Taylor Hebert was bullied. She was an outcast. Her friends betrayed her, their friends mocked her, and her teachers were at best indifferent. Her mother was gone, and part of her father died with her.
She couldn't recall the last time her father had, well, acted like a father. Their interactions, when they actually occurred, were so… impersonal.
Ultimately, Taylor Hebert stood alone. She faced the world alone.
On her darkest days, on the days when it all became too much, the library at Winslow High was there. There was a dark corner in the library, a cubby hole underneath a computer desk, where she could hide. It served as her redoubt, her sanctuary, her very own fortress of solitude.
Her mother had been a literature professor, so perhaps a library being her most secure place wasn't all together too surprising. She spent countless hours in that library, in that hole in the wall, curled around a book, reading. At first, she absorbed the classics, books her mother had read to her when she was a child.
One day, early in the school year, she chose something different. It was a spur of the moment decision, after returning a book with a muttered thanks, and a brief observation of the limited selection.
Of all things, she chose a geology textbook. She wasn't sure why. Something about the picture on the front of the book, a lone mountain piercing the sky, standing alone, it spoke to her.
Initially, the writing of the textbook put her off.
Her experience lay with the passionate, emotional sentences of famous works of fiction, of long, elaborate passages and vivid descriptions. It did not lay with the cold and detached texts of the physical sciences, of the curt and clinical formal reports of geomorphic structures.
After the first two pages, she nearly called it quits. She looked at the cover again, at the monument to nature. She persevered.
Slowly, it grew on her. She became fascinated with geology. She learned the lone mountain on the cover was a real geologic structure in the state of Montana. She learned that it was something called a laccolith. An extinct volcano, spent before it had the chance to erupt, her mighty magma chambers solidifying into a vast sea of igneous rock trapped between stratified sedimentary rock, lithified remnants of primordial ocean beds.
Taylor could only imagine the stories those ancient rocks could tell, were they able to speak.
It awed her, how over hundreds upon hundreds of years, millions upon millions of tons of earth, of rock and stone, could be shifted, could be thrust upwards by the forces of the Earth. How molten rock below the surface of the Earth was under such intense pressure that a mere outlet for it could conspire to create such magnificent monuments to the natural world.
It was no wonder, Taylor Hebert reflected, that so many different cultures, so many different peoples, would worship these titanic structures. She could think of no more fitting metaphor for a structure that influenced the natural order with its very presence, whose form altered the course of human history, who towered thousands of meters over the landscape like an indifferent god.
Where other girls would have capes like Alexandria or Legend as their heroes, Taylor Hebert had mountains and volcanoes.
It changed her life.
Just like other girls sought to emulate their heroes, Taylor sought to emulate mountains. Above all the myriad of characteristics mountains possessed, perhaps their most awe-inspiring trait was their endurance.
Taylor learned of the everlasting war erosion waged upon those distant peaks. Of how wind and rain, tectonic forces and the climate itself challenged their claim to the heavens. Taylor read of the Rocky Mountains, and the constant assault they suffered, of the sheer strength and might of glaciers they withstood.
And how yet they remained, after 35 million years of standing alone.
If, Taylor reflected, if she could have even a fraction of that endurance, perhaps she could face her demons, she could withstand her bullies, she could reconnect with her father.
So Taylor adopted a new philosophy. She would be the rock and the stone, she would be the mountain and the volcano. She would endure.
This new philosophy was soon put to the test.
The mockery around her never changed. She could hear Madison and her friends talking, their insulting comments, their honeyed poison. And yet Taylor held her head up high. If she was a mountain, their voices were but the biting winds circling her summit. They carved at her, altered her, but they could not put her down.
Sophia's physical abuse was different, and yet the same. Her trips and punches were the shifting of the Earth beneath her. Her foundation would waver and fracture, but it, she, would not break, would not bow. Her head remained high.
And then Emma came.
"...cry for a week" Her voice came, a toxic barb aimed to unbalance her, to make her collapse.
"...it's your fault your mother died" Her voice rang, a hook designed to do nothing more than sink deep into her, and tear her apart.
