The weather below the southern border this time of year was hot and dry. The sun stung your eyes if you didn't wear a hat and it was inevitable you were going to die in less than three days without water. There was a town, one of few, still left in that part of the world. It was small and had few travelers through, but it was as close to an oasis you could get. And on a small corner under the shade of trident maples an old convenience store still lived on. It was small, with flaking grey paint that covered sparse spots of worn ruddy brick. A neon "OPEN" sign still flickered persistently in the dark windows.
Arthur squinted against the light as he hopped over a familiar crack in the cement curb. He pushed open the door and only noted how hot the metal push bar was. Inside the air was slightly less horrid. The buzzing of an old air conditioner confirmed that while, technically, the room was cool, the slight humidity still clung to your skin wetly. The old yellow florescent lighting was bright during the day like this, but at night left an eerie muted sepia tone to even the most vibrant of colors. Old metal shelves held arrays of metal and glass bottles, jars, and tins of every sort imaginable, along with a myriad of dried and live plants. Arthur could just barely remember when shelves just like those would hold bags of cheese flavored snacks and plastic bottles filled with dark or neon sugar-filled liquid. Just barely though. That was forever ago it seemed.
Several people were in the shop, meandering around and looking at this or that bottle. A young girl on a step ladder was hanging herbs from a lattice on the ceiling. She was taller than last time Arthur was there. Her hair was still in long dark pigtails and she still wore that sky blue dress. Arthur never got her name. The girl rarely talked but often made excited gestures and sounds, and had a habit of rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.
"Arthur! Did you get shot again?" A deep voice laughed heartily.
Arthur smirked and turned to the other side of the store to see Alex coming out of the back room. "You wish. I'm not giving you any more of my money than I have to." His voice was two thirds country drawl and one third London, and laced with a calm cockiness that came with years of self assured skill in some field.
Alex sauntered up to Arthur at a mild pace and threw his arm around the smaller man and chuckled. With his other hand he adjusted the cigar between his lips. He patted Arthur's back roughly before making his way behind the counter.
Alex was one of the few doctors Arthur knew. A tall, thick, Cuban man who had no time for anything less than a pleasant day and no regard for those around him who didn't smoke.
"So, what is it then?" He asked, leaning against the yellowed counter.
"Just supplements. Anything you have." Arthur said casually.
Alex nodded and pulled a plastic bin out from under the counter, popping the blue top off and pulling out small glass jars. With large hands he carefully filled each jar with pills from different plastic bags, each marked in bold handwriting on beige masking tape labels. Arthur never knew where it was Alex got the pills but never really thought it mattered what with the world the way it was.
While Alex worked, he talked. "You're looking worse for wear. Get an assignment?"
Arthur frowned slightly and looked at himself in the long mirror on the wall behind the counter. His face was dirty, his hands and clothes dirtier. And it looked like he hadn't showered in a couple days. Which wasn't really untrue but he couldn't be blamed for that.
"Yes, unfortunately."
The taller man hummed in response. "Must be hard on the boys. How are they anyway? Still kicking up trouble?"
"Boys" meant Alfred and Matthew, Arthur's younger cousins. "Alfred more than ever. Damn kid's got some crazy idea in his head he's an adult. Matthew as always is just fine. Not a problem in the world with him."
Alex finished by pushing corks into the tops of each jar. "Good! Those boys are gonna grow up to be good men, just like their wonderful cousin I'm sure."
Arthur dug in the little bag attached to his belt and laughed, "Yeah, yeah take your damn money you know flattery doesn't work on me."
"That's what they all say and yet here I am, and here you are, coming back!" Alex winked as he caught the coins that were thrown at him. Arthur grabbed the jars and headed out.
"Keep talking like that and I might not!" Arthur called as he made his way out the door.
There were few places in this town like Alex's Apothecary. Arthur knew little about him, other than his Mother was a doctor and often researched natural medicine. Alex, although a very big hearted and generous man was still very much a mystery to most everyone.
