Title: Recover
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, light Romance
Pairing: Light Lance x Anna
Rating: T
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, language, light sexual themes
Lance raised his eyes from his book in surprise at the knock that came to his door. Matt never knocked when he visited, and Natalie never visited without accompanying Matt. Curiously, he set his book aside and stood up to head for the front door, glancing at the clock he passed on his way. Nine in the evening: late for visitors to come knocking, plus it had been raining all day, so it was a miserable day for traveling.
"Better not be hikers looking for lodging," he muttered as he flipped the latch and opened the door. And standing there in the misting light of his front porch, dripping from the rain, and looking horribly uncertain was someone he hadn't seen in years. "...Anna...?"
Green eyes flicked up to briefly meet his before dancing skittishly to the side. "...Can I come in?" she asked in a soft, uncertain voice.
Lance was already standing back. "Of course you can. Just wait there on the mat and I'll bring some towels."
He trotted off down the hall, barely catching the soft thanks she responded with over the sound of the door closing. When he came back with two towels, he found her standing exactly where he'd left her, her shoulders slumped and her eyes tiredly studying his front hall. Her movements were almost mechanical as she accepted the towels and began drying her hair and patting at her clothing. Lance stood awkwardly to one side, unsure of how to talk to her after so long—and they hadn't exactly parted on good terms—plus she looked terribly exhausted in some way. He wondered why she had come here instead of going to one of their other friends, the two who had had more contact with her.
"You, uh, want something to drink? I've got some instant cocoa, I think," he finally offered. Cocoa had always been one of her favorites back before.
Anna's mouth curled in a slight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "If you don't mind."
And so he left her to make herself comfortable in his sitting room while he made the warm drinks. Strange, he thought as he watched steam curl from his worn kettle. She was acting strange—very strange—and she seemed miserable for some reason. Miserable enough to come to his house late in the evening in the middle of a rainstorm after almost four years of not speaking to him? She had neighbors who adored her, friends who supported her, and a husband who loved her, so why come to her least close acquaintance?
He was still puzzling over the quandary when he returned to find Anna had fallen asleep on the sofa using a towel as a blanket and with her damp hair in her mouth. With a faint, amused snort at the sight, he quietly set the two steaming mugs aside and moved to tuck his throw blanket over her shoulders and shift her legs up onto the sofa. He resolved to get his answers in the morning.
Birds chirping and watery sunlight were what woke Anna the following day. Her eyes peeled open to see a strange living room and she blanched at the sight before remembering the night before. Immediately, she sat up, peeling her cheek away from the leather armrest with an audible sticking noise, and she rubbed at her face as her mind raced.
Why in all the gods names had she come to Lance's house? And why in all the gods names had he let her in? He hated her! She was in so much trouble. She'd already yelled at Lana, run out on Michael, and come to Lance. Why had she thought coming here was a good idea?
"Good morning."
Lance's greeting derailed her half panicked thoughts and she flinched before twisting around to see him leaning in the doorway, sipping on a mug of what smelled like coffee. He arched a brow in the face of her shock, and her breath caught at the painfully familiar expression. She silently watched as he walked to sit across from her in a worn recliner. He wore an old, beat up, white shirt and loose, baggy shorts—a much more casual and unkempt look than she'd ever seen from him.
"You sleep alright? Must've been exhausted to fall asleep in damp clothes," Lance asked amicably.
"Sorry," Anna blurted out. She shifted uncomfortably when Lance merely frowned in confusion, and stammered, "For coming here. Dunno what I was thinking. And then I just fell asleep on you. Terrible manners. And-"
"Woah, woah, woah, rein in the mammoth, Anna," Lance laughed easily. He leaned to set his coffee on the low table between them before relaxing back again. "First off, I don't particularly care if you fell asleep right away. Frankly, that's a lot better than what Natz and Matt do when they show up drunk out of their minds."
"Still..." Anna mumbled with her eyes fixed on her clenched fingers in her lap. "I could have at least asked how you were doing, or something..."
"Eh, I don't much like small talk anyway," Lance dismissed with a shrug and a wave of his hand. "So, what brings you all the way out to see me? Everything going okay?"
Anna was baffled at his open acceptance of her presence. Where were the snide jokes and sneers, the accusatory jabs and angry glares? He didn't even mention how long since they'd last spoken, like it didn't matter. Instead he only looked curious and a bit concerned for her. Somehow, that made her feel worse.
"...Everything's fine," she mumbled, still refusing to look up. "I just- I don't know what I'm doing out here..."
"Mmhmm," Lance hummed, unconvinced before abruptly changing the topic. "What would you like for breakfast?"
"You don't need to feed me."
Lance frowned at her. "Alright, quit that. Sulking doesn't suit you, and neither does lying. Pancakes and sausage for breakfast, then we'll see about getting you in a shower."
With that, he stood and strode purposefully for the kitchen, leaving her with no chance to argue or refuse. To his relief, he heard her following him to sit at the small kitchen table, and twenty minutes later they were both digging into a tasty meal. Tense silence reigned throughout the whole meal, but neither person betrayed their discomfort beyond a few shifts or glances. Finally, Lance grew impatient.
"So... How's the hubby?"
Anna tensed slightly at his leap right into a sore topic. "You don't even like him, why do you care how he's doing?" she muttered evasively.
"It's the people closest to you each day that can make you the most miserable," Lance stated sagely, smoothly sidestepping her attempt at a distraction. He nodded at her hand, "You're not wearing your ring, so I assume there's been a fight."
"I just forgot it at home," Anna explained shortly.
"'Forgot' your symbol of a lifelong bond?" Lance asked sarcastically.
"Drop it, Lance."
