A/N: Welcome back to the island and thank you, always always always, for reading and sharing your thoughts with me. You guys are the best, and I look forward to your awesome comments and keep them in mind when I'm plotting and writing. Soooooo on that note, I am grounding myself from other stories until I get the next chapter of The Climbing Way out. That, and I'm being semi-consensually separated from my laptop for like ... 36 hours. Not cool. So to make up for it, here's a nice long meaty chapter to keep you island-satisfied until the next time.


.-.-.

Some Bright Morning
9. grace our spirits will deliver

.-.-.


"I can't believe she already has the results." Derek shakes his head, and she can tell he's thinking the same thing she is: hasn't she had enough bad news?

"She had the test run at Emory as soon as her mother's prognosis was clear," Addison fills him in. "Eat this," she adds, handing him the food she saved for him from lunch.

"No, thanks," he brushes it away.

"You have to eat something. Dinner's not for-"

"Addison, I'm not hungry."

"Fine." She puts the plate back in the little refrigerator. "Then get dressed so we can go. Savvy's waiting for us at the hearth."

Savvy and Weiss are the only ones at the hearth when they get there, standing close together by the firepit facing out at the water and the little wooden dock.

"Sav?" Addison announces their presence quietly as they approach, and Savvy turns around.

"Hi," she says softly, tears in her eyes.

Weiss is rubbing her arm gently, looking helpless. "It's okay, Sav."

"But what if it's not? Addie." Savvy turns pleading blue eyes to her. "Tell him. Don't I need to do something about this? As soon as possible? Instead of being a ... sitting duck?"

"Um…" Addison looks helplessly between Savvy and Weiss, and then to Derek, whose expression reflects neutral concern. "I understand you tested positive overall, but the results need to be interpreted, Sav, and that's why they should really come from a geneticist, in person, so you can-"

"Well, they didn't," Savvy says abruptly. "I pulled some strings. I didn't want to wait." She gives her old friend a shaky smile and Addison is reminded that despite Savvy's sweetly pretty exterior, she's a notoriously fierce advocate, both for her clients and now … for herself.

"There's just a lot going on for you right now, Sav," Addison says gently. "You don't have the results on paper – I haven't had a chance to take a look at them, I don't even know which mutation it –"

"I know it's positive, Addie. Is there a good positive result?"

Addison presses her lips together for a moment. "Sav. You can't take any ... prophylactic steps right now anyway, not on the island. And even then, there are options to discuss."

"You're a doctor. Is that your medical opinion? Addison … " Savvy's voice sounds pleading. "I took the test two weeks ago. I've been waiting and looking into it and I know what my options are. I know increased screenings do nothing for ovarian cancer detection. I knew all along a positive result would mean surgery."

"Savvy," Weiss cuts in. "This is major. We-"

"You don't think I know it's major?"

"I'm just saying, we should talk to someone before we make any decisions."

"I'm talking to Addie right now. And it's my decision."

"Savvy…"

"Addie, please."

"I, uh … I can help you when we get back to Manhattan," she says weakly. "I'll look at the results, we can talk and figure it out when I have the information."

"And you'll help me?"

"With whatever you need, Savvy, you know that." Their eyes lock until Weiss's voice interrupts them.

"Derek," Weiss turns to him and Addison follows his pleading gaze.

"Addison, Savvy doesn't need to think about this right now," Derek intercedes.

She frowns at him. "This doesn't have anything to do with you."

"Or you," he retorts.

"Savvy asked my medical opinion, Derek, not yours."

"Addison, this isn't the time," he says firmly.

"Don't yell at her!" Savvy's lips are trembling and all three turn to her now.

"I wasn't…" Derek lifts his hands, his tone helpless. "Savvy, I'm sorry…"

"No, I'm so tired of this." She takes a step back from the group. "I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't want to hear it!"

"Sav," Weiss reaches to put his arms around her but she backs away more.

"Addie, I'm flying home on Thursday." She gives her a meaningful look.

"I'm here for whatever you need," Addison repeats quietly. She glances at Derek, who is looking at Weiss, whose face is conflicted.

"Let's all just take a deep breath," Derek suggests. "Nothing has to be decided right now."

"The two of you don't have to decide anything," Savvy's voice is trembling but she's glaring at Derek and Weiss like the four of them are squared off in tennis doubles.