Arthur threw the pills into his worn grey rucksack and looked around. He hadn't been below the Southern Border in at least four months and recollected little about the supposedly abandoned town. There was time to spare he supposed. The train near the edge of the border wasn't due to leave until late that night. With a little walking Arthur came upon the small circular building he'd been searching for. It was made of bright red bricks, and went relatively untouched by time. The roof tiles were dark green and covered with twigs and acorns from the trees around it. Glass panels formed a skylight between the roof and a small sloped top. A black wind vane stood still at the apex. Other than the skylight, one rounded window stood above the large tan double doors.
This building was arguably one of Arthur's favorites. It was the town library. He had stopped by every time he'd come into town. With lumbering steps he approached the doors, raising his hand and knocking them heavily a couple of times. There was silence. And then the sound of iron locks moving. One of the doors creaked open and a small man stood in its place. He didn't say anything, but he gestured for Arthur to come in. Arthur obliged. The two stood in silence as the door was closed and locked once more.
"Nice to see you again Kiku." Arthur said pleasantly.
Kiku was somewhat of an old friend. Not nearly as old as Alex, but round about. He had been talking with Alex one day about how he'd missed libraries. Most of them in his area didn't survive the anarchy brought on by the first seventy three hours of the disaster. Alex offhandedly mentioned the library in town kept by a quiet Japanese boy. Things had progressed from there. Kiku lent Arthur books as long as Arthur told him about his family. An odd exchange but worth it none the less.
"You too. Do you have the book from last time?" He asked politely.
"Ah, yeah. I'm sorry it's been so long." Arthur sighed, digging in the rucksack. "Work gets to me and then when I do get time off the boys keep me busy."
When Arthur found the book he held it out; Kiku lingered back for a second before accepting it. He didn't say anything. He rarely said much. When he did get to talking it was usually about whatever story Arthur was telling.
"How are they, your brothers I mean." Kiku questioned as he made his way down an aisle.
Arthur hung back before going down another aisle. At this point there was no correcting Kiku. He had referred to them as his brothers every time they talked.
"They're annoying as always. Getting into trouble. Well, Alfred at least." Arthur rambled without thinking. He focused more on the books than conversation. "The boy's an idiot. Thinking he's invincible will get him killed one day. Then what are Matt and I supposed to do? We've all lost people in The Fall. I don't know if Matt could take it if he lost Alfred too. Hell, I don't know if I could take it."
Arthur stopped and turned to Kiku, who had moved out into the open room, apologetically. "I didn't mean to...I'm sorry."
Kiku breathed deeply. "It's ok. That was a long time ago."
There was silence after that. Kiku had told him about his family only once. Parents and older brothers dead during a raid. He was so young and he lost everything. Arthur supposed that's why Kiku liked hearing so much about Alfred and Matthew. It helped him imagine what life might've been like. If The Fall had never happened, if this town never had to take him in, if his life had gone differently.
Arthur thought about that a lot too.
"How's about an old friend, then?" Arthur said casually, pulling out a battered copy of 1984 by George Orwell.
Kiku nodded and picked up a pen and offering it. Arthur took it and quickly scribbled his name down before handing the book to Kiku. The inside of the front cover was littered with signatures, both Kiku's and that of others. Whether from this town or far away Arthur never knew. But his name appeared more than once, maybe seven if you really wanted to decipher the scrawling lines from one another.
"Strange isn't it? How different the world turned out to be from what Mr. Orwell thought." Kiku muttered, then handed the book back.
"Instead of someone watching over us, we suddenly realize no one's there. Big Brother abandoned us and didn't even bother to stay and watch us fall apart. Ironic I'd say." Arthur said thoughtfully.
Little more was shared before Arthur left. He strolled through the town and watched life go on as normally as it could. It amazed him that many of the children playing outside that day would only know The Fall as a story. A tale told by their parents. A tale where "Big Brother" cut his losses and left the rest of them to ruin. A tale where those who were left rose from the ashes and started again. And those who lost everything had to learn the difference between surviving and living. A tale they would go on to tell their kids much like how a historian would tell about a World War he never served in. Detached and with glamour.