The acid in her voice brought him up short, and he stared at her. Her flinty gaze was fixed on her empty plate and she looked somewhere between snarling and crying. He drew in a deep breath to let out as a long, silent sigh. This was his first time seeing his old friend in years, so was it really worth upsetting her so much right off the bat?
"Alright, I'm sorry," he mumbled as he slid back from the table. "Shower is in the same place as always. Feel free to freshen up."
He honestly expected for her to leave while he was upstairs taking his time dressing for the day, and checking up on some diagnostics he'd been running. But to his pleasant surprise, she was seated on his sofa again, wearing an oversized shirt and baggy sweats of his that he recognized from the stack of clean laundry he'd left in the guest room. Her hair was wet from the shower, and she looked to be in better spirits. Her eyes darted up to meet his before she flushed and looked away.
"I didn't bring any changes of clothes," she explained quietly.
"Eh, it's not the first time you've borrowed a shirt," he excused easily. "I can run your clothes with the next load, if you'd like."
"I already tossed them in," Anna admitted. She briefly glanced up again before mumbling, "I'm sorry for snapping at you."
Lance feigned shock, looking around himself with great, exaggerated gestures. "Do my ears deceive me? Was that, gasp, a deserved and sincere apology? From Anna? To me? Do we have this on record?"
Anna's lips quirked in a smile of amusement. "Nope, you must be mistaken. I wouldn't apologize to you and mean it."
Though he didn't show it, her returning banter eased a great weight off his back, and he grinned. "Darn. Maybe next time." His smile grew when she laughed, and he decided to take a risky dip back into potentially dangerous territory. "So, how long will you be visiting for? It's been ages since we last spoke, and I'm sure I've got a few interesting tales to tell."
Anna hesitated before shrugging. "I dunno. A few days, maybe? I just... need a break."
"Matt and Natz unavailable?" Lance asked curiously as he gestured for her to follow him to his workshop.
"No- or, rather, I don't know. I haven't seen them in a couple months—not since the summer solstice festival."
Not really an answer to what he really wanted to know, but he supposed he shouldn't have expected her to crack that easily. And as it turned out, Anna was exceptionally stubborn about spilling what her issue was over the next several days. She didn't lose her temper when he lightly prodded, but she also gave him nothing to work with. It was maddening, yet also the most interesting thing he'd had to deal with in a long time. He had to admit that he'd missed trying to noodle through whatever the hell was bothering his friends. It was only a matter of time, anyway, he was sure. Sooner or later, Anna would slip up and he'd get another piece to the puzzle.
Three weeks went by with no progress, but it was an enjoyable period nonetheless; Lance didn't pressure, or even remind, Anna that she had places she should be going or that it had been quite a lot longer than a few days. They quickly fell back into an easy camaraderie, laughing and teasing, and working together on daily chores and tasks. Anna was appropriately interested in what he'd been doing with his time since the team had disbanded, and laughed at his stories of what messes he'd gotten into, or the things he'd had to fix that Matt broke. She was impressed with the wealth he'd managed to rake in from selling a few of his less volatile inventions, and even admitted to wanting some of the gadgets and devices he had around his home, like his washing machine and cold food storage. His offer to install one in her home was turned down, however, with only vague explanations for why it wouldn't work.
Almost a month into her visit, Lance got a pair of visitors: Matt and Natalie stood on his doorstep with worried expressions.
"It's a bit of a long shot, but have you seen Anna?" Natalie asked anxiously. "Apparently, she ran away in a state of upset well over a month ago, and no one has seen her since, or knows where she went. Michael's been really worried for her."
Lance almost revealed that Anna was staying with him, but something held him back. His mind rapidly calculated how long Anna had been at his house, and he mentally frowned as he realized that there were at least two weeks unaccounted for. And, pettily, he still didn't like Michael, and he suspected the man was responsible for Anna's reclusive and depressed behavior.
"Why would Anna come here?" he lied smoothly. "I'm pretty sure her exact words were I hope I never see you again after I refused to go to her wedding, and that was four years ago."
He felt a little guilty for lying to some of his closest friends, but he suspected any progress he'd made with Anna would be undone if others got involved. He watched Matt and Natalie's shoulders slump with worry and offered a half smile.
"She's fine, guys. Someone as stubborn as her won't get killed that easily. Besides, she is a pretty tough warrior."
"But she hasn't been out hunting like she used to," Natalie fretted. "I doubt she could even draw one of her bows anymore, and she isn't good enough with her magic to get away with using just spells."
That... was an interesting tidbit, Lance noted: Anna hadn't been hunting in long enough to lose muscle definition. He filed the thought away in favor of shrugging.
"Then she gets cucked by a dragon, one less idiot in the world," he joked lightly before raising his hands defensively when Natalie glared at him in exasperation for his callous humor. "I'll run one of my old scanners to try and track her mana—I'm pretty sure I have her signature saved somewhere."
Placated, Matt and Natalie stepped inside. As Lance had suspected, Anna hadn't wanted to see them, and had made herself scarce; he hoped she hadn't left entirely. And so he made a small show of turning dials and hitting buttons on a defunct computer in the basement and fed Matt and Natalie a cock and bull story about Anna possibly being east of Goldenbrick, but that the machine was probably slightly inaccurate to get them out of his hair for a few more weeks. He waved them off with a fake-promise to contact them if he saw Anna, and shut the door.
"You lied to them," Anna noted curiously from where she was now sitting on the stairs.
Lance shrugged easily. "It's not the first time. Besides, you must have a pretty good reason to want to be off the grid, and I'm not one to make more problems than necessary. And what they don't know won't hurt them... probably."
Anna studied his face for several moments before relief shone in her eyes. "I appreciate it."