"Sav, just slow down, baby," Weiss says soothingly; he rests a hand on her arm and she pulls away from him.

Weiss turns to Derek and Addison, pushing a frustrated hand through his curly hair. "We're talking about kids. Did Savvy tell you that we decided we're ready to start trying?"

"Weiss …" Savvy gives him a pleading look. "Don't do this."

"Sav, come on. Remember the names?" His voice is soft. "Corona and Astoria? And Jackson … short for Jackson Heights?"

Savvy's lips quiver and then she's fighting a teary smile. "That's not fair. Stop."

At Addison's expression she sighs. "Weiss had the bright idea to name our kids after cities in Queens."

"Hey, I'm no Beaufort, but that doesn't mean I can't have style," Weiss offers with an exaggerated shrug.

"He's kidding. I mean, I hope he's kidding." Savvy sniffs, wiping a hand across her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this now."

"Good." Weiss nods. "Good, honey, let's not talk about this, we can just put a pin in this until we're back home, okay? Let's focus now on just taking care of you, saying goodbye to your mom-"

"No!"

Weiss's eyebrows lift at Savvy's loud voice.

"No, I don't mean put a pin in this, I mean I don't want to talk about … babies that don't exist. Me, Weiss, I exist. I'm talking about my life."

"No, you're talking about results you haven't even seen, that no doctor has reviewed with you, and you're emotional, and you're-"

"God, that is so sexist. Emotional. I'm the emotional one?"

"Sav. Don't do this now. There's so much going on."

Addison exchanges an uncomfortable look with Derek. "Savvy, I think we'll just …"

"No, you stay, they can go. I'm ignoring you," Savvy adds to her husband, turning back to Addison. "You'll do it. When we get back to New York, won't you?"

"I …" Addison looks around helplessly. "Of course, Sav, I'll do whatever you need."

"Derek…" Weiss turns to him, spreading his hands.

"Addison," Derek raises his voice. "This conversation isn't over!"

"Well, it should be," Savvy turns and stalks back toward the path. Weiss follows her. Addison takes a step toward them, stopping when Derek rests a hand on her arm.

"Let them be."

"He's upsetting her." But she doesn't follow Savvy and Weiss, turning instead to walk toward the sandy strip of beach on the other side of the reeds.

"She's upset." Derek footsteps are softly damp behind her in the sand. When she stops to look out at the water, he stops too. "She has reason to be upset. But it's between them, why are you getting involved?"

"Savvy asked me for my medical advice!"

"Since when do you give medical advice without seeing the results?"

"I'm just trying to be there for her," Addison frowns.

"By whipping her up into the worst possible –"

"That's not what I was doing, Derek, I was being there. I understand why you wouldn't recognize what that looks like."

"Oh, give it a rest, Addison. Savvy's emotional enough without you making it worse for her."

"There's that word again. You think it's bad that she's expressing herself? Because it's inconvenient for you?"

"You know that's not what I meant. The issue is that she's upset and you're making it worse."

"I'm not making it worse! I'm trying to help!"

"I don't think she should make any decisions yet, that's all I'm saying."

"Well, she couldn't take any action even if she wanted to, since we're on a tiny island without a hospital or even a doctor." She pauses, seeing him giving her a slightly amused look. "I mean, other than the two of us. And I know you think I have a big ego, Derek, but even I wouldn't try to perform surgery on the island with … barbecue tongs."

He's quiet for a moment. "That's quite an image," he says finally.

She smiles a little bit, in spite of herself, then drops to her haunches in the sand.

"Addison?" He looks at her curiously.

"I thought I saw a starfish," she says vaguely, feeling a little dazed.

He offers her a hand up and she takes it.

"I really just want Savvy to be okay," she says softly when she's standing in front of him, sand crunching between their toes.

"I know, Addie, but so does Weiss."

"He hasn't thought about it as much as she has, Derek. You don't understand how fast this can be, how … insidious. I knew Savvy when her aunt died. It was our first year of college. She was so young – only 48. Not even ten years older than Savvy is now." She shudders at the thought.

She realizes she's still holding his hand and releases it. "Genetic testing and prophylactic surgery could have saved her aunt and her mother. That's what Savvy thinks. And it's what she thinks that matters."

"There are two of them in their marriage, Addison."

"But just one of them in Savvy's body. Just one of them with the ticking time bomb."

He doesn't respond.

