. Her nose is a little sharper and her jaw a little narrower, but if her hair was blonde you could pass for at least sisters. You don't know who she is or how you're connected, but you need to find out. You've never had family before. And if she is your mother, well, then you want to ask her why. Why she left you in that orphanage instead of raising you herself. You need to know.

Of course you have no idea how much progress you'll make with these people. It amazes you the way they can completely ignore the things going on right in front of their noses. And it's not just some of them. It's all of them. They act like there's nothing strange going on, even as a woman's temper tantrum causes hurricane force winds in the middle of town, and FBI's most wanted are washing up dead on the beach. You can't tell whether it's because it happens so much they aren't fazed anymore, or if they're really just that ignorant. After seeing the expert way they can draw up cover stories from nowhere, you're inclined to think the former.

Which only makes you all the more determined to get answers. It's an authority issue you've always had. The more people tell you no, the more determined you are to do it. If only to prove them wrong. Because no matter what Nathan Wuornos tries to tell you, you know there's something going on in Haven.

You wrap your arms tighter around yourself, staring out across the water. It's close to sunset, little ripples of gold like spears over the gray water. From here, Haven looks picturesque. Little square buildings, a towering lighthouse, brightly coloured houses, and the long miles of beaches that edge town with their goldenrod sand and dark driftwood. Off to one side the sheer cliffs hover above the water, speckled with enormous pine trees.

But you know that there's so much more than what you can see on the surface. Secrets and shadows and mysteries are lurking beneath every rock and behind every wall. Especially here where you're standing on the beach, over the remains where the woman who looks so much like you stood almost thirty years ago. There's a story here but no one will share it. Not until you're one of them. People and creatures and ghosts all swirl together and they're dragging you under with them. Pulling you in. Even though you know it's happening, you're powerless to stop it. This place is claiming you. Possessing you. It's a terrifying thought.

Taking a deep breath, you pull out your cell phone and hit the speed dial. "Hey, you know that vacation time that I never use?" you ask rhetorically. Because of course he knows. He's the one always harassing you to cash it in. "I'm going to need a few weeks. There's something here I need to do."

This place is scary. But what really frightens you most is the fact that you're not scared at all.