Lance shrugged again, "You're welcome, but now maybe you owe me at least a bit of an explanation."
Anna's expression fell and she bit her lower lip as her eyes darted left and right uncertainly. She let out a shuddering sigh. "You'll think it's ridiculous," she mumbled.
"Doubtful, but possible."
"You'll laugh."
"Also doubtful, but possible."
"It's really stupid."
"And again: doubtful, but possible," Lance replied evenly before gesturing to the sitting room. "Come on, maybe I can help? If nothing else, it might help to get it off your chest."
Anna reluctantly followed him and perched herself on the edge of the sofa, looking like she was going to bolt at any moment. Still, it didn't take as long as Lance had thought for her to spill.
"I'm... having a lot of problems with... with Michael," she started haltingly. When Lance didn't immediately snort or roll his eyes, or do anything beyond nod encouragingly, she relaxed a little. Her finger traced across her knuckles nervously as she went on in a low voice, "He doesn't like a lot of my hobbies—especially hunting and hiking through the woods."
Lance, though he outwardly didn't show it, wasn't surprised in the slightest, and he was beginning to suspect he knew where this conversation was going end up. From day one, Michael had struck him as a machismo jerk who wouldn't like a girl being more talented at fighting than him. He could only hope the situation wasn't already too terrible.
"He'd get upset if I even so much as talked about going hunting, always saying he couldn't stand the thought of me getting hurt. So I... quit going on solo hunts, started joining the village's group hunts. That quelled the fights for awhile, but then he started getting upset about those, too."
"So you quit hunting all together, to keep the peace," Lance guessed in a tone that wasn't the least bit uncertain. "How long ago was that?"
"Less than a year into the marriage," Anna admitted. "I can't even pick up a bow around him without him getting worked up. When I try to argue that I'm a capable fighter and nothing in Greenwood or Ashwood is a threat, he gets upset that I think he's being unreasonable for being concerned for my health."
Check one for Controlling Asshole Syndrome, Lance thought to himself sarcastically. Michael even did the typical guilt her into thinking it was out of concern for her wellbeing. He couldn't even be surprised that it had worked so quickly: Anna had always been an easy target for guilt.
"I'm going to guess the same problems crop up for going on walks alone, too, right?"
Anna winced slightly, but nodded. Her eyes fell to her knees as she admitted, "I have to take him with me, or he gets upset." She didn't mention the one time she'd suggested getting a friend to go with her, and he'd flipped out that she was already cheating on him—that had led to her smacking him for thinking her so shallow, and that... hadn't ended well. Instead, she mumbled, "I hate getting into fights with him. It always feels like I'm the one being ridiculous."
"It's not ridiculous to want to walk through the woods of your home as you've always done since being a child," Lance refuted firmly. "You don't need a babysitter. He's being a little twat for trying to stop you."
Anna shrugged noncommittally. "Then there's how much he refuses to do around the house. Cooking, cleaning, laundry... He won't even take his own damn dishes to the kitchen, just expects me to clean up after him, and if I don't, he complains that the house is messy, that he's worked hard in the workshop all day, and that it would be nice to come home to a clean house. And he does work hard, so it shouldn't be so much to ask for me to tidy up, but I feel like a maid, and then I feel bad for not doing something so simple to help out."
And there's check two, Lance inwardly sighed: wanting to control her actions even when he wasn't around, expecting her to conform to his wishes in everything, and running another layer of guilt when she balked. He wouldn't be surprised if Anna had been being isolated while this was gong on, too—she already lived on the outskirts of her village, so it wouldn't be hard to keep others away. Except, Matt and Natalie still visited her, so why hadn't they stepped in? Natalie certainly wouldn't stand for this kind of domestic mental abuse. He frowned slightly at the inconsistency before turning his attention back to Anna, who was looking increasingly upset. There was something important he needed to know.
"When he gets... upset... what does he do?"
Anna shrugged uncomfortably. "Yells, slams doors and cabinets, stomps; if he's really mad, he might swear at me, or hit a wall, or something. He... likes to get up in my face."
Lance frowned at the way she avoided his eyes. "Does he do anything else?" he pressed. Anna's shrug only solidified his concerns, and he felt a pulse of anger begin to bubble up, but he pushed it back down. Anna didn't need two men in her life yelling at her, even if his yells would be in defensive anger on her behalf, and not to belittle or intimidate her. "Did he have an episode the night you ran away?" he asked instead.
"Yes, but about something else," Anna mumbled. Tears were welling in her eyes and she couldn't lift her gaze for shame. "He... he likes to drink... a lot... He didn't before, but now... And it's because of me..."
"Oh, no," Lance thought. Michael was a lot worse than his instincts had initially feared, and he'd left Anna in the clutches of an abusive, controlling, alcoholic, pathetic excuse for a husband. He'd bet every last gold he owned that Anna had been beaten at least once—probably more than once. He cautiously stood up to move beside Anna and coaxed her into an awkward one armed hug. "It isn't your fault."
"It is!" Anna insisted hysterically. Her mental barriers came down, and she began sobbing uncontrollably, unaware of the way Lance tightened his grip in an effort to ground and console her. "H-He wa-wanted a fami-i-ily, and I couldn't...!"
Lance's eyes flashed, and he shut them in an effort to leash a fresh surge of rage. The anger still showed in his voice as he growled, "Did he rape you?"
Anna recoiled and shook her head violently, tears flying from her cheeks with the motion. "No, of course not! I'm his wife! I just-! I can't! I can't get pregnant!"