Taylor breathed in. Her vision swam. Her shoulders hunched. The trio leaned in like hyenas staring at an injured animal.
Taylor exhaled. Her shoulders straightened. Her vision cleared. And she endured.
Emma's barbs were the glaciers and the ice. They would grind at her and seep into fractures, damaging her in the most insidious of ways. They would destabilize her, make her suffer under her own weight. They would reduce vast expanses of her stony flanks to rubble. And yet she remained strong, her head remained upright. She wavered, she shook, but her head still touched the stars.
At home, her philosophy was stressed.
"How was school?" Her father, Danny Hebert, asked her at the dinner table. It was just a social nicety he was observing, she felt.
Taylor stared down at her food, absentmindedly shifting around the microwaved takeout with a plastic fork.
"Good." Taylor replied sullenly.
Danny looked at her, opening his mouth as if to say something. And then he sighed, closing it and focusing back on his food.
Silence reigned, only broken by the rustling of paper plates and forks. Taylor shifted.
Something in her told her this was wrong. No. She had told herself she would endure. She would not flee from her problems, she would not hide from them, she would not otherwise avoid them. She was the rock and the stone, she was the mountain. Her problems would break upon her, like stormclouds broke upon the summit.
This silence would not continue to reign. She would not permit it.
"Actually," Taylor began, "I've been learning about geology at school."
Danny looked up, an eyebrow raised. "Geology?"
She nodded, a smile slowly spreading across her face. She began to speak. She wove a tale of continental collisions and oceanic subductions, of orogenies and magmatic intrusions, of faults and foliation.
Danny listened to his daughter speak. He heard the passion in her voice, saw the excitement in her expression. It reminded him of her mother when she'd talked of works of literature.
Outside of the occasional clarifying question, Danny didn't talk much in their conversation. He didn't even understand most of what Taylor was speaking of. He was a blue collar worker, focused on spreadsheets and labor, of steel and cargo. But nonetheless, it was a conversation. It was the most Taylor and him had spoken in what seemed like years.
It was a start. Their relationship wouldn't be mended overnight, in the span of one conversation. But things had changed, and would continue to change.
And for Danny, that was enough.
Weight that he hadn't realized was on him was lifting off his shoulders, as he continued to listen to his daughter ramble about something she called the Laramide Orogeny, and how it related to the Rocky Mountains.
Danny Hebert returned his daughter's smile in full.
It was more than enough.
Her mindset helped her. Taylor finally felt like she was doing more than merely surviving. She was, in her own way, thriving. She was finally managing to submit assignments. Her grades were, for the first time in over a year, rising once more.
She would complete them in the sanctuary of her library cubby hole, writing essays under the light provided by a cheap penlight, or she would complete them at home, with her teacher's permission and under her father's watchful eye, when he was home. She would immediately hand them in. Assignments and other schoolwork had an odd habit of disappearing from her bag or her locker, and so she avoided using either.
In another world, she might've brought a flute to school to help her cope, one of the last remnants of her mother. In this world, a simple textbook reminding her of the beauty that still existed in the world somehow managed to be enough.
But a mindset could only go so far. Taylor had understood this.
She'd begun to train her physical body. Progress was painfully slow at first, but once the ball started rolling, her progress skyrocketed, along with her appetite.
Maybe it was immature spite over Sophia Hess being a trackstar or maybe her admiration of mountains and volcanoes was a bit too much, or perhaps she simply respected her dad's worry for her, but she refused to train via running.
Taylor trained almost entirely in calisthenics. Burpees and jump squats were especially horrific at first, seemingly draining all her energy away within the first few minutes, if not seconds, but she was rock and stone, she was a mountain. She endured.
Sweat splattered upon an exercise mat covering the concrete floor of their basement. Taylor breathed heavily, her arms and legs burning with exertion.
She closed her eyes as they stung from sweat, and forced herself to complete the last burpee of her set. Her arms shook as she sunk into another pushup position, but she did not allow herself to touch the ground. She pushed herself up, propelling herself upwards until she was standing at her full height. She ran a hand through her hair before opening her eyes once more, reaching to her side and grabbing her glasses, placing them upon her face.