"I'm going to go change," she says, brushing sandy fingers off on the side of her lightweight flowing skirt. "I'm on dinner shift tonight."

"What about your hand?"

"One-handed. And even if I don't help, I can entertain the others. Shifts are serious business here."

He's beginning to think it will take a lot more visits to the island before he works out all the various rules.

.-.-.

With Addison at the hearth preparing for dinner, Derek finds himself alone, with space to breathe. He sits on the swing on the patio in front of their room, looking out at the water, turning his phone over in his hands. There's a missed call.

He closes his eyes briefly, smells something sweet and floral for just a moment and then it disappears, and it's the salty-green smell of the reeds, the beachy scent drifting up from the water. it's Savvy's frightened face and Addison looking from her, to Weiss, to Derek, and back again. And then Weiss's haunted eyes, because he could lose everything. No matter what happens, something will be lost.

He sends a quick email instead of calling back. All fine, can't talk. Neither part is all true but neither part is all false, either, and at the sound of the dinner bell, he leaves his phone on the bedside table in the room.

"Do you recognize our little catches?" Beau grins at him in an almost friendly way at the hearth – there are children hanging onto both his legs, but he's managing to look completely unruffled by it, which even Derek can admit is rather amusing.

The sizzling little fishes taste surprisingly delicious, but then everything on the island is so pungent, from the semi-salty waters lashing the beach and the marshes to the smoky swirls rising from the fire pit. The reeds have their own smell – green, marshy, but also fresh.

"Did you help?"

"I'm injured."

"Convenient."

"Shut up," she says, swatting him with her good hand, which he catches automatically before it can make contact. She's smiling, though.

"I guess he missed you while you were on your shift."

Derek looks over with something between surprise and annoyance. It's Boswell, a troublemaker if he's ever seen one, standing with another blond Derek doesn't recognize.

Addison shifts uncomfortably at Bos's interruption and Derek is annoyed with both of them. Deciding to ignore Savvy's brother, he just plucks an uneaten little fried fish from Addison's plate and pops it into his mouth. Addison is looking at him with an expression he can't quite identify as he chews and swallows, but the rest of dinner proceeds without incident.

When everyone has finished eating and the children are scattered playing in the reeds, the cleared area and the edges of the sandy beach, the adults stay gathered around the hearth. It's a gentle, tired sort of ambience, relatives settling into casual groupings; Derek hears soft bits of conversation rising and falling like waves: discussing Catherine, the island, the rest of the family, even the fish they caught today and will catch tomorrow. It's soothing, even pleasant, Addison distracted by Savvy and no one asking him difficult questions or asking anything of him, really. He can just … be.

His phone shows another missed call when he returns to the room at Reeds.

.-.-.

"Augie. Augusta, would you slow down?" Savvy is chasing her cousin up the path toward the old family cottages; Weiss follows along.

"Sav, honey, can't this wait 'til the morning?" Russ, a sleeping Minna in his arms, turns around with a sigh.

Weiss notices that Augie's husband looks uncomfortable. He's spent a lot of time with Russ over the years; with Savvy and Augie as close as sisters, their husbands get thrown together plenty.

"Augie said wait 'til after dinner," Savvy says stubbornly. "And it's after dinner."

Augie pats her husband's arm. "It's fine, babe. You go on and take her inside, I'll be in in a bit."

"You sure?"

She nods, Russ leans down obligingly and Savvy kisses the top of the little girl's sleeping head. It stays light so long out here, he knows, and it's that strange kind of glow now where the sun is half-sunk and it's grey but also pink, and orange, so many colors it makes your eyes ache.

"Augie." Savvy's hands attach themselves to her hips as soon as Russ and Minna have gone. They're standing on the barely cleared path – he knows the cleared part gets rougher the closer you get to the cottages – waving reeds tickling their ankles. "I need you to listen to me, okay? You need to take the test. I know it's scary, I was scared too. Hell, I'm still scared."

"I'm not scared," Augie says softly.

"Then why won't you do it, Aug?"

"Savvy." Augie has tears in her eyes. "I don't need to take a test."

"You keep saying that, but you do need to," Savvy implores. "It can tell you if you have the gene, and then you can get prophylactic surgery before you get sick. That's what I'm going to do," and she throws Weiss a quick, challenging look that he's not stupid enough to rise to.

"Sav," Augie says quietly.