Lance's cheeks flushed unwillingly at the blunt statement, and he briefly wondered at his sudden role of marriage counselor-therapist, but he shook his head to chase the thoughts off and rubbed his hand up and down her shoulder. He used his other hand to bring her face up to meet his eyes. "First off, whether or not you're infertile is not your fault, and no one should blame you for it—least of all the man who supposedly vowed to love and cherish you," he started firmly and seriously. "Second off, just because you're his wife doesn't mean you have to have sex with him, whether he wants it or not. If he's been forcing, or coercing, or guilting you, and I'll bet my entire weapon collection that he has been, then that is still rape, and he is dead wrong for doing it to you."
Anna's eyes widened at his words, and she found herself entranced at the depth of sincerity, concern, and livid anger sparking in Lance's eyes. Not once had she ever considered any sex she'd had with Michael to be rape, even when it had hurt or been unpleasant. And no one had ever told her it wasn't her own fault that she was infertile, which was an unbelievable, yet liberating thing to hear. And Lance wasn't done.
"And finally, he has no right to keep you from the people you love and the things you enjoy. If you want to go track down a bear and kill it, then you should do so. If you want to take a walk in Ashwood in the middle of the night, then go for it. And if you want to leave dirty dishes sitting on the table, or counter, or whatever, and he has a problem with that when he walks in? Well, he has two hands and half a brain—he can figure out how to clean up his own damn mess," Lance declared. His eyes searched hers for a moment before he let go of her face and smiled, "And you are strong enough to tell him that yourself. You are no wimp, coward, or weakling, Anna. You're a fierce warrior capable of standing her own against any monster or god, and coming out better for it. And if you can face down a god, then what's one drunken pissant who thinks he owns you?"
Anna felt her lips curl upwards in an unbidden and flattered smile. Lance returned her smile with a tense one of his own and carefully brushed a few tears from her cheeks.
"But just because you're strong enough to do that on your own doesn't mean you should have to," he finished quietly. "I'll come with you to break it off with him."
Anna's eyes widened at his words, and her mouth parted slightly. Break it off? Divorce Michael? She'd never even considered it an option. Everyone would talk about it after so long of her being married to the man. How could she explain this to anybody else so that they understood the severity of the situation? Lance had gotten more details than anyone else, sure, but even he hadn't heard everything—he was just smart and cynical enough to make the right connections on his own. Would even Matt and Natalie believe her? They hadn't seemed to think anything was wrong all this time, and they had actually seen her in the environment. Lance had only gotten her side of the story, and she was sure she'd done and said things that had exasperated the issues, so maybe she'd just blown everything out of proportion?
"I can't," she mumbled.
Lance stilled and his smile dropped into a frown. "Can't... what? Dump the bastard? Of course you can, and you should."
"What if I'm just misreading everything? I'm mean, surely somebody else would have stepped in by now if things were really that bad?"
"Don't count on that," Lance refuted darkly. "Society has most people trained to look away from problems in the private home. They may know it's happening and that it's wrong, and they probably even gossip about it, but they won't necessarily do anything about the problem. Besides, I knew from day one that that man is a problem—I just wish I had known how much of one he would become."
"But what about Matt and Natalie? They wouldn't have... have let him..."
"Abuse you?" Lance supplied quietly before he shook his head. "No, they wouldn't have... if they had known. I suspect they think you've been acting strange, but have written it off as you settling down into a family life. I mean, it took me, a suspicious bastard, nearly a month of contact with you, and without Michael, to get the story. And as much as I love those two, they aren't the most forward or critical thinkers in history. Besides, I doubt they've been around you as much as they used to, and even when they were around, I doubt Michael was on anything but his best behavior."
Anna relaxed slightly at the explanation, and at the way it settled a long, deep seated fear that maybe her friends just hadn't cared. That fear had been what had brought her to Lance's doorstep that rainy night rather than her other friends' door. She'd been frazzled enough to not think about the consequences of approaching her estranged friend, and he had been caring and mature enough to not be holding a grudge or her words against her. And now here he was, comforting, consoling, and advising her, just as he'd always used to, like he'd never left her back. She wondered why the hell she'd ever given this camaraderie up for some stupid dream to marry and have a family.
"You're right, I should tell him we're done," she decided firmly through a sniffle. She peeked up at Lance's eyes before asking timidly, "And you'll be there, too, right?"
"Of course," Lance vowed. "I don't trust him alone with you anymore, anyway. When do you want to go?"
Anna glanced at the clock and shook her head. "Not tonight. He's probably blitzed out right now, anyway." Her words were bitter and resigned, but her gaze was clear when she looked back around at Lance. "Besides, I think I've done enough time in the emotional wringer today. I just want a nice, long shower and a comfy bed."
"Your wish is my command," Lance promised jokingly as he stood up and held out his hand.
Anna stared at the offered hand and the silent vow of support it represented. She grinned and firmly clasped her own around his to be pulled to her feet, and held it for a moment longer before throwing her arms around him. "Thank you so much for everything," she whispered against his chest. Her lips twitched as he stiffened at the sudden affection, then relaxed, then began reaching jokingly for her butt. "And I'll also thank you to keep your hands to yourself, jerk."
Lance immediately pulled away with a laugh and sparkling eyes. "Yeah, yeah, go take your shower, you prude," he teased as she turned away.
And that night resulted in some of the best sleep Anna had had in years. Rather than feeling torn up about her decision, she felt relief. Some buried part of her had recognized that this rotten marriage had nothing left in it to cling to—it was why she'd abandoned her ring—and that part of her was ecstatic at her rapidly approaching freedom. She woke the following morning feeling filled with restless, eager energy and a bright feeling she eventually recognized as hope. Lance was waiting for her by the door, dressed in his old Camo Jacket and pants with his gunblade slung at his hip and a rifle across his back. He tossed her a paper bag containing her breakfast, having foreseen that she would want to set out immediately.
