August 22, 10:39 AM

Raine ushered the still-frail Ellone into the grocer and ignored the way her neighbors stared. Word spread of Ellone's return and of Laguna's continued absence. Raine stared back until they turned their gazes elsewhere.

She turned her attention to Ellone as they browsed the vegetables. Her complexion had improved with solid meals, but the shadows under her eyes did not go away. The lively, feisty little girl that left her returned a frail, exhausted, and haunted creature, and Raine didn't know how to fix that. All Raine could give her was love, for Ellone's sense of security was shattered, and there wasn't a thing Raine could do to protect her, as fat and bloated and pregnant as she was.

Though Raine's freezer still overflowed with single-serve portions she could thaw for dinner, Ellone would benefit more from healthy meals than she would from the carbohydrate and cheese heavy dishes the ladies provided. Ellone needed the nutrients from fresh things, not empty calories from pastas and over-baked casseroles.

Ellone would not talk about what happened to her. When Raine pushed or asked too many questions, Ellone's eyes welled with tears and she folded in on herself, arms wrapped tight around her legs and torso, and hid her face in her knees. Whatever happened, it left scars. A lot of them.

As far as the woman who brought her home, the details Ellone provided were sketchy at best.

"The police guys said she was an Es-ter spy," Ellone said. "But we didn't do no spying, swear! We just drove a lot."

"Any," Raine corrected. "You didn't do any spying. Did she know Laguna?"

"Yeah," Ellone said. "I guess they were friends or something. In the resis-sance."

"In the resistance?"

"Yep. Can I have some juice?"

"Of course you can," Raine said. "Did Laguna say he was coming home?"

"I dunno. He said he had some stuff to do. He said they were gonna make Adel go away," Ellone said. "I don't know how, 'cause she's really scary like a monster. He gave me a letter to give to you, but it got left in the car when the police 'rested the lady."

"Did you... meet the Sorceress, Ellone?"

Ellone nodded. Raine's heart nearly stopped. She could not imagine how terrifying it must have been for a grown woman, let alone a child, to face Adel in person.

"I didn't like her."

Then, she retreated into herself and refused to answer any more questions.

As they wandered past bins of fresh produce, a dull throb started low in Raine's abdomen. She pressed a hand to her stomach and frowned.

"Aunt Raine? Are you okay?"

"It's just the baby growing," Raine said. "So, what do you want for dinner? Should we get some green beans? Or maybe some broccoli?"

"Green beans. With bacon and brown sugar." Ellone said. She eyed the pints of fruit with hungry eyes and drifted toward the display of fresh summer raspberries. "Can we get these?"

"Of course, sweetie," Raine said. "We can have those for desert. Why don't you pick out a box and I'll get some cream?"

Ellone scrutinized the packages while Raine filled a bag with green beans and placed them in her basket. From the dairy case, she grabbed a small glass bottle of fresh heavy cream from a local farm.

"Well, well. So, the rumors are true."

Raine turned around and stared at the woman behind her. The last time they spoke in person, Bethany all but disowned her for marrying an outsider. Raine placed a protective hand against Ellone's shoulder, prepared for a disagreement.

"Bethany."

"Hello, Raine."

The other customers stared and waited for the inevitable confrontation. Their eyes bored into her, and never in her life did Raine feel so alone. In that moment, it seemed the entire town turned against her.

Raine had plenty of friends and people on her side, but Bethany was a formidable and dominant voice in this town. Whatever she said, people tended to go along with, even when she was wrong, and crossing her meant you placed a target on your chest and faced the firing squad.

Bethany could not be more wrong in this case. She feared a little girl with powers she never asked for. Hated a man she never bothered to get to know. Neither meant anyone any harm.

"So sorry to hear your husband left you," Bethany said. "I hate to say I told you so..."

"He didn't leave," Ellone said, small hands on her hips and her face defiant. "He's protecting his family!"

"Shh, Elle. Let me handle this."

"But she hates us," Ellone said and stomped her little foot. "She thinks I'm a... she thinks I'm a witch. That I do bad things like Adel."

Raine pulled Ellone closer, her arms draped around the girl's shoulders, but she fixed her gaze on Bethany.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Raine asked.