He supposed it would be for the best once he was long gone. But for now he was young and alive and the scars still throbbed. The Fall was the kind of disaster that shook the whole world. No one expected it and everyone was scared. Though, credit had to be given to the human race. As much as things now weren't perfect, most people were able to move on and live fairly normal lives.
For the hours left before the train Arthur had managed to get some jam and avocados from a local woman, as well as more bullets. When the time came to board the train the sky was dark and you could barely make out the smoke coming from the barrels of the monster. He paid his fare to the man at the door and made his way down aisles of seats. Most trains like this were old and wholeheartedly refurbished. It should be noted, however, that wholeheartedly did not mean well. The seats were still red and covered in velvet. Even if said velvet was threadbare in many areas. It no longer gave the air of elegant richness, but gave a nice air to most. A smug sense of pride if you were Arthur, who felt no shame in laying himself out where the rich used to traipse their way across the country.
The ride was long and Arthur slept through most of it. But as the sun rose he could see the old town station on the horizon. Looking around he found few people in the car, one of them he recognized but they only nodded in distant affirmation. They both departed from the station in separate directions without saying a word to one another. There was nothing to say. Not unless there was trouble.
'If there was trouble I would've woken up dead.' Arthur thought.
Makeshift stables were built outside of the station, looking startlingly old next to the more modern building. The boy running the stable recognized him and without instruction brought Arthur his horse. There was a brief exchange of money before Arthur set off.
Riding through the suburban neighborhoods was strange. It felt like playing cowboys and indians. Arthur broke through the scenery like a rusty knife through milk. Obviously out of place, but no one looked up from their conversations. People sat on porches and played cards. Kids rolled around on lawns and teenagers gathered in packs at the street corners. No one had ever imagined people riding by on horses would become the norm on streets where minivans once reigned supreme. Arthur almost felt relief when he rode into the country.
He lived far enough from the city that they were afforded a good amount of land and few neighbors. It was an hour or two until midday when he finally hopped off his horse and let it into the pasture. He paused and looked at his home, which he did often. The yellow house sat at the edge of a forest that wound around the vast property. At the very edge of the woods sat the small stable built for three horses. The house itself was small but Arthur, Matthew, and Alfred were only three people.
Arthur made his way to the steps leading to a wrap around porch. He passed the windows to the kitchen and noticed Matthew was home. The front door creaked slightly but slid open freely. The sound of a generator starting hummed through the screens in the windows.
"Home!" Arthur called over the din.
Matthew appeared in the door smiling as always. He was young, but tall and strong. Smart as hell too. "Finally."
The two of them met in the middle of the room and threw their arms around one another. With Arthur's job, it was impossible to say when it would be they'd hug for the last time.
"Your brother home too?" Arthur asked and shrugged off his coat.
Matthew made his way through the doorway and back into the kitchen. "Yeah. He just started the generator so I can work on lunch. Boss let us out early because he "felt rain coming" or something like that."
"Yeah 'in his bones'. I'm surprised the old fart can feel his own heartbeat anymore." Alfred laughed, announcing himself as loudly as possible followed by the screen door slamming behind him.
"Hello to you too Alfred." Arthur sighed.
"You just got home and you're already sighing at me." Alfred joked and threw his arms around Arthur.
"Get off me!" Arthur complained, but patted Alfred's back anyway.
The blond laughed and strutted into the kitchen to hopefully annoy his brother instead, calling "Love you too!" back at Arthur.
Arthur scoffed and started removing the gun holsters that laid at his hips, setting them on the old wooden table. It was scuffed and scratched but was still smooth to the touch and shiny with lacquer. Arthur clearly remembered the day he and Alfred went furniture "shopping". Technically it isn't stealing if the place was abandoned and a Goodwill. Arthur had figured the store still served it's purpose in a roundabout way while they heaved the thing and a couple other items into the back of a good samaritan's truck. If he were being honest, that's how they'd furnished most all of the house. Smiling at the memory Arthur shook his head and made his way into the kitchen. The cool tile floor felt good in the heat. Matthew stood next to the stove chopping carrots and potatoes.
"What's for lunch?" Arthur asked.
