She woke up the next morning feeling slightly dehydrated. The memory of the night before had her crawling back under the covers in a tiny ball of nerves. Just a little longer...

But crops won't just water themselves, will they? Reluctantly, she pulled herself together and went to take a shower. She always loved her showers hot, really hot. If she didn't come out in a cloud of steam with second degree burns on her shoulders, knees red, skin cracking, it wasn't good. Something about warm running water felt just like a hug. A big, burning one and she was craving it. It's okay. You're okay.

And she was, chopping wood relentlessly, watering, destroying boulders, scything, rinse and repeat. No. Thinking. Eating a few granola bars to hopefully not collapse under a falling tree, planting new crops, she was unstoppable. She was doing the damn thing, and as she looked at her decaying pickaxe, she remembered the mines.

By noon, she was headed towards Robin's house determined to find copper, and maybe enquire about the house while I'm at it. She was walking fast, trying to focus on her revolting muscles instead of her brain, and thoughts that came with it. Moonlight skin. No. Thinking. Hand on hip. C'mon Em, there's no use. It's done now. Flashes of past unwanted touches came to her mind and her heart started racing. Was it from the hike? She shut her eyes hard, panting. Not now, she begged. She was almost there.

She approached the carpenter's house, and stopped just before entering, trying to slow her breathing. Placing one hand on her eyes, pushing a bit too strongly on her eyeballs, frowning. She yelped when someone opened the door, taking a step back. Sebastian's eyes were as wide as hers.

"Oh Yoba you scared me!" she blurted, out of breath.

He looked at her, narrowing his eyes a little.

"It's so high here and I'm clearly out of shape."

She was fake smiling again and avoiding eye contact. Not good at faking it. Again. He imperceptibly frowned and gazed at her some more before talking. He knows. Again. She cringed at the thought.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, his expression turning into his default calm and collected state.

Stay calm. "I'm just here to see Robin." She shrugged, playing it cool.

"That I can see." There was a little twinkle in his eyes. "Need bigger steps for your porch maybe?" She couldn't help but smile, for real this time.

"I'm thinking about getting rid of them altogether, those things did try to murder me. Maybe I'll go for an incline instead." She teasingly answered, glad for the distraction.

He was smiling a bit. It wasn't the all-encompassing warmth type, like the ones Sam gave. It was soft and kind, barely there and she almost missed it. But somehow grounding as well.

"Sounds great." he chuckled, putting his hand on his mouth. "But I gotta go. Sam's waiting for band practice.

- Oh. You're in a band?

- Well, kind of. Sam plays the guitar, Abby the drums and I have a synth. But we don't really do anything serious. Even if Sam wants us to "go far and reach for the stars"... or something." Sebastian laughed at the air quoted statement.

"You can come if you want." He said, with only a minor twitch on his expression, betraying the expectancy.

She wanted to, but she almost had a panic attack on her way here and wasn't feeling all that ready to be around people. Around you. She could swear she saw something flash on Sebastian's face. What was that?

"I'd love to but… I was thinking about going to the mines today. Maybe next time?"

The flash went as quickly as it came. She couldn't decide if it was disappointment, worry, understanding or all the above. Just how perceptive was he? Em wasn't used to people playing on the same field as her. She knew she was good at observing people and seeing their intentions, she also knew it was a survival tactic she had to develop in order to prevent things from escalating at home. She never liked seeing the same thing in other people's eyes.

"Yeah sure, next time then. Be careful in the mines."

She didn't see his expression as he left, she didn't even notice the knots in her stomach untangling during the conversation. But she did understand Robin's statement from that first day. There was some kind of understanding between the two of them, she could sense it. Like-minded people tend to recognize each other… She did see a bit of herself in him, unfortunately. And maybe something else too, but she couldn't place her finger on it.