"All the other girls agreed. Even Cammie and she hates doctors. Look, I know it's hard, Augie, because of your mama."

"That's not why."

"…and you hate hospitals," Savvy adds faintly. "I know. But Aug, the test can tell you if you're likely to get cancer and then … well, then there are precautions you can take."

"No, honey." Augie rests her hand on Savvy's. "Listen to me. Sav, I don't need the test to tell me that."

Savvy stares at her; slowly, Weiss sees Augie nod.

"No, stop it," Savvy's voice breaks, her eyes widening. "No, no, Augie!"

Augie's voice is soft. "I didn't have any symptoms. I was a little tired, but everyone's tired. I just went for a routine-"

"No, it's not true, it's not true." Savvy launches herself at her cousin, gripping her arms. "Tell me it's not true."

"Sav, I'm sorry." Tears are running down Augie's face.

"Tell me!" Savvy shakes her and Weiss steps in, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her away from her cousin.

"Sav … it's okay." He can feel her shaking against him. "Shh, you need to calm down."

"She's lying, Weiss." Savvy turns a tear-streaked face to him. "She's lying, right? She just doesn't want to have the test."

"Savvy." He kisses the top of her head, his chest clenching at the fear and despair in her eyes, so clear even in the strange light.

"But, Augie, what about Minna?"

"Minna is going to be fine," Augie says quietly. "Minna has a great father. Whatever happens, she'll be okay."

"Let me go," Savvy tugs at Weiss's hold. "Please, it's okay."

He releases her and Savvy launches herself at Augie again but this time it's in a tight hug. Weiss watches sadly as Augie stands still for a moment, then grips Savvy back just as tightly; the cousins hold each other as the sun takes its final over the water, crying together.

.-.-.

"She's only thirty-seven." Savvy's voice is hoarse. She's been crying for what feels like hours, hardly speaking, with breaks only for white lightning and, at Weiss's periodic insistence, water.

"I know, Sav." Weiss strokes her long hair. Savvy's stretched out on the puffy antique couch in their room in her family's cottage, her head in his lap. There's a story about this couch but he can't remember it. There's a story about everything on the island, in his experience. Right now, though, his whole story is his wife.

Long periods of silence keep ensuing, where he thinks she might be asleep, and then she'll speak in that soft, broken voice that feels like it's ripping right through his heart.

"She might be fine." Savvy turns to look up at him. "Right, honey?"

"That's right," Weiss says quietly, stroking her hair, trying not to think about how quickly Savvy's aunt and mother were lost. "Augie's getting good care, Sav."

"Minna's only three years old. She needs her." Her voice cracks on the last word.

"I know. Sit up for a minute, baby, have a little more water."

"I need more white lightning."

"Let's start with the water." He helps her sit up; she leans against him, exhausted, and he rubs her arm.

"Weiss … you get it now, don't you, you get that I need the surgery."

"Okay. We don't have to talk about this…"

"No, I need to!"

"Sav," he lowers his voice the same degree as her raised one. "We're not going to argue about this now. Please. One thing at a time."

"it's already more than one thing. It's already too many things." Her voice cracks and she pulls away from him, reaching for the mason jar of white lightning on the table in front of her.

He waits for her to take a sip before he detaches the jar gently from her fingers and replaces it with a glass of water.

"You'll support me. If I want to do this, you'll support me, right?"

"Savvy, I will support you no matter what you want to do, that's what I signed on for … right?" He turns the question back to her, playing with the fingers of her left hand, running his own fingers over the familiar shape of her rings. "But you don't have to make any decisions right now. You got a lot of news today. Let's not rush into anything."

"I don't want to rush," she whispers. "Don't you get it? I'm not the one rushing. I'm the one being rushed."

She takes her hand out of his and reaches up instead, holding his face, her eyes with their ring of surprise hazel begging for understanding, so he tries his best.

.-.-.

"Addison?" He rubs his eyes, blinking at the pool of moonlight drifting in from the open curtains. Addison is standing in front of the window; there's an empty space in bed next to him. "What are you doing? It's late."

"I can't sleep."

He squints a little bit into the light.

"Savvy's cousin, Augie … she's sick, Derek."

"I know."

"She's only thirty-seven."

"That's terrible."