Matthew set the knife down and wiped his hands off on a towel before reaching for a pan above the island in the middle of the room. "Well, definitely fried potatoes and carrots. Maybe grilled cheese if Alfred would get off his ass and ride down to the corner store for some cheese." Matthew's voice lilted a couple notches higher in volume to address his brother in another room.
All he got in response was an exasperated "Oh my god I'm going!" followed by a muttered "Fuck."
"Anyway," Matthew continued. "It's gonna be a bit so if you want to go take a shower or something while the generator's going it'd be the perfect time."
Agreeing, Arthur ambled his way back through the dining room and past the bathroom. To the left a door opened on a staircase and another door to the living room. Upstairs was home to three fairly large bedrooms, where Arthur gathered fresh clothes before making his way back down to the bathroom.
It was raining at Cape Canaveral. The skies were dark and the air felt heavy. But that deterred Francis Bonnefoy little. He opened an umbrella as he stepped onto the loading platform that descended from the hull of the hulking ship he had been on for a good couple of days. A dark car pulled up as he reached the end, and it's doors opened swiftly so the young man could slide in as quickly as possible. Francis patted his long blonde hair down. In weather like this his hair tended to frizz and he had no qualms making it known he disliked that fact. The driver was a young man, early twenties, making him about the same age as Francis. His skin was tan and his hair curled in short brown strands. He looked much more suited to a bartender at one of the many clubs Francis had visited in Spain than someone who drove anyone paying to and fro. He was accompanied by a young woman with a curly blonde bob. They both had extraordinarily green eyes.
"Francis Bonnefoy I take it?" The man questioned, voice confirming Francis' first impression. The man was definitely Spanish.
"Oui." Francis replied. "And you?"
He got only a smile in return. "You can call me Toni." Toni's voice was even and pleasant. But it was altogether not one of a safe man. Francis had come in contact with many men like Toni in his short life. Most of whom were not the kind of men you wanted to upset. "This here," Toni motioned towards the woman, "Is Belle. My boss thought she might be a nice welcoming present."
Belle, which was undoubtedly a fake name, looked back at him and smiled. Well, it was a nice gesture at least.
"As much as I appreciate his efforts, and I do recommend you give my thanks to your boss, I don't think that will be necessary." Francis said smoothly.
"Shame. You're very handsome. Are you sure?" Belle asked, clearly trying to seduce him into compliance.
"Oh, very. While you are quite beautiful, I'm afraid my proclivity doesn't lean towards your feminine beauty." The Frenchman replied.
Belle, now no longer concerned about a paycheck shrugged his comment off and leaned back in her seat. Toni smirked at her and glimpsed at Francis in the rear view mirror bemusedly. The three set off on their long voyage, the next stop still hours away.
Their first stop involved a charging station. The car apparently was a hybrid, which was rare but not entirely impossible for someone like Toni's boss to own, and needed charged. Gas was far and little between in places like this. So they stopped somewhere that still managed to get electricity. Toni and Belle left the car telling Francis they would be leaving in about half an hour and Francis was welcome to roam if he pleased. He declined, happy to stay in the car if it meant staying dry and clean. The station wasn't exactly the most sanitary looking of all places. He almost hadn't noticed he'd dozed off after ten minutes. And he definitely hadn't noticed when it wasn't Toni who had opened the door and placed a cloth over his mouth.
Light faded in and out of Francis' vision. Noise was loud and he had trouble making sense of what was being said. A loud thump startled him before he completely blacked out.
Note: So yeah! It's literally been forever, and Fix has basically fallen out of my skill level in the past, what, year and a half-two years, since i last updated? I'm soooo sorry to anyone who loved Fix but I don't have plans to update it any time soon. If I ever find the passion for it again I might pick it up and re-write it though!
This has been a long fic in the making tbh. I created a book cover for it my Junior year of high school (and originally had no plans for it other than that we just had a book cover project in graphics) and have been slowly planning it out for the past year or so since then. I recently graduated and figured what better time to actually start writing again! I really think this story is great, rough around the edges as it is, and I really hope that all of you look forward to reading it!
I avidly encourage and appreciate comments and constructive criticism and I look forward to the growth of this world that's taken up so much of my mind in recent months!