He was wet.
He was cold.
He burned all over.
But, it could be worse.
When couldn't it?
He takes a deep breath as he looks up to the top of the well.
He could do this.
Would do this.
He'd gotten in and out of this one several times looking for herbs to match the pictures in Faustina's book.
He shakes his head. Totally not the point right now.
The point was he needed to hurry the hell home before service ended.
If he played his cards right, he could set up an 'accidental fire' to explain the burns.
It wouldn't be that much of a stretch.
Father thought both of them were simple.
It wasn't his choice that they only had candles as a source of light.
Their father was convinced electricity was the Devil's work.
So it wasn't like a fire would look that suspicious.
Getting home though?
Now that was going to be a problem.
His clothes had been burned and pretty much left in tatters. He'd spent a good amount of his time down here sorting it, but he knew they weren't to his usual standard.
He runs his fingers through his hair and groans.
The last thing he needed right now was somebody to spot him in this state, drawing unwanted attention and questions.
He couldn't help being bitter that Deez's flames hadn't just ended him.
With a set jaw and determination, he grabs the rope and makes his way upwards, his movements slow and deliberate.
He had no intention of having to do this more than once.
It takes forever to pull himself out, but honestly, he's just happy to finally be out of the damn well.
His entire body burned and ached, but the moving air felt great against the less severe burns.
He stumbles a couple of feet from the well before he falls to his ass, dizzy from the blood rush.
He breathes heavily as he lays against the cool dirt, exhausted. If someone fucking stumbled along and finished him, so be it.
He stares blankly up at the dark, miserable clouds above him, and stays there until laughter abruptly spills out of him.
Dark and hollow, his thoughts strayed to their father finding out about this particular act of rebellion.
Years.
He'd been able to hide it for years.
Their father didn't care how they occupied their time when he wasn't present, as long as they were there when they were needed.
The man was positive that the room was adequately fortified, locks on everything that could be used as an exit to the outside world.
What the old man didn't know was that they'd learned to pick locks long before they even knew it was a way to escape.
It had been a game.
Something to distract them from the endless loneliness.
Solitude.
Boredom.
They were always challenging each other like that.
Seeing which of them could figure out how to do something the quickest.
He'd never forget her expression when she had been the first to figure it out.
A mixture between fear and pride.
Shock that she managed it before him.
Terror that their father would find out.
And concern.
Always concern.
What punishment would await them once god revealed their sins?
Only-
The man hadn't figured out that he got out.
That he scoured the Isle for stories to entertain her.
His sister.
His twin.
His sole reason for living.
A dark smirk tugs at his lips.
One day he'd be able to lure her from her tower.
But if he ever wanted the chance-
He sucks in his breath and forces himself to sit up before he pushes to his feet and looks around for Jay's shirt.
A sigh of relief rushing from his lips when he finds them.
A low hiss of pain quickly follows.
His entire body shudders as the rough cloth brushes against fresh blisters, but it's worth it for the peace of mind.
He sighs, steadying himself against the well before he begins stumbling towards the town.
He's careful to stay in the shadows as he makes his way back. The walk was long, and undeniably painful-
But he'd felt pain.
Was used to it.
Lived in it.
He'd just never been this exhausted before.
He has no idea how he manages to make it back to the church without incident, but for once he wasn't willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Just need a fire." He tells himself as he slips through the window and out of the view of the streets.
One step at a time.
He frowns as he secures the window behind him.
Praying tonight wouldn't be a night he visited.
At least not before Faustina could patch him up.
What the fuck?
Jay was still rooted to the spot.
What had he just-
No.
No fucking way.
When he'd chosen to hide, to wait for T to show.
How was he not suppose to worry about this?
Worry about the damage of getting hit by Deez flames?
If he was suppose to walk away-
He wanted to know why.
But this?
T pulling himself over the edge of the well, even to faceplant on the ground beside it, at least helped slow his pounding heart.
He'd feared the worst.
Missing arm-
Seared fingers-
Disfigured face-
But then the silhouette had been wrong.
Clearly the clothes had taken the brunt of the flames.
Because T was several sizes smaller than he'd ever seen him.
Layers.
The kid wore layers for fucking days.
But if he'd wanted to know why T didn't want help-
He'd gotten his answer.
An answer that explained what his thumb brushed against the first time they'd met.
T, the big bad T, protector of the Isle if you believed what Deez wrote-
Stalker if you asked him.
-was a girl.
A girl dressed up like a dude while he stalked the streets and 'watched people'.
A girl that never corrected anyone when they called him a bro or a guy.
A girl that kept her chest bound tightly.
Weird.
Even Mal, as un-girly as she tried to pretend she was, would have knocked anyone on their ass if they called her a boy.
While this answered a few questions, it brought up way too many more.
The thought just didn't sit well with him.
He just had a hard time picturing the kid he smacked to the ground over and over again without so much as a complaint being a chick.
It was-
Overwhelming didn't even begin to cover it.
This was so not his thing. It was more Mal's.
As soon as the thought crosses his mind though, he shakes it off.
No, T had to have a reason for not telling anyone who she was.
As strange as this feeling was, it felt wrong to say anything.
He-
Fuck.
He like, owed it to her to keep her secret.
He sighs.
One day he'd talk to T about this, but probably not for a long while.
Hopefully, he'd be able to answer the question of who T's parents were first.
Maybe that would help answer the question of why she-
He shakes his head.
He couldn't think of T as a girl if he was going to keep this secret from the gang.
He, why he masqueraded as a boy.
He could have easily caught up and trailed T back to his home.
He couldn't be moving that fast.
Not after that.
But that felt wrong too.
So, not tonight.
He wasn't sure he could handle another surprise. He needed time to get his game face on for this.