An old mirror stood across from her, and she looked at it. She studied her form as it shifted around, traveling through her cool down stretches. They were muscle memory at this point, she'd done them that much.
It had only been a handful of months, just under the better part of a year, but her progress was already very visible. Gone was the skinny, frog looking girl. In her place stood a confident young woman, her head held high and her shoulders straight. Her legs and arms were no longer toothpicks. Now they were laced with lean, corded muscle.
Taylor smiled, lifting her arm and clenching her fist, watching the muscles in her forearm shift and flex with the motion.
She still had a long way to go, but no mountain was uplifted in a day. Taylor looked out the basement window. It was snowing.
Time had flown since she'd found that geology textbook. Her winter break was approaching fast, and for the first time in a very long while, Taylor would be spending it alone, with her father likely as her only companion.
And, Taylor reflected, she honestly was alright with that. If a mountain could stand alone for millions of years, she could stand alone for however long it took her to graduate high school.
She'd clawed her way this far, a little solitude wasn't going to end her.
"Taylor!"
In her reflection, Taylor could see her lips quirk upwards.
"Down here Dad!" She called, looking away from the mirror and towards the stairs leading down into the basement.
Her father walked the stairs, wincing a bit as they creaked with the motion. She rolled her eyes as he sniffed the air and dramatically recoiled.
"What died down here?" Danny asked, a warm grin crossing his face as he began to laugh at his own joke.
"Your sense of humor." Taylor replied, laughing a bit herself as she leaned over, turning on a dehumidifier and a fan, setting both to full blast. She spun on a heel, approaching her father with outstretched arms. "C'mon here, Dad."
"Gross! Get away!" He backed away, fending her off with her arms. "Take a shower!"
"Alright, I will!" Taylor laughed, swerving around her father and running up the stairs.
"Dinner in 20! Don't stay too long in the shower!", Danny's voice followed her up the stairs.
Taylor stopped by her room to grab her towel, and paused briefly, staring at a small bookshelf near her bed. Thick volumes of geologic and geographical books lay atop it, all of them well read. A soft, fond smile crossed her face as she padded across her bedroom floor, running a hand down the spine of one of the books, titled 'Atlas of the Underworld'.
It was a fascinating book regarding the many subducted tectonic plates, pieces of the Earth's crust lying submerged in the molten rock of the asthenosphere, and without it and books like it, she doubted her relationship with her father would be anywhere near to how it was now.
A simple conversation about geology had led to so much more. It gave them a common topic to discuss, safe from landmines like Annette Hebert and Emma Barnes, it forced them to connect more, and inevitably, it led to them finally forming a functioning relationship once more.
She gave the book one last look, before finally doing what she'd come to her room for in the first place, grabbing her towel and heading to the shower.
Taylor absentmindedly forked food into her mouth. It was by no means home cooked food, her father was still very busy. Unfortunately, a new, functional relationship with her father still did not stand a chance against the fires of late stage capitalism.
There was more thought put into it that takeout haphazardly grabbed on the way home at least. They'd graduated onto quickly prepared canned, refrigerated, and frozen food.
The thought made her lips curl as she ate what was quickly becoming a staple in their household, rice and beans.
"Hey Taylor."
Taylor paused mid-chew, cheeks bulging as she looked up at her father as he peered over his bowl at her. "Hm?"
Danny rolled his eyes. "Swallow, and then we'll talk."
Taylor did so, and Danny began to speak. "So I've got some time off work this winter break, and we're doing surprisingly well financially right now." He smiled ruthfully, raising a forkful of food. "Turns out that making your food instead of buying take out everyday saves money."
Taylor's eyes widened, wondering if her father was about to suggest what she thought he would.
"So, I've been thinking, how about we go visit those Rocky Mountains? Do some winter hiking?"
Taylor scrambled out of her seat and surged into her father's side, hugging him. "I'd love that!" She paused, briefly. "Are you sure we can afford that, Dad?"
Danny laughed. "Sure we can."
For the rest of the night, Taylor sported a wide smile that refused to leave her face.