"No, I suppose not," Bethany said. She flicked her eyes to Ellone. "You've made your choices, haven't you?"

The pitying look she gave Raine proved too much. Raine, past the point of frustration and on the cusp of fury, snapped.

"We're family, Bethany," Raine said. "Blood."

"Not anymore," Bethany said in a petulant tone. "You chose others over blood. Remember?"

"She's just a child," Raine said. "You're a grown woman. Act like it."

"Good luck, Raine."

Raine held back tears as Bethany turned away and stalked out of the store. She turned Ellone around and straightened the collar of her dress.

"I'm sorry," Ellone said. "I didn't mean to make her mad."

"It's okay," Raine said. "But..."

What could she say? That Ellone should keep her secrets to herself? To never tell anyone about the things she knew?

As unusual as Ellone's gift was, and as scary as it could be, Raine did not want her to be ashamed of it. Not after everything she'd been through. Not after all she suffered for it.

"It's okay," she said again, firmer this time. "She's not mad at you."

"Yes, she is. She thinks they took all the girls 'cause of me, and she thinks you're stupid for marrying Laguna and for letting me come home."

Everyone in the store listened to their exchange and Raine pressed a finger to Ellone's lips.

"We'll talk about this later," Raine said. "Let's pay for our things, okay?"

As they left the store, dull pressure rippled through Raine's lower abdomen and pelvis. She placed a hand on her stomach, took a deep breath, and the pressure subsided.

Just gas. That was all. Probably from the cup of watered down coffee she wasn't supposed to drink at breakfast.

She took Ellone by the hand and they headed down the cobblestone sidewalk toward home, and that dull pressure remained the whole way there.

~o~

"Are we related?" Squall asked Jeremy. "You're my great uncle, right?"

"By marriage," Jeremy said. "My wife Bethany was your grandfather's cousin. She was real close with Raine when when Raine was a girl, but yer Ma was strong willed and did things her own way, and Bethany didn't like not bein' able to make her decisions for her. They didn't get on so well once Raine was old enough to choose for herself."

Jeremy cast his eyes toward the bar, the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Now, Raine invited us to the weddin', but Bethany refused to go on principal. Said yer Pa and that girl was gonna ruin her life," Jeremy said. "But, it really started back when Raine first took the child in. Bethany, she was terrified of that girl, and I mean terrified."

Ellone existed in some other-where, between mortal woman and Sorceress, with a gift no one quite understood. She spent her whole life a pariah. They called her a witch, evil, tainted, demon. They saw in her all the things they feared, in the secrets they kept, and in all the things they never wanted anyone to know about themselves.

It always had less to do with Ellone herself than with what people wanted to hide from the world, what they feared she might destroy with her truths, as if she spent every second of her day pillaging their secrets for her own gain.

"She was just a little girl," Squall said. "It wasn't her fault."

"I know that, son," Jeremy said. "But fear does funny things to folks. Maybe, someone thought it was better to give her up than be hostages in our own homes."

"She was a child," Squall repeated. "She was one of you."

"I ain't makin' excuses," Jeremy said. "I just know most folks are cowards, at heart. Most would sell their mama to save their own skin."

"That include you?"

"S'pose it would," Jeremy said. "I ain't too proud of my part in the whole thing."

Squall's stomach fluttered and he picked at the corner of the label on his bottle. This man could fill in the blanks if he let him. The question remained, did he want to hear the whole story, knowing how it turned out? Could he handle that? Or was it best to leave it alone?

It only then occurred to him that maybe, his own tendency toward unfriendliness was an inborn trait, rather than one he consciously cultivated. Pre-Rinoa Squall was not so different from these people. Maybe there were more things he had in common, not just with his mother, but this town and the people in it. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Tell me. All of it."

Jeremy cracked open a fresh beer and swallowed down half the bottle, then set it aside.

"There's somethin' you gotta understand about this town, son," Jeremy said. "We been through a lot of bad stuff over the years."

"The whole world's been through bad stuff," Squall said. "This town's not special."

"That's true, but most places got themselves an army or at least a police force. They got a means to fight back," Jeremy said. "We ain't got nothin' like that. We kept our noses out of the trouble, but the Army came for the menfolk first. Recruiters from the city, you know? Tempted all the young ones away with promises they never meant to keep."

