Author's Notes: I've posted this story on another site and I wanted to see what the reception would be on this one. Updates will be fairly quick, as I've got a majority of it already written. Hopefully, you will enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Sad.
The Great Love
Part One
I.
The guitar was out of tune. It had been out of tune for years, and the slightly off kilter notes don't deter the old, gnarled fingers playing them.
Behind the broken guitar is a woman, an old woman who has seen countless things. Her hair falls in long, gray curls down the length of her back. She doesn't bother to sweep it back when a wayward curl falls into her eye. A wry grin spreads itself across her lined face and she stops playing for a moment.
"Hey you kids!" Her voice is raspy and dry and it stops the children – playing across the survivor's camp – in their tracks. Parents look up from their work and shake their heads when they realize who is yelling. "C'mere!"
The children follow the command reluctantly. They sit in front of her when she indicates for them to rest in the grass. "Ya wanna hear a story?"
One brave child rolls his eyes, "We already heard all yer stories!"
"Ya haven't heard this one," she snaps, "Now, just set yer butt down and we'll get to it!" She mutters something about 'little bastards' and 'guns'.
No one speaks up again.
Her fingers ghost over the strings, not making a sound, before she plays one perfectly imperfect note and begins:
"Well, ya'll know about the Great War, I bet, but do ya know 'bout the Great Love?" A short pause, and then – without really waiting for a response – she continued, "Didn't think so."
II.
time it was and what a time it was, a time of innocence, a time of confidences
The guitar is out of tune.
But Ashley doesn't mind – she's just so happy to have an instrument in her hands for the first time in so long (it feels like years, probably is) that she doesn't mind the sound. She hadn't even checked it before she shoved five bucks into the rough hands of an old man in the Underground. When it was revealed in the harsh daylight, cracks and scratches were evident all along the body. An especially prominent crack ran from the neck down, seemingly splitting the instrument in half.
Madison had almost killed her when she had returned, beaten guitar in hand and a skip in her step. She had ranted on, muttering things like 'captured' and 'leaving me alone', but Ashley was preoccupied by her new possession.
She plopped down on a log by the ashes of their campfire from the night before and began to play. Shakily, at first, because of the long span of time that had passed since she last played. Her fingers gained confidence slowly as they fluttered across the strings, bringing forth odd sounds.
Her companion, when she took a second to breath during her tirade and realized Ashley was no longer listening (most likely never had been), sank down – with a exaggerated sigh and a flick of her thick, long dark hair – onto another log across the fire pit.
Ashley's mouth spreads into a wide grin, her husky voice mischievous. "Any requests?"
"How 'bout you take that piece of shit back and get our money?" Madison glared fiercely, but Ashley laughed brazenly; she was used to Madison's moods.
"You need to lighten up, babe." Madison shakes her head and sulks, crossing her arms and pouting childishly. Ashley lets her, knowing she'll stop soon enough if she doesn't indulge the petulant Latina.
A light, jumpy tune begins to form under Ashley's hands and she taps her foot along to the music happily. She doesn't bother to move a strand of dark curly hair when it falls in her muddy brown eyes.
"We should head into the Underground again, tomorrow, pick up some more supplies." Ashley looks up at the other girl, who had decided to speak up mere minutes after her overstated show of annoyance.
Ashley raises an eyebrow, "Oh, look who's decided to join the party."
"Fuck you," Madison rolls her eyes, "we need some things if we're going to head out soon." Ashley nods, eyebrows furrowing. "How much money do we have left?" They had managed to get a fairly sizeable stash of money the last time they had found suitable jobs. Before the seekers found them, that is. After that, they hadn't been able to find any safe work for quite some time.
Ashley gave her a sheepish look. Madison's eyes narrowed, "How much, Ash'?"
"Relax, relax Mads." Ashley set the guitar down, holding out her hands to try and placate the other girl.
"Ashley! How much money is left?" Madison was used to Ashley's methods of diversion and sidestepped them easily.
"Uh…a couple bucks, maybe three?"
"A couple bucks? How much did you spend on that damn thing?" She gestured wildly toward the guitar currently leaning on the log next to Ashley's leg.
"Probably more than I should tell you."
"Jesus, Ash'! What the hell are we gonna do? You knew we needed that money!"
"Ok, calm down, Mads, we'll figure something out.
"I can't believe you could be that reckless!" A pause. "Actually, yes I can," Ashley was nothing if not impulsive, "I just don't get why you were so stupid. The way we're going, there isn't any way to get more. I was counting on that money, Ash'."