Greenwood, when they reached it that afternoon, came awake in a buzz of excitement at her return—doubly so at who had brought her home. Anna smiled to a few people, and waved her hand when they called to ask if she was alright. Lance nodded to the few surprised greetings thrown his way, but stayed on Anna's heels as she led the way to her home.
The treehouse had been expanded, he noted when they hesitated outside the door. A proper house had been built around the base to add more rooms for storage, sleeping, and relaxing, rather than the single divided up room Anna had used as a hunter's lodge that the home had been before. The garden had been expanded a little, but the plants were in poor shape with weeds encroaching for Anna having been gone for a month. The racks that had been set up to prepare pelts were long gone—an unsurprising result of her no longer hunting.
Anna stared up at her house for a long time until she felt Lance's hand land on her shoulder to give her a reassuring squeeze. Her own hand crept up to cover his in thanks before she stepped forwards and opened the barrier.
Inside, seated in the small living room, were Matt, Natalie, and Michael. All three looked up and around in shock at Anna standing there, though their eyes narrowed on the man behind her—for different reasons. Matt and Natalie couldn't believe the gall of Lance to show up with Anna, proving that he'd lied to their faces about where she'd been a day after the lie, though they were mainly relieved their friend was alright and in mostly good company. Michael was furious at the sight of his wife bringing a different man into his home.
"Where have you been?" Natalie scolded as she leapt up to give Anna a tight hug, followed closely by Matt. "We've been worried sick since we heard!"
"Around, mostly at Lance's," Anna replied somewhat vaguely.
Her eyes darted over her friends' shoulders to her husband's eyes as she said that, and she saw the dark flash of rage there that she had always tried to deny. With a deep breath, she pulled away from Matt's hug to stand before Michael. The man had a mask of concerned delight on his face, but his eyes were cold, promising a shouting match and likely a beating later; both of which he'd never have with her again. She stepped away from his possessive hug. Yet even as she pulled the words up in her mind that she wanted and needed to say, some beaten and cowed part of her rose up to demand she duck her head and apologize. It took Lance stepping forwards to rest a hand on her shoulder for her to straighten up, square her shoulders, and glare at the monster wearing a man's skin.
"I revoke my marriage vows. I refuse to play this charade as your wife any longer, and I refuse to let you control me anymore," Anna announced coldly.
She heard Matt and Natalie mutter in shock, but she ignored them in favor of watching Michael's eyes widen in shock and a fake hurt before they narrowed in rage. The next instants were a sudden explosion of motion and noise as Lance suddenly lunged past her to tackle the man to the floor, swiftly getting him in a hold and wrestling a wood knife from his hand. Anna had shrunk back in a mixture of shock and an instinctive fear, and she felt a pair of reassuring hands steady her.
Lance's expression was one of icy wrath as he easily, and with no small amount of delight, dislocated both of Michael's shoulders, earning him a screech of agony from the man. He stood up and back and delivered a swift kick to the man's ribs, and heard a satisfying crunch followed by Natalie snapping to know what the hell was going on and Matt hauling him back to restrain him from doing more. Lance shook off the swordsman and crossed his arms to hide the rage that had them trembling. The man had dared to try and strike Anna down after years of trying to mold her to be his broken little doll of a wife.
"If you think for one instant that you'll ever be safe from me, think again," he spat at the man whimpering on the ground, his eyes practically glowing. "You will never find shelter, you will never find aid, and you will never know safety again for what you did to her. You hear me? Never. Watch your back and keep one eye open, monster."
Matt and Natalie both recoiled at the hatred coiling along Lance's words. He was wound tight like a spring ready to launch, and they suspected the only thing preventing a bloodbath right here and now was that they were standing there and would stop him. Anna stood off to one side, obviously upset, but not about to intervene—if anything, she looked relieved.
"Alright, what the hell?" Natalie finally snapped for a second time. "Lance, you told us yesterday that you hadn't seen Anna in four years, yet you showed up with her today, assaulted and threatened her husband-"
"Don't call that bastard my husband," Anna cut in quietly.
"Ex-husband, then," Natalie corrected, impatiently. "And that leads me to my next question? What the hell is making you divorce him? You've been married for years now! He's been worrying about you nonstop since you ran away!"
"Oh, I'll bet he was worried," Lance muttered with dark sarcasm. "Probably had his head stuffed in the third keg."
"He has been drinking a lot, yeah," Matt agreed slowly, studying Lance suspiciously.
Lance snorted in disgust. "Of course he's been drinking a lot."
"He's an alcoholic, abusive, controlling, bastard of a human being that I'm ashamed I ever saw any good in," Anna stated in a flat, emotionless voice. Her voice fell further as she murmured, "And I wish I had had the courage and good sense to get him out of my life before he dragged my self-worth and dignity through the mud."
Michael remained mostly silent throughout their exchange, though whether it was out of fear, self-preservation, or pain, none of them were sure. Matt cast his own cold glare at the other man before gesturing for them to all step outside.
"You should have told us," he scolded Anna once they were out of earshot of the man.
Lance stepped forwards defensively. "Don't blame her for falling for the same damn tricks all victims of abuse fall for. He preyed on her guilt and good nature so that he could take and take without ever giving anything but abuse in return."
Anna pressed a hand to his chest to calm him, though not without a grateful smile for his standing up for her. "I wanted to tell you, but I had convinced myself that there wasn't anything serious wrong. I'm sorry for not trusting myself and you two more."
"Speaking of not trusting," Natalie muttered with a sour look at Lance, who looked entirely unapologetic.