Squall folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. His eyes still burned from the fire, and he reeked smoke, but if he didn't hear Jeremy out now, he never would.

"Those boys, most of 'em became cannon fodder," Jeremy said. "Most of 'em didn't come home, not even in a box."

"I know the history," Squall said. "And about the G-Army's recruiting tactics."

"Then you know they ain't done a thing for the families of the ones we lost," Jeremy said. "So you gotta understand, we ain't got no love of people who show up here outta the blue."

"Yeah," Squall said. "I gathered that. Get to the point."

Jeremy frowned at him over the rim of his beer bottle.

"Please," Squall said. "Go on."

"After that, Esthar came for the girls," Jeremy said, and his gaze went dark. "Got no idea how they knew about that girl, but they did. You know that story, I suppose, and how they came back for her later?"

Squall nodded.

"You know why?"

"Better than most," Squall said.

Jeremy spun the cap of his beer on the tabletop. Squall watched it cross the polished wood, reached out and stopped it before it flew off the edge and hit the floor. He clutched it in his palm, one side smooth, the other sharp with puckered metal.

"What's this got to do with my mother?" he asked. "Or why we were sent away?"

"Well, I reckon it's got everythin' to do with it," Jeremy said.

That hung between them for half a minute before Jeremy looked Squall in the eye. Behind him, Raine wiped down the spotless bar and hummed the notes of a familiar tune.

"Bethany, she was convinced that girl-"

"Her name's Ellone."

"Ellone," Jeremy said. "Bethany was convinced Ellone invited trouble, and she convinced all the other hens it was true. As little as she was, I didn't see no reason to punish her or Raine for what she couldn't help, but I didn't do nothin' to protect her, either. Not when they killed her family, and not when they came the second time... Still keeps me up at night, son."

Squall couldn't empathize. He understood Jeremy's reasons, and even the reasons of the townspeople, but he could not manage even a little bit of sympathy for any of them. They let a family die because they were too afraid to stand up and intervene when a few of their own needed protection. They let Ellone be taken to save themselves, a sacrifice to the gods of war.

"Me an' Bethany, we didn't get on so well after it was all said and done," Jeremy said. "but that ain't your problem and it ain't what you need to hear about."

"Was she the one who gave Esthar Ellone's name?" Squall asked.

"I can't say," Jeremy said. "I got my suspicions, but... I never knew the truth."

"You ever ask?"

"Never got the chance," Jeremy said. He sighed, finished his beer and looked at Squall again. "She passed not long after yer Ma. I'd like to think she died of a guilty conscience."

"Because she sent us away?" Squall asked with a frown.

"Naw. Because she didn't do nothin to help when Raine went into labor and Ellone came knockin'. She didn't even answer the goddamned door."

Squall went stiff.

"Are you saying... Was it just the two of them?"

"There was an awful storm that night," Jeremy said. "Never seen nothin' like it..."

~o~

August 22, 18:03 PM

"The Galbadian Weather Service has issued a severe storm warning for Winhill and the area surrounding. Expect squalls and downpours, with rainfall amounts of 3-5 inches overnight. Some storms may produce intense lightning and winds in excess of 60 miles per hour. Flooding is possible in low lying areas. Structural damage and debris is possible with stronger storms. Citizens are advised to stay indoors."

"What's a squall?" Ellone asked as she snapped the ends off a green bean.

"It's a..." Raine thought back to the book she'd read about weather phenomenons and tried to recall the definition. "It's a strong wind mixed with rain, I think."

"Like a thunderstorm?"

"Sometimes," Raine said. "Not always."

"I'm not afraid of lightning," Ellone said. "It's the thunder that's scary."

Raine smiled as Ellone tossed a green bean into the pot that sat between them on the table.

"It makes everything all shaky," Ellone said. "I feel it in my belly."

"The thunder can't hurt you," Raine said. "How many green beans do you have left in your pile?"

Ellone peered down at the table and shrugged. "A bunch."

"Count them for me," Raine said.

Ellone frowned. "How come?"