"With ovarian cancer, you know most women aren't even symptomatic until it's started to spread and then it's too late for..." She's still staring out the window and doesn't turn around. "Sav was already saying she wanted prophylactic surgery if she tests positive and here's her first cousin … "

"Addison." He rubs his eyes. "I still don't think she needs to think about the surgery now."

"Well, she's thinking about it. Augie's younger than she is."

"I know."

"She's younger than I am."

"Addison..." He pushes back the covers.

She turns around now. "What?"

"If you're not going to let me sleep, I might as well have some moonshine."

"White lightning," she corrects him, but she doesn't disagree.

She retrieves a mason jar from one of the closet shelves. "Some of Sav's family likes it chilled, but I think it goes down more easily at room temperature," she shrugs, and Derek takes the glass jar from her to study the deceptively innocent-looking clear liquid.

He unscrews the lid tentatively and sniffs, his eyes tearing almost instantly.

"How strong is this stuff?"

Addison takes the jar back, screws up her face in anticipation, and swallows a mouthful. He can see exactly where the liquid is in her throat by her expressions and then finally she gasps.

"It's … pretty strong," she says hoarsely, laughing a little before she starts coughing.

"Maybe we shouldn't …"

"Just get some water," she advises him, so he does.

.-.-.

"This stuff tastes horrible." He's seated on one of the round little poufs by the windows in their room – there's something child's-tea-party about it, maybe that it's so low to the ground his knees are worryingly close to his ears. She's across from him on the other pouf, the easier to keep swapping the mason jar back and forth.

"I don't know," she muses, taking another sip and pursing her lips. "I think you get used to it."

She hands him the mason jar and he examines it for a moment, then lets the clear liquid burn its way down his throat and into his belly.

"What's she like?"

"Who?" Derek looks up at Addison's abrupt question.

"Your intern. Meredith." She looks at him over the top of the mason jar, lips curling in a half laugh. "Mere…dith." She pronounces the name again, more slowly this time. "God, I can't believe you're dating an intern. Like the ortho attending when we were interns, you remember? Dr. Mann? Remember what we called him?"

"Dirty Old Mann," Derek mutters obediently, "but in fairness he was asking for it with that name."

"Now you're the dirty old … Shepherd." She laughs.

"Hey." He points his mason jar at her. "You're a … manwhore lover."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Neither does willingly getting into bed with Mark."

She considers this. "Dirty Old Shepherd," she says again in response, but there's no venom in her voice. She sounds almost amused.

"I didn't know she was an intern when we met, okay?"

"You thought she was … what, a resident? A very, very young attending?"

"I didn't know she was a doctor at all. We met at –"

"At…" she prompts him.

"At a bar," he says tightly.

She covers her mouth with both hands, eyes huge over the tips of her fingers. "A bar?"

He doesn't say anything.

"You picked her up in a bar and she just happened to turn out to work at the same hospital…" at his expression her eyes widen even further. "Work … for you? Oh my god, she's a surgical intern, isn't she. You were really out of dating practice, honey."

"Don't call me honey. And it was my first date in sixteen years."

"Fine, you were really out of dating practice, Derek."

"Do you really get a high horse when you slept with my best friend?" He raises an eyebrow at her, or tries, but his whole face feels loose from the clear liquid that's burning his throat.

"At least I didn't pick him up in a bar."

"You didn't need to because he was my best friend."

She nods. "True. So … " She takes another long sip of white lightning, legs tucked up under her on the bench now.

"Meredith is … she's … what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Tell me something about her. What she's like."

"She's … nice. She's lovely."

"Nice. So I guess you went for something different this time."

"What's Mark like, Addison?" He turns it around. "The Mark I know sleeps with anything that moves, he has a good heart but it's way less in charge of his brain than other parts are."

She looks like she's considering the question. "Mark is … distracting," she says finally.

"Well, so's Meredith. Except she's not an unrepentant manwhore."

Addison lifts an eyebrow. "How'd you meet her again?"

"Don't push it, Addie." But he's smiling a little as he pours her more white lightning.

.-.-.

"I can't sit here anymore." She looks as uncomfortable as he does, her long legs folded practically in two to fit on the pouf. "Let me just …" but she loses her balance when she tries to get up, laughing, then cursing when her injured hand strikes the hardwood floor.

"Don't break anything else," he advises, suddenly amused.