--

Renovating the house will cost her an absurd amount of money. She was so goddamn poor it was almost laughable, and she kept thinking about alternative ways to make a living as she walked to the mines. Planting a wide variety of crops was already in motion, she was hesitating between building a coop and buy some chickens to hopefully make more of a living down the line, or just saving up for a kitchen. Beehouses maybe?

I won't survive on granola bars and salads indefinitely. But my income isn't barely one and the coop is more affordable... she paused at the entrance, looking at the creepy ladder that went down into the darkness. A weird old guy was there and gave her an old rusty sword. What the heck? Trying not to question why she would ever need a sword to shatter piles of rocks, and the fact that this man, Marlon, was missing an eye and looked like he'd seen hell and back, she went down the hole.

Mining was fun. Sure, she almost crushed her big toe under a crumbling copper nugget and got fiercely attacked by angry bats but hey. At least she got what she was looking for and was in one piece. One sweaty, dirty and breathless piece. It was time for a break, and she decided to stop at the entrance of the mines, next to the bridge above le lake. She made sure no one was around, took off her shoes and slipped her feet in the icy cold water, making her shiver both in surprise and relief.

Getting her cigarettes, she also took a gem she found down there. It was irregular and translucent, letting the reflection of the moon on the water shine right through it. So pretty, she thought as her eyes focused on the tiny rays of light. She always loved pretty rocks. She used to bring one from everywhere she went and had quite the collection now. Small ones, big ones, damaged ones, all of them got their own feel. Just like snails. And this one was almost shining in the moonlight… just like him.

"This is stupid." she muttered under her breath, before dragging another long puff.

She wasn't unfamiliar with the small feeling of wonder and longing she had, looking at the stone. But every time, the same song played in her head.

There's no use. You always think you're getting better and always fall in the same traps all over again. There is no use, because you have nothing to give. You didn't have anything to give then, and not much now. This hollow and empty void in your heart cannot be filled, not by anyone but you. The feeling of connection you have is in your head. And if it's not then… That means he's been through enough shit already. You have no right to bring your heavy, complicated and unwanted burden on his shoulders. It's not fair to him. He doesn't deserve that. Nobody does, for that matter.

She knew it and yet, as her feet gently stroked the surface of the lake, she yearned so much for someone just to see her. It was so painful, all on her own, so lonely. She never had more than one good friend in her life, and even she didn't get to see her vulnerable that often. She wanted to scream how painful it is to be, beg for it to stop, stream rivers of tears, disappear completely from the surface of the earth and please, oh please someone, something, anything to get her to finally stop. Thinking.

But she never told anyone. She couldn't. She couldn't even cry when she needed it and it always returned to her ten times worse when she least expected it. Always alone though. Always when no one was looking.

Taking a deep inspiration, she began to sing. She sang the loneliness, the anguish, all the tears she didn't shed, the hearts she broke. She sang for that little girl in her white raincoat, that didn't know any better. She wished she could hug her and tell her it's going to be okay. She wished for someone to hug her, tell her the same thing, and believe it. She sang for all the pieces of her that went away, forcefully taken by people stronger than her. People that didn't care about her or what she wanted. People who took, robbed and took again, leaving her with marks on her skin and holes in her heart. She was feeling so empty, it was crushing her. No one could love an empty shell, right? No one would fight for it.

Even I don't.

This was the most painful of all of her feelings. How was anyone going to help when she couldn't help herself? When she took that little girl and buried her deep, where no one could hear. Not even her. How could anyone see anything when she did her best to avoid any kind of vulnerability. Even at that, you fail. Was it her own voice? She didn't even know anymore. Years of verbal abuse just replaced those kinds of things.

Her breathing was calm and she didn't cry, losing herself in the glistening rays of moonlight, accepting her fate. She needed to get home. She sighed. Got up on autopilot, put her shoes back on her feet and dragged herself along the trail, her eyes focused on the ground, not even seeing anything. She didn't even notice the small orange glimmer under the fir. She didn't light the fire when she got home. She didn't take her clothes off. Didn't push her covers. And didn't dream, that night.