"Look, it'll be okay. We've survived on less."
"And I was looking forward to having a fucking comfortable existence for once!" Madison was sounding more and more distraught as she went on, tears forming in her eyes. Ashley rushed over and enveloped Madison in her strong arms. Years of running, along with her former captivity, had broken the girl down in more ways than one. She could never be as tough as Ashley was.
Madison sobbed into the shoulder of Ashley's dark leather jacket as the curly haired girl rubbed her back soothingly, murmuring comforting words into her ear. Ashley was very good at provoking her pain – most of the time without meaning to – but better, much better, at soothing it.
After a time, the tears waned and Madison's head rose. Wet green looked into dark brown, "You're gonna be the death of me, Ash'"
Ashley laughed, holding the other girl tightly still, "Maybe."
When Madison was calm again, Ashley returned to her former seat, taking the guitar in hand once again. This time, when the musician asked for any requests, the other girl simply said, "Play something cheerful."
Ashley did so, happily.
Later, when the soft sounds had lulled Madison into a drowsy state and the fire had been built up to ward off the chill of night, a rustling came from the bushes off beyond the ruins of the Old Regime, where the two girls had set up camp.
Fingers stilled over still vibrating strings and Madison's eyes shot open, back tensing. Another sound came from the same area and Ashley set the guitar down – slowly as to not make any noise. She crouched low and reached into her waistband for her gun, reassured by its weight in her hand. She looked over to Madison and saw her in a similar position with her own gun in her shaking hands. Their eyes said the same thing: seekers.
Ashley gestured for her to remain – Madison nodded and looked to her with nervous eyes – and she set off stealthily for the source of the sounds. Her bare feet made no noise as she moved slowly.
As she got closer, a low moan sounded and she stopped, body tense and waiting. When no other sound came, she continued. When she was close enough, she used her free hand to draw back the leaves of greenery, the other holding her gun aloft.
What she saw left her immobile, staring at the cause of the sounds in confusion. (A young girl, hair shining in the sun. "Love you, Ash'!")
It was Madison's whispering of her name that broke her trance, and she ushered the other girl over, whispering an urgent "C'mere!"
Madison came, though reluctantly, and she gasped as she saw what Ashley had.
A girl lay in the dirt, clothes in tatters, traces of blood evident across her slight body and blonde hair fanning out behind her on the ground. She looked almost like an angel.
"Who is it?" Madison murmured.
"I don't know." Ashley was preoccupied by the unidentified girl, only absently answering the other girl's question. Another moan, a quieter one, escaped from the girl's lips.
"Well, what should we do?"
Instead of answering, Ashley bent down, bringing her arms under the nameless girl's back and legs, picking her up with minimal effort. The girl's bright hair fell limp in a wave as she was lifted.
"Ash', what're you doing!"
Again, Ashley didn't answer, simply walking back to their small camp with the small weight of the girl in her arms. Madison followed anxiously.
"We don't even know who she is. She could be a spy!" At that, the girl shifted in the Ashley's muscular arms, curling inward toward her chest and letting out a heavy sigh. A small smile formed on Ashley's lips.
"She's not a spy." Her voice was whisper soft as she set the angelic girl down in the dirt near the fire.
Madison rolled her eyes, "How the hell would you know?"
Ashley sighed, "Mads, can you just get me some water and a blanket."
The other girl did as she was told, muttering under her breath the whole time. When she returned, Ashley was leaning over the girl on the ground, studying her with a soft smile. Madison grunted to get the other girl's attention and shoved the requested items into her hands as soon as she turned.
Ashley ignored Madison's obvious irritation in favor of taking care of the mystery girl. She lifted the girl's head and set the blanket under it, folded up. Then, she slapped the girl's cheek lightly, whispering for her to wake up. The girl stirred, groaning painfully.
Her eyebrow's furrowed and she writhed in place, stretching as much as her aching muscles would allow. When she opened her eyes – a brilliant baby blue color – Ashley saw someone else, for a second. She was running, hair billowing behind her and (blue) eyes sparkling.
Then Ashley blinked and there was a different pair of blue looking at her curiously. "Who are you?" The girl's voice was raspy, unused. Ashley didn't reply – she grabbed the cup of water Madison had retrieved and put it to the blonde girl's lips, allowing her to drink greedily. "Thank you," the girl said, voice a little better but still hoarse.
"No problem."