For a geologic structure that had so dominated her outlook on life, Taylor had failed to realize just how truly huge the Rockies were, until she laid her eyes on the real thing.
For some, the snow covering everything might've detracted from the look, removing the appeal of the distinctive blue rock. Taylor didn't care. It was a mountain, it was tall, and it was big. It was magnificent.
Father and daughter spent much of the day hiking, ascending the slope. Danny panted heavily, cheap snowpants creaking as he sat down on a boulder, resting.
"I'm getting old, Taylor. Let's take a break here."
Taylor was immediately at her father's side, looking up at him. "Are you sure Dad? We can go down now."
Truthfully, Danny would rather that. He was tired, and did not have the benefit of undergoing a rigorous fitness regime of the like Taylor had been putting herself through. He was remarkably ill suited to climbing a mountain in any weather, let alone snow that was getting knee deep in areas.
But he'd seen the look on his daughter's face, the sheer joy on her face as she'd stared up ahead at the path in front of them. He didn't know as much as he probably should, but he knew his daughter had been struggling. He hadn't been there for her when it had counted. His daughter had to take the first step in repairing their relationship, not him, and that was likely a regret he'd take to the grave.
But he could be there for her now. And he'd be damned if his old bones would drag his daughter down on what was seeming to be one of the happiest days of her life.
Danny laughed his daughter off, waving a hand. "I'm fine. Just needed to catch my breath for a moment."
He concealed a wince the best he could as he got off the boulder, and absent a few glances from his concerned daughter, bless her, they continued hiking.
Eventually, they reached the lookout spot. They sat down, Taylor with considerably more ease, and they stared out at the Colorado landscape. The evergreen trees below were like emerald stars against a white backdrop, stretching as far as they could see. A river ran through it, the surface of it frozen solid, reflecting the cloudy sky above it. Danny sighed, relaxing a bit, feeling his burning legs. For a view like this, it was worth it.
Taylor hugged him. "Thank you, Dad."
Danny smiled. It was definitely worth it.
On the way down, disaster struck.
It was seemingly innocuous at first.
Each footstep they took at a slight echo to it, almost as if there were bellows being compressed each time their boots hit the snow. Snow began to shift around them, slowly. Taylor was unconcerned. As far as she knew, this was normal. She hadn't read anything about snowfall on mountains, she had been busy reading about their geology.
Then loud sounds began to ring out distantly above them. It sounded as though there was a concentrated thunder storm, specifically up the mountain.
There was a terrible rumbling sound.
Taylor turned around, to see a cloud of white racing towards them.
Danny turned around as well, and swore violently. Taylor was sure she would have blushed at some of the words he'd used, had they not been about to be crushed by several tons of snow.
"Avalanche!" Danny cried out.
Taylor was merely staring at the avalanche bearing down at them.
Was this it? Was this how they would go out? Two stupid, unwary hikers crushed under several dozen meters of snow?
Was this her punishment, for comparing herself to a mountain?
Above her, the cloudy sky was replaced by an inky expanse of stars. Twn beings snaked their way through the sky.
Taylor held up her hands in a forgotten, primordial defence instinct. Her mind fractured, then came together, and broke again. Her awareness of herself shifted, broke, and came together. Her being shifted.
She was the rock and the stone. She was the mountain.
Taylor Hebert screamed, thrusting her hands up.
The mountain roared.
Taylor sank to her knees. Somewhere, amidst the sheer exhaustion and adrenaline coursing through her, a thought rang out, clearer than ever.
The mountain hadn't been punishing her at all.
It had been a gift.
This idea came to me at like 2AM while attempting to sleep before my geomatics trade exams. After reading through some of my old university notes on my google drive on a Saturday night because I apparently have nothing better to do with my life, this came to my mind. I admittedly read the worm serial a long time ago, so I have no idea how close I am to canon characterizations. I apologize if the characters are unbearably OOC. I'm not sure if this will be continued, or if it is, how far or long it will go, so please don't expect much from me.
Thank you for your time, and if you can, tell me what you think? This is my first foray into what is frankly an incredibly saturated fandom.