"Oops, guess I lied to you again. Sorry about that," he said airily with a smirk and not sounding the least bit sorry.
Matt rolled his eyes with a snort, but let it go, knowing that Lance had had Anna's best interests in mind. He turned his eyes to Anna, who was smiling at Lance. "What do you want to do with the bastard crying on the floor in your house?"
"Kill him?"
"No murder, Lance," Anna refused with a grin. She turned to study her house for a long, silent moment before shrugging. "Leave him there. He can have the damn place."
"Then I guess we should pack up your things," Natalie decided briskly. "Would you like to borrow a room at our place until you work out something more permanent?"
"Actually, I'd like..." Anna started hesitantly before trailing off with a glance at where Lance was glaring sullenly at the wall of her house, clearly thinking Michael had gotten off too easy. Her face fell slightly before her gaze dropped. "Never mind. Staying at your place would be great, thank you."
"That sick of me already?" Lance asked in a faux-hurt voice as he finally broke off his glaring match with the wall. He smirked at Anna's surprised look and added, "Too bad, I'm kidnapping you for a little longer. You still owe me a fixed yard, remember?"
Anna's entire face brightened at the offer and reinforcement that he still considered her his friend, mistakes, and flaws, and all.
"Glad you two have finally gotten over pissing at each other," Matt teased lightheartedly before gesturing to the house. "C'mon, let's get your stuff, Anna."
"You guys do that, I have to go talk to Lana," Lance announced. He shrugged when Anna shot him a look, and pointed out, "I'm going to kill him if I see him again, so if you have a problem with that, then I shouldn't see him."
Anna's smile was a little exasperated as she waved him off, and she watched him trudge back towards Greenwood proper and vanish into the trees. Natalie and Matt waited behind her with smiles of their own, but for a different reason.
"So... You and Lance? Natalie fished once Anna finally turned around. To her surprise, Anna snorted and shook her head. "Really? You seem pretty close to him, and he's definitely on the high defensive over you."
"We're not involved," Anna insisted firmly. Her smile was wistful as she glanced after Lance again. "I needed a stable friend and a good ear, and he was nice enough to be that for me when I showed up at his place a month ago." She shook her head before stepping for her door, "Besides, I was still married, and I don't think Lance is into sleeping with married women."
"But what about now?" Matt asked glancing at where Michael still lay sprawled on the floor, though now apparently unconscious, making sure the man wasn't about to be a problem. "I mean, you're not married now, Lance certainly seems to like you again, and you'll be living with him for awhile."
"Guys, as cute as it is that you're trying to hook us up, I don't want to date anyone right now, and I'm pretty sure Lance knows that. I especially don't want to screw up our friendship again by launching into a rebound relationship with him." Anna glanced around with a small smile when they mumbled apologies for pushing her. "Maybe someday—he certainly is a much more mature sweetheart now than when we were nineteen—but not right now."
Natalie nodded with a smile before clearing her throat and clapping her hands. "Alright, let's get this done. Anna, you go clear out your bedroom, Matt and I will track down wherever your weapons and armors ended up in storage."
"Grab my old bedquilts and the throw blanket while you're down there," Anna called over her shoulder. "I hand-sewed those, and I'd like to keep them."
Once alone in the bedroom, Anna let her expression fall, and sank to sit on the bed as she let out a shuddering sigh. Adrenalin drained out of her leaving her almost shaky as everything suddenly hit her hard: she had stood up to her abuser, gotten out from under his thumb, and was heading to a new chapter in her life back with her friends. Lance would support her, she was fairly sure, and Matt and Natalie would probably be checking in compulsively to be sure she was fine. Eventually, she'd have to figure out about where she would live now since Greenwood was right out for as long as Michael stayed here. Even getting a new house on the far side of the village would be too close to him for comfort, and he had as much right to be here as she did, as a natural citizen.
"A problem for the future," she decided quietly as she raised her head to look around the room.
It was comfortably furnished, decorated in soft browns and greens, but she didn't much like it. Here was where some of her worst breaking had happened, and she didn't particularly want to keep any part of it in her life. And so, all she eventually ended up packing were her clothes, a couple of towels, and her personal hygiene items.
It was as she was emptying a drawer of hair ties and clips that her eyes fell on a photograph of her and Michael, and she reached out to pick it up to study. It had been taken a week or so before he'd proposed to her, and she looked blissfully happy with his arm around her waist. Her eyes practically glittered as she looked up with a soft blush at the man holding her, and he'd looked equally content. How had things gone so sour from that point in time to where they were now? She doubted she had just somehow missed that he wasn't actually a good man the whole two years that they'd been dating, and she was certain he hadn't displayed any of the controlling tendencies he'd developed. He'd been a stable man from her home town, with many of the same interests and skills as herself, and a respected member of the community. Yet something had to have been wrong, because Lance had picked up on it immediately, and had just as immediately disliked him. The gunner had always been more in-tune to people's intentions than anyone else on their team. Had there been something in the way he'd spoken or moved that had tipped Lance off? Why hadn't she trusted his instincts?
Anna set the photo face down on the dresser with a troubled frown and turned away. It was over and done with, she tried to convince herself as she headed back to the main room to wait for Matt and Natalie to quit thumping around in the basement. Michael was awake and staring at her when she returned, and she froze as she met his accusing eyes.
"Why?" he rasped tightly. "You were supposed to love me..."
"I did love you, and you were supposed to love me," Anna replied quietly. "And maybe you did, once, but you don't anymore, just like I don't love you anymore."
"I took care of you!" Michael hissed.