There was a pause – minutes, maybe hours – while the girls just looked at each other, Ashley seeing something else, a little lost in her own head.
Madison finally broke the silence from her place on the sidelines, "Who the hell are you?" It was almost a growl and the blonde girl looked to her with confusion – she hadn't realized there was another girl in the vicinity. Madison stood on the other side of the fire, flames dancing across her body and lighting up her smooth features. Her arms were crossed and eyebrows raised as she regarded the injured girl with disdain.
"Uh…I'm…," she looked to both of the girls nervously, "I-I'm Spencer." She relaxed slightly when she saw the blank looks on their faces. No one asked for a last name – no one had last names anymore, not really.
"Well, Spencer, what are you doing here?" Madison's aggravation is tangible, and Ashley's not really sure where it all is coming from.
"I-I don't know," She rises up on her elbows, looking around confusedly, "I don't know how I got here." Madison snorts derisively. "Can you help me?"
Madison begins to protest, but Ashley cuts her off. "Sure we will." A wide grin spreads across her mouth. "I'm Ashley." She holds out her hand confidently and Spencer takes it with hesitation. "That's Madison," she tips her head in the other girl's direction, Spencer's hand still comfortably encompassed in hers.
--
It seemed the injuries were less severe than they had seemed: a few bruises and scratches, but nothing too serious. Spencer felt better already.
"So, Spencer, where're you from?"
Spencer looked up from her meal (at least, the measly meal that Madison and Ashley could scrounge up – they were running a little low, but the curly haired girl insisted on giving Spencer anything she needed) at Ashley, who had asked her the question. Madison sat on the other log, sullen and silent.
She shifted and tugged a little at the clothes Ashley had leant her, a pair of sweatpants and a faded black tee. "Uh…well, all over, really. We moved around a lot. You know, with the war and everything." Ashley nodded her head in understanding.
"Where's your family?"
"Uh...I don't really know." She gives a thin smile. "We were separated a long time ago."
"Sorry to hear that." Madison sounds almost sincere, and Spencer looks to her, startled. "My parents died when I was young," she offers as explanation and shrugs. The blonde nods and Madison smiles tightly.
"So," Ashley claps her hands together to break the somber moment, a wide grin forming, "who's ready for some music?" Spencer looks confused and Madison rolls her eyes.
The curly haired girl picks up her trusty (well, not so trusty) instrument and strums the strings, finding the sound just that side of in tune, once again. She doesn't mind this time, and she doesn't think she'll mind for a long time after. It feels almost right, the guitar settled against her body, fitting her wonderfully. She feels good, with Spencer's soft smile and Madison's grumpy, yet somehow encouraging, look.
She begins playing, settling into a rhythm. It sounds better, somehow, with the blonde girl smiling at her and Madison is even starting to enjoy the music, the peeved look on her face receding.
It is an easy tune she is playing, and Ashley let her mind wander as her fingers played the simple notes. This mystery girl has caught her attention. She knows it isn't the most intelligent decision to allow a stranger to stay with them, especially with the New Regime looming over them, gaining power every day. Spies were everywhere, and the curly-haired girl was well aware of that. But something about this girl struck something within Ashley, reminded her of someone long past.
But she didn't need to think about that.
She speeds up her fingers, picks something more complicated to concentrate on.
Her eyes only leave the strings once during her performance – one that left her fingers sore and hand aching – and they meet Spencer's. They remain there for innumerable seconds before Madison makes a sound to the left of the girls and the blonde looks down with a shy smile, making Ashley grin.
Ashley stops playing sometime around midnight, setting the guitar down carefully on the ground, far away from the fire. Madison is already asleep in her blankets by the fire, snoring loudly. Ashley shakes her head and grins at the sight.
She then turns her attention to Spencer, who is sitting on a log, fidgeting uncomfortably. Ashley stands and grabs her own blankets, tossing them to the other girl. "Here, you take those. I'll sleep without them."
"Oh no, I couldn't do that." She tries to give them back to the curly-haired girl, but Ashley is stubborn.
"Just take 'em. I don't need the warmth." Spencer lowers her hands, clutching the blankets (that have a slight scent of cinnamon to them) to her chest.
"T-Thank you."
"No problem." And with that, the dark-haired girl strips off her jacket and lies on the ground, placing the item under her head as a makeshift pillow. Spencer stands for a few more moments before placing the blankets on the ground in a bed-like shape and lying down on them, pulling one over herself. The last thing she sees before closing her eyes and letting sleep take her is Ashley, shivering in the cold.
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