"Did you have school where you were?" Raine asked.

Ellone shrugged. "Sort of. Dr. Odine taught me about magic and pol-ticks and stuff."

"Magic?"

"He said my memory stuff is magic," Ellone said. "I'm kinda like a Sorceress, but not. He said some people only get little pieces of it, so they can sometimes do cool stuff, but they don't go crazy."

A knot formed in Raine's throat.

"Did he teach you math? Reading?"

"No," Ellone said. "But I can read already. And I hate math."

That dull pressure in Raine's abdomen returned, not painful exactly, but stronger than before, and more like the tensing of a sore muscle. She wondered if something she ate had gone rancid.

The ladies told her she could expect something like this, as her body changed to accommodate the child. They said not to be too worried about aches or pains unless the pain became severe. This was not severe, just slightly uncomfortable.

"You're making a funny face," Ellone said.

"The baby's moving," Raine said. "Do you want to feel?"

Ellone nodded and stood up. Raine took Ellone's small hand and laid it against her stomach. Ellone's eyes went wide and round, her smile was toothy and unrestrained. As if the baby sensed her there, a flurry of kicks beat against Raine's side.

"That feels weird," Ellone said. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know yet," Raine said. "We won't know until he or she is born."

"Does it have a name?"

"Not yet," Raine said. "I was hoping you could help choose one."

The pressure came again, sharper this time and Raine grimaced as the baby's foot hit her in the ribs.

"Let's get dinner started, and you can help me pick out some names, okay?"

"Okay," Ellone agreed with real enthusiasm. "I know some good ones."

What a relief, to see that haunted quality leave her dark eyes, even if only for a minute. Raine smoothed Ellone's hair back and kissed her forehead, then sent her back to her task while Raine started the chicken.

Ellone ate with gusto, as if still half-starved. Raine offered seconds and Ellone ate those too, plus a second roll smeared with honey and butter.

"What about Zephyr?" Ellone asked. "Like in the story?"

Raine smiled. "Maybe."

"What does it mean?"

"Well, it's the opposite of a squall," Raine said. "A gentle breeze instead of a stormy wind."

"Oh," Ellone said and pondered that for a minute. "What about... Zephyr for a girl. Squall for a boy."

"Hmm. Maybe," Raine said. "Those are both good names. I'll add them to the list."

Ellone helped clean up the dinner dishes, but a tiredness crept into her face as she stood on her step stool at the sink and scrubbed the plates.

"Why don't you go get ready for bed?" Raine suggested. "I'll finish this up, okay?"

As Raine dried the last dish, another weather warning blared from the radio.

"Residents of Winhill are urged to take cover, as this storm is expected to produce hail, heavy rain and winds in excess of 70 miles per hour."

Raine went to the window and peeked outside, vigilant for any sign of the foul weather.

As if on cue, a low, loud peal of thunder rattled the windows, but the night outside remained calm. No wind, no rain, just Winhill's usual quiet streets and empty sidewalks.

A wide-eyed Ellone emerged from the bathroom in pajamas and Raine invited her to share her bed through the storm. Normally, Raine kept strict rules about that, but Ellone's fragile state warranted an exception.

Ellone curled up in her arms as the rain began to beat against the roof and the wind picked up, but it wasn't long before the girl was fast asleep. Lightning flickered at the windows and the gale howled in the eaves and Raine lay awake as the dull throb became a steady, warm ache.

She dozed, but came fully awake when a sharp pain ripped through her back and her hips. She sat up, and felt something burst, then a warm wetness between her legs. For a second, she thought Ellone wet the bed, then realized what it was. Her water had broken.

Too soon. Too soon. The baby wasn't due for almost two months.

She doubled over as the first real contraction came on and gasped at the intensity of it. The ladies all said to expect something less painful than depicted in movies, something more like bad menstrual cramps at first, but this...

Something was wrong. She sensed it in her bones. Something was wrong with her, with the baby, and she got up in a panic as the pain subsided. She reached for the light switch, but when she flipped it, the room remained dark.

At the window, darkness prevailed. No amber glow from the street lamps, no welcoming beacons from neighbor's porch lights, every window on the street dark.

The power was out.

