Hi, author here! Heads up, this chapter delves into some potentially triggering subjects, including attempted murder, drowning, abuse, drug abuse, panic attacks, and houselessness. Be gentle with yourself!
Bleary-eyed, Sage stirs, her limbs askew and aching on the old couch cushions. A moment of confusion slows her brain, then memories of the night before populate her mind like a bolt of lightning. The warm rain, the otherworldly beauty, the late night talk, and falling asleep nestled into Sebastian.
How he might not be leaving soon, after all.
Her face heats, remembering the scent of his body wash and skin. Craning her neck, she spots him at his computer, the keyboard's steady clack a hum in the background. Lenny rests on his lap, and for the first time, Sage finds herself jealous of her cat.
Still, she savors the moment. Waking up in the same room (as friends, she reminds herself) feels intimate in a way that's terrifying yet comforting on a soul-deep level. There's room for both, she supposes. Sage watches with a soft gaze as he reaches down to scratch Lenny's cheek, as the cat presses against his touch in return.
The clacking stops as she groans, arching her spine in a stretch that radiates into her entire being. Sebastian leans away from his monitor, grinning. "Nice bed head. And I thought I had a shit sleep schedule. It's one in the afternoon."
"Pff." Sage huffs as she flattens her hair, but a smile slips through. "It was a long night!" Rolling her neck, a final release of tension, she pads to Sebastian and squints at his screen. "What are you doing?"
"Just working on a project for a client." He pulls a spare chair next to his. "Have a seat. Brought you coffee, too."
She sits beside him, shoulder to shoulder. "I'm so glad we share a caffeine addiction." Sipping, Sage stares at the lines of letters and symbols. They make no sense to her, but to Sebastian it's an entire playground. Sage watches his eyes narrow as he creates in a language she'll never comprehend.
"I have no idea how you understand all that."
Sebastian snorts. "That's how I feel when you talk about your farming stuff." He pauses. "Not that I mind, though."
"Huh." She'd never considered it that way, as if she was cultivating a skill others would consider beyond their reach. In her mind she's just been doing her best to survive. But if she retreats and removes her survival-focused lens, maybe she is building a skill. "I'm glad the storm didn't turn out to be anything serious. Though," she says, waggling her eyebrows, "who knows. In ten years, maybe they'll discover a bunch of freaky aftereffects."
"Hmm, yeah, in ten years, we could turn into moss people. We'd have to scrape it from our skin every day. Scratch my back if I scratch yours?" Sebastian freezes for a millisecond, blinking, then turns to his computer.
The implication isn't lost on Sage, the hint that in ten years they might still be a part of each other's lives. The thought warms her more than the coffee, straight to her toes and the tips of her fingers. "Well, we'll have to. If we don't, everyone will guess we went out into the rain, and they'll point at us and call us moss people. Can't have that."
He chuckles. "No, no, we can't."
Sebastian's phone rings.
"Hello? Oh hey Sam, what's up?" He frowns. "What? Why the fuck were they out so early? Is she alright? Fuck...that's heavy. Yeah. Go ahead. Talk to you later."
Sage's stomach clenches, the warmth gone. "What was that about?"
"Do you know Pam?"
She does and doesn't. Pam's an alcoholic - she knows that because she can spot one a mile off. She sees it in the way Pam shuffles to the saloon every day, the vague smell of booze as much a part of her as her 80s perm and lurid purple eyeshadow.
The woman reminds her far too much of her mother, and Sage has always kept her distance. "I'm aware of her. Why?"
"She was driving a bunch of kids from Grampleton to a gridball game and got into an accident. I guess there's some flooding."
"Shit...how is she?"
Sebastian shrugs. "Apparently she hydroplaned, lost control. Drove the bus into a river. Pam's in Zuzu, in the ICU. A kid almost drowned, but the EMTs got there in time to save him."
Sage drops her coffee. The plastic mug falls to the floor, and hot liquid spatters onto her legs, but she doesn't feel it. She's no longer in Sebastian's room. Sage is eight years old, in the backseat of a car, parked next to a lake while her father sits behind the steering wheel, eerily silent. Her mother is unresponsive on the passenger's side, slumped forward.
"Gonna go fer a swim, Sage." Leaning from the front seat, her father grasps Sage's legs, tiny beneath his calloused hands, inches away. He's gripping too hard, too tