Overhead, the evening sky loomed so menacingly that Credence felt it might have swallowed him whole, not unlike how he felt with the daunting task in front of him now.

He pressed his hat to his head, the wind threatening to steal it away. The only thing keeping him moving forward, was the possibility that he might find the child Graves wanted, which he so far he had failed miserably at.

It had been weeks since his last encounter with Graves and the man may have very well abandoned him by now, seeing as how useless he'd been. An uneasy pressure welled up in his chest, like a snake was coiling up around him. The very idea was suffocating.

Stopping, he pressed hands over his face and inhaled deeply, pulling down slowly. A large droplet splattered into his eye and from the side of blurred vision a light shot out from a boy's hand into the bin beside him, sending it clanging and rolling into the streets with trash scattering.

Wide eyed, the boy and Credence froze, staring at each other. Then all at once, the rain began crashing down and the boy bolted with Credence following suit, sending Mary Lou's fliers flying.

Credence's shoes slid on the wet cement as he rounded the corner after the boy, down the muddy alley of a building. The boy tumbled soggy boxes in Credence's way, dropping something in the process and Credence's feet slipped, sending him face first into the mud.

Out of breath, Credence's hands sunk into the grime as he heaved himself up, watching helplessly as the boy got over the chain link fence and out of sight. His hand smeared a heavy layer of mud away from his cheek, a cut stinging with the tinge of blood and soot from its impact on the cement. The rain soaked through his clothes, heavy, cold, and miserable. In front of him laid an empty firework canister the child had dropped.

As he walked back up the streets to home he paused to drop momentarily onto the steps of the Nickels' Family grocery. The rain had slowed into a pitiful drizzle on empty streets. The lights in the shop were out, like most of the other shops down the street. He wasn't certain what time it was, but knew it was past a reasonable time for him to return home without consequences.

He pinched the spot between his eyes, his head throbbing from the impact on the cement. If Graves had abandoned him, he wouldn't be able to blame him. Great wizard? The notion was almost laughable.

The ting of the shop bell behind him nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. The shop girl, whose name he wasn't sure of, stood in the doorway eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and sleepiness. She rubbed her eye slowly and for a moment she seemed to look more through him than at him.

He felt heat climb up his neck and cheeks, burning hot when she seemed to focus on him. Long ginger curls fell down to the waist of a white nightgown that reached barefooted toes and despite being modest, he felt a lump forming in his throat.

The family had recently moved into the shop, but he'd only come across her a handful of times and found himself at a loss for words. His heart seeming to speed up in time to the rain that was beginning to pour again.

He was just about to duck his head and apologize for appearing at her doorstep at this hour when she spoke.

"You're the Barebone boy…" She spoke quietly, in a whisper and leaning in as if afraid someone might hear. Her voice wasn't a question as much as a statement.

Beyond her, into the shop he could only see darkness. And instead of turning on the lights, she seemed to have opted for a candle carrier. The flame flickered in the wind and she cupped a hand over it to protect it. She glanced back into the shop, listening carefully for a moment. He pulled his hat from his head and began to wring it nervously. He dipped his head.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, I-"

"Why on earth are you all dirty?" Her whisper was suddenly bewildered and he gaped at her, too embarrassed to admit he'd fallen in the mud. She cocked her head to the side with a slight, sympathetic shake of her head. "Oh, your mother is going to have an awful fit if she sees this."

Mary Lou. Of course, that's how she knew him. The girl held out her hand to him and whispered gently.

"Well, come on, I'll help."

He stared at her hand, longing sink into his stomach with a mixture of uncertainty and fear. He was not at liberty to deny her at this point, the rain roaring behind him with no sign of stopping soon. And Mary Lou would beat him regardless of when he showed now.

How appropriate would this look, though? The son of a well known religious freak being led away by a girl in her night clothes. The scandal. Mary Lou would probably murder him on the spot.

But he felt drawn in by the soft gaze she studied him with. Kind, wide eyes the color of roasted chestnuts, warm and inviting. A small, reassuring smile turned up at her lips at his hesitation, soothing. He took her hand and allowed himself to be led inside.

As they reached the bottom stairs he started to sheepishly compliment her home out of niceties, even though he could hardly see it, but he was shushed almost immediately; quietly, and much closer to his face than he was sure he should like.

"If Daddy catches you here, we might both see hell on earth."

He held his breath, peering into the darkness nervously. Had Mary Lou met Mr. Nickels yet? Would the man be able to place him? Up on the second floor, faint snoring emitted ominously from somewhere in the darkness.

Turning to him again, a delicate, long finger met her lips for silence before leading him to the third floor and quickly pulled him into a room closest to the stairs.

The door clicked shut quietly behind her with the turn of the lock.

He peered around curiously, feeling out of place in her bedroom. Lace curtains hung in the window and at the side of her bed, a small rug to protect her feet from the cold. A knitted blanket thrown across the end of her bed. Compared to Mary Lou's church, the room felt delicate and homey. Was this the 'female touch' that he often heard people speak of? Mary Lou seemed to lack it.

In a room connected to her's, he walked forwards to the sound of water running, steam rising off the top of a tub into cool air. They stood in the bathroom in awkward silence. A scarlet blush slowly creeped its way across her face, causing his own face to burn.

Their eyes met and realization flickered across her face. She reached up and touched the burning spots on her cheeks then hurried past him out the bathroom with a ducked head. She said hesitantly.

"Put your clothes outside the bathroom door, and I'll do my best with them."

With that she shut the door behind her, standing still with her fingertips pressed to her lips in uncertainty. Thud, Thud, Thud. Her heart beat, she'd never had a man other than her father in her bedroom before, much less undressing to bathe in her tub. She wasn't quite sure what to do with herself, waiting till the bathroom door had cracked open and clothes were set out from the sliver of entry.

She couldn't help but, glance down at the bare arm that set out the clothes. She gasped at her own immodesty, snatching his clothes and quickly hurried out the room and down into the back of the first floor where she could scrub at the mud in their kitchen sink.

She could still feel the heat burning her cheeks. She hadn't even gotten his name, much less given her's. How rude of her. With certainty however, her only goal was to get him home and not have him end up in pieces. She'd seen the look of fear across the youngest daughter's face when Mary Lou had raised a hand to her. And, she'd seen the empty look in the oldest daughter's eyes, and the fresh lashes across the boy's hands when he'd taken their bags.

A deep aching in her chest caused her to stop scrubbing, hands resting in the soapy suds for a moment. He might have thought at the time that she couldn't possibly have known what they were from, but once you're familiar with what to look for, it's not hard to know.