"Not in the ways you should have," Anna refuted. "Taking care of someone doesn't mean locking them up and keeping them from the things they love. And love isn't blaming them for every little thing that went wrong, and it certainly isn't coming home drunk to berate, belittle, hit, and... rape... them. I think all you love about me now is the idea that you owned me. And I... I don't feel anything positive for you now. I'm sorry we didn't work out like we'd hoped and thought we would, but I'm not sorry for leaving."
"Don't lie to me, you've been sleeping with that maniac for years now, you whore!"
Anna watched the man practically spitting in his hatred and rage, and shook her head at the pathetic shell he had become. "Lance is a good friend, but I've never once loved him or slept with him. And the fact that you can so easily call me a whore just further proves that you don't really love me."
Her calm words and serene expression seemed to drive the man further into rage; enough of one to forget the agony of his dislocated arms as he sat up to scream abuses at her. Anna tuned him out, letting the words he'd shouted so many times before wash over and around her, but no longer taking them in. Rapid footsteps thudded up the stairs and both Matt and Natalie appeared in the room to gape at the sight of a maddened Michael screaming at a stone-faced Anna. And then the woman turned, in the middle of his tirade, and murmured a goodbye before leaving the house for the last time.
Lana and Lance were waiting at the edge of her clearing, and both their gazes narrowed at the sudden onslaught of noise and curses that cut off when Anna calmly shut the door. Lance crossed the clearing in three strides to touch Anna's shoulder with a concerned expression, only to relax when she gave him a weary, but reassuring smile and shook her head to say she was fine. Still, he wrapped a comforting arm around her slumped shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
"Told him off?" he guessed quietly.
"Yeah. I... needed to get that off my chest, and I'm glad I did it now so I never have to see him again," Anna said just as softly before turning her eyes to Lana and dipping her head slightly. "Hi, Lana. Sorry about my- about Michael. He's not taking the loss so well."
"There is no need to explain, Lance has already informed me of what has happened and been happening," Lana replied grimly and she stepped forwards to pull Anna into a warm, comforting embrace. Her voice fell so that only Anna would hear. "I am proud of you for finding help and for getting out, and I am sorry that my ailing health has prevented me from seeing you were suffering and needed guidance."
Anna shook her head and stood back. "I don't blame you or anyone else for what that... that man has done. I'm going to live with Lance for awhile, but I promise I'll come visit soon."
Lana nodded with a gleam in her eyes as she cast a look at where Lance was patiently waiting a few feet away. "So I have been told. Greenwood will take care of Michael, do not worry. Focus on finding yourself and getting back to where you want to be."
"I will. See you soon."
Lana gave a slow, stiff bow, her bones and joints protesting the movement before she turned to the door and slipped inside. A few moments later saw Matt and Natalie emerging, both holding two boxes of belongings, each, and the reunited team set off for Lance's home.
OOOOOO
"You've got the wiring backwards," Lance explained as he scribbled a few arrows on a diagram beside the simple contraption. "If the flow of electricity is going backwards, then the blades are going to run backwards. Not really helpful for a stand fan."
Anna frowned at the drawing, and then at the box filled with wires, gears, and a battery. "Couldn't I just turn the battery around?"
"Sure, for something this simple, but you should do it the right way now to start setting a habit for the future."
Anna gave an exaggerated sigh and turned the soldering gun back on before she began unhooking wires. It had been almost six months since she'd moved in with Lance, and it had been a very productive time for her. Lance had been more than willing to help her get back into fighting form and follow her on hunts in the mountains, and he'd been just pushy enough to keep her from slipping into depressive habits, but not so pushy as to be a nuisance or a bad reminder. And now, with the passes filled with the heavy snow of winter and storms happening every other day, he'd taken to teaching her about wiring and electronics, to keep her entertained and engaged. She had to admit that it was kind of fun to learn new skills, and she liked the extended time he spent tutoring her; he seemed genuinely excited and pleased with her interest, too.
"Matt and Natalie are coming by tonight," Lance told her conversationally from where he was hunched over a computer across the room, tapping out some code.
"Yeah, you said yesterday. Crummy weather to be hiking in, but it'll be nice to see them again," Anna replied distractedly. She stuck the tip of her tongue through her teeth in concentration as she began melting some solder to secure a couple wires together before setting the gun aside to consult her diagram again. "So I've grounded the battery, redone the wires, and hooked up the spoke thingy that connects the fan to the gears."
"Rotor shaft, not spoke thingy," Lance snorted without looking up. "Now you've got to tighten the screws so the fan blades don't come loose and fly off when they start spinning. Don't tighten them too far, or you'll strip the screws and their beds."
A few minutes passed before Anna announced, "All tightened. Now I wire the battery to the switch, right?"
"Mmhmm... And why are we waiting to hook the switch up last?"
"So I don't accidentally turn it on and get my hair caught in it, or something?" Anna guessed with a considering frown. She had already pulled her hair back to keep it out of the way as she worked.
"Or something," Lance agreed with a faint smile. "With a device this small and simple, nothing really bad could happen, but if you were making an explosive or something running with high voltage, you wouldn't want to accidentally turn it on mid-process. I'll teach you more about stopgaps and safeguards on a more complicated project, later."
Anna nodded eagerly, already looking forward to learning more, and once she'd finished wiring and Lance had checked everything, she flipped the switch. The device hummed to life, and the fan began spinning, gaining speed until a pleasant breeze began blowing. Lance clapped a hand to her shoulder as she beamed a proud smile at her work.
"Baby's first doom device," she joked as she leaned back in her chair and tilted her head back to grin up at Lance.
"A fan is hardly a doom device," Lance chuckled with a shake of his head. "Go set it in your room, and then let's get started on that roast. I'm sure Matt and Natalie will be starving when they get here."