She cried out as the next contraction hit her, far too soon after the last, and this one felt like something demonic clawed at her from the inside. On her knees on the hardwood floor, Raine clutched her midsection and panted through the worst of it.

"Elle, wake up."

Ellone didn't hear her whisper, or her whimper when she stood to return to the bed.

The pain came back, sharper and hotter than before. Lighting lit up the room, followed almost immediately by a roll of thunder that shook the floorboards and rattled the dishes in the cabinets.

"Ellone. Wake up. I need you. The baby's coming."

~o~

"Ellone braved the storm to get yer Ma some help," Jeremy said. "Either no one heard her knockin' over all the noise, or they didn't answer because they was afraid."

Squall stared at the man, his heart pounding in his chest.

They let her die. They ignored a little girl's call for help out of spite and fear, and his mother died because of it.

He pictured Ellone, soaking wet, skinny and desperate, going from door to door, only to be ignored or rejected at every last one.

She never once hinted the reason his mother passed away had something to do with these horrible people and their stupid grudges. Never once did she mention it was anything more than complications or the lack of medical care available at the time.

Not once did Ellone ever say she and Raine were left to fend for themselves.

The anger started low in his gut, a breathlessness, an ache that multiplied and swelled the longer he sat there and watched the specter of his mother behind the bar.

He thought of her dying alone, with only a six year old girl there to care for her. Then, he thought of what it must have been like for Ellone and his anger became a cold, slithering fire in his chest.

"I don't know what happened after," Jeremy said. "All I know is that come dawn, your Ma was dead and Bethany and Marci found that little girl hiding under the bed with you all bundled up in a blanket."

He was right all along. Knowing did not ease his conscience. It did not bring closure.

"Bethany blamed you and Ellone for your Ma dyin' like that," Jeremy said. "Few days later, a woman came from Centra and that was the last any of us seen or heard of you."

Not one person in this shitty little town lifted a finger to help. Not her family. Not her friends. All because of their prejudice against that which they didn't understand.

A tear escaped from the corner of Squall's eye and he wiped it away, got up and opened the door from the street.

Small mind, ugly prejudices, even hatred hid behind those quaint, cute, well-kept houses. Not such a nice place to live after all.

"And they say SeeDs are monsters," Squall said to the street.

Behind him, Jeremy's chair legs scraped against the wood floor and soft, uneven footfalls thrummed through the boards beneath Squall's feet as Jeremy approached.

"It wasn't you that killed her," Jeremy said. "I know I said that before, but it ain't true. It was ignorance that did her in, plain and simple."

"Is... Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Squall asked. "You think I'll forgive you because you accept blame? Because you didn't actively hate us, you just stood aside and allowed others to?"

"I don't expect no forgiveness," Jeremy said. "None of us deserve it."

"I've never wanted to hate something so much in my life," he said. "Get out."

"You gotta understand -"

"I understand perfectly," Squall said. "Get. Out."

The man stepped outside, his cheeks wet with tears and Squall slammed the door behind him. He stalked up the stairs to the bathroom, turned the cold water on in the shower as far as it could go and stepped under the stream, both to cool off and to wash away the stink of the fire from his skin.

It wasn't often Squall Leonhart cried. He could count on one hand the number of times after childhood, that he shed a single tear, but as he stood under the icy water, it came out in quiet but painful sobs that forced him to lean into the tile.

His phone began to ring, but he ignored it and forced himself to calm down. What was done was done. The only thing to do now was finish up what he could and leave this place behind forever. He wanted nothing to do with this town, or these people ever again.

Notes:

Yeah, the planned 4 chapters turned into 5. I'm hoping I can get the last one up by the deadline, but I scrapped like 50% of the final chapter because it didn't make any sense, and in my rush to finish it, I forgot to wrap up a certain plot point. So... anyway. One more.

Also, when I started this fic, I intended it to be a lot less sad than it turned out. Apparently, I have two speeds: angst or crack fic. This was supposed to be a little of both and mostly fluff, but somehow it got angsty, so I apologize to anyone who expected something a little lighter.

(If you haven't already, please go check out the other entries Successor Challenge and support those authors by leaving them reviews!)

Thanks for reading and for the reviews! :)