"I haven't broken anything in the first place. Can you just … " she indicates her supine body, surprisingly similar right now to a bug on its back. He has some difficulty getting up himself, but once he's on his feet he makes his way over to her and offers both hands to pull her up.

It's not easy.

"You're dead weight," he informs her as he hauls her to her feet.

"I love you too," she jokes and then freezes when she realizes what she's said.

"Let's sit," he interjects quickly before he's forced to dissect her slip and they manage to squeeze onto the antique padded bench in the middle of the room. It has an upholstered curl at either end to support them somewhat, and a flat seat of swirling brocade fabric. He traces the pattern absently with one finger.

"This is a marriage bench, I think," Addison murmurs.

"Don't those have storage space?"

"I don't know," she admits. "Derek … "

Her eyes are pale in the moonlight; he can see himself reflected. There's no room on this bench. There's no room on this island.

"Have some more white lightning," he says quickly.

"Right." She takes a long swallow, and barely flinches, and he follows suit.

"You know, this really does get better with age. I mean, time." He looks thoughtfully at the mason jar.

She laughs. "Yeah, I think I … got used to it. It's actually pretty good."

"Can I ask you something?"

"I don't know…" she makes a face at him over the top of the mason jar. "Can you?"

"I guess I don't know."

"In vino veritas…"

"True, but this is definitely not vino." He nods at the white lightning.

"Also true." She aims the mason jar at him, smiling. "It works though. I do feel better. You know, this island really might be magical."

"Addison."

"Yeah. Okay, ask."

"When was the last time you were here?"

"Where?"

"Here. On the island."

"Oh. Um … ages ago." She pauses. "Why do you ask?"

"Just something Beau said…"

"Now you're listening to Beau? I guess the island really is magical."

"Really."

"Yeah, really. If you even knew … but you don't believe it, do you?" She's laughing a little. "Even if you feel … magical?" She leans in toward him, not quite balanced. She's tipsier than he is, he thinks, which is impressive considering her normal level of alcoholic tolerance. "Do you?"

"I don't know," he responds. He touches her shoulder briefly. "Addison … you okay?"

"I'm … yeah. I'm very okay."

"I mean … how drunk are you?"

"The perfect amount."

"Clearly."

"No, really. I feel … better, so it must be … wait, why?" She raises her eyebrows at him. "How drunk do I … look?" And she's very close to him all of a sudden.

He laughs a bit, nervously. "What are you doing?" Danger signals start to go off in his head.

"Nothing," she purrs.

The buzzing of his phone interrupts them, vibrating against the wooden bedside table.

"Do you need to get that?" Her whisper is millimeters from his mouth and when he doesn't move she leans forward and captures his lips with hers.

He freezes.

She feels the same against him, her lips soft and chilly from the refrigerated moonshine, and her long hair falls into his face like it always does, covering both of them.

And then, in spite of himself, he thaws. For a moment. Just for a moment he kisses her back; when she deepens the contact, the contrast of her cold lips and warm mouth hits him like an electrical current.

That's when he comes to his senses.

"No." He starts to push her back gently, and then a little more firmly when she resists. "Addie. No."

"We're married," she whimpers, her forehead touching his. "Derek, we're still married."

"I know that. But you're drunk, and you're …"

"So? You're not exactly sober yourself," and she laughs a little, breathily, as he eases her away from him. "Derek, please …"

"Addison."

But she's reaching for him again, one of her familiar hands skimming over his jaw, and neither of them is laughing now. This close he can smell the white lightning on her breath and the familiar scent in her hair of the shampoo she decants into tiny glass travel bottles.

"We can't."

"Why?"

"It's a bad idea," Derek says as she inches closer.

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"But why?"

"Because it is, Addison, damn it, do you ever stop nagging-"

And then neither of them is talking because she's fastened her lips to his again, and she tastes like white lightning, and her weight is falling into him, warm and pliant. He's not thawing now, he's meltingand this time he doesn't push her away.


...and we fade to black. TBC. In lieu of hate mail, please send dark chocolate and/or wine. Review like you're Wonder Woman and the review button is Aries. Or whatever symbolism you need to make it happen. I promise I'll update as soon as I can, once I'm back in civilization and the The Climbing Way has moved forward!

PS The scene with Savvy and Augie was inspired by an episode of Strong Medicine (yes, I watched like two seasons of that, whatever) involving two siblings testing for the Huntington's gene. It was better than mine, but I did my best.