"I'll make a fresh loaf to go with it," Anna suggested as she stood up and stretched her arms over her head.
"Do the thing with the apples—that's really good."
Anna grinned at the eagerness in his voice and promised to add apple chunks to the dough as she headed off to her room. By the time she'd set her fan on the low table beside her reading chair and had washed up, Lance had already set the ham roast in the oven to slow cook, and was now washing the vegetables for a salad. Anna took up a place at the counter not far away and began sifting flour, salt, and other dry ingredients into a bowl before adding water and yeast, and finally kneading and working the dough. The last step involved folding some sliced pieces of apple into the dough before dusting the top with sugar and sliding the dough onto a floured stone platter and into the second oven.
Lance had long since finished his tasks for the food, including throwing together the salad, making up a dressing, and mashing some potatoes. Now he was leaning against the doorframe, watching Anna and sipping at a glass of water. Six months of recuperation had done wonders for the ranger, and she was more or less back to where she had been before, which was why Matt and Natalie were coming to visit. The evening was a celebration—an anniversary of sorts—of six months of no Michael, and six months of healthy progress.
It hadn't been an easy recovery for Anna by far. Between lingering guilt of somehow being responsible for how everything had fallen out, nightmares of her ex coming to get her, and slumps of feeling worthless, she had been stretched in every negative direction. Luckily for her, Lance had been a constant, steady, somewhat sarcastic support, and Matt and Natalie had cheered her on each step of the way. And the isolation of Lance's home had given her the distance from gossip and people that she'd needed to not feel judged as she worked her skills back up.
"I was thinking, if I'm going to keep living here, I should probably pay rent," Anna suddenly told Lance as she washed her hands.
Lance blinked back to the present and he cocked his head. "Sure, if you want, but I don't really need the money. Besides, you've been doing enough around the house to have more than earned your keep. The yard alone is going to be more than enough, come spring."
Anna turned around to meet his eyes, drying her hands on a dish towel. "You really don't mind having me here," she noted in a wondering tone.
"Uh, duh. You're not nearly as noisy or destructive as Matt, and Natalie would castrate me within a week for even half of the comments I throw around," Lance snorted with a smirk. He stood off the wall and shook his head as his smirk softened into a real smile. "Nah, you're kinda the ideal roommate. You clean up after yourself, you do some cooking and chores, and you're a good conversationalist. It's been nice having you here, and I'd missed you during those four years."
"You've been doing a lot for me, too, though," Anna pointed out softly with a shy smile. "You took me in without question when I first showed up, got me out of an abusive relationship, and helped me out of the rut he'd stuck me in. And I can never thank you enough."
"Don't fall for another abusive asshole, and we'll call it even," Lance dismissed easily as he turned away to hide a light blush.
Anna's smile widened as she trailed after him. "That shouldn't be a problem."
A/N: Just something I banged out at 3am when I was supposed to be sleeping. It's a lot more domestic than I usually do, I think, but I really like it. It's pretty much finished as is, but I may add another chapter, so to speak, with a more firmly romantic touch to it. Luckily for me, it didn't remove all my italics this time. No idea why not, but I am not complaining! Anyway, usual stuff applies: point out dingdong typos, and leave me a review!
Responses to guest reviewers:
Anonymous: Maple is best bit character. :3
As for the beta, I played it religiously for a week when it first came out as private. Now, I'm trying to resist going back and playing the updates until the game comes out for real. It shouldn't be much longer, but I want it now... I already have so many ideas for novelizing it. ;D
Little Follower: I went back to look at Anna's introduction, and you're right. I'll have to go back and change that, make it much less obvious as to who's following Erick—maybe add in some more anxiety in his thoughts. As for the currently missing review, I assume part of it was about some of the egregious typos I saw last time I read through it. I fixed a couple, but I know there's one case of fused words that I couldn't find in the editing document. I'll go back and get any others you pointed out whenever the review comes through.
Jason: You, uh, get the medal for most reviews on a single chapter. (^_^;) It may be worthwhile to you to make an account if you want to have an extended discussion about EBF5's beta, though I'm glad you've played through it and it's won you over. I'm, personally, excited about the changes and additions to the characters, and can't wait to write for them! I likely won't be leaving the EBF fandom for quite some time, yet!
i will not be making Anna part elemental as that would ruin my current plot (and honestly would fall under bestialty in the EBF universe), nor will I be changing my lore for Greenwood in Gaea. Part of the reason Greenwood's documents on lineages are so thorough and complete is to avoid inbreeding issues—Lance is just being Lance when he says 'disgustingly inbred', not stating a true fact. They are all rather closely related to each other, as one would expect from an isolated community, but they aren't boning siblings/cousins/parents/aunts as you seem to be concerned about. Nah, if you want to be grossed out by inbred families, go look at the British royal family tree: the thing is practically a net *shivers*. Natalie is not a hybrid, per say, but I haven't decided quite what's up with her just yet (leaning towards something like mutations as of right now). Lance is just human, and NoLegs is just a cat, though I don't think he's in the story at all.
Guestatron 2000: If Jason wins the most reviews medal, then you win the best guest name medal and best opening sentence medal! XD
I'm really glad to hear another person likes my writing so much! It makes me feel a little less self-conscious about sinking so much time, effort, and so many words into such a niche fandom. :P The world and character building has been my favorite parts of sitting so far, followed closely by banter, so I'm especially glad that those are some of e things you've liked the most! And thank you for your supportive words! I wish I could properly express how much it means to me to hear/read them!
Miles or Arrow: I'm very proud of Gaea—it's one of my very favorites so far. :3 I'll keep chugging away at the mess called emotions, and will hopefully call myself out of the tangle of them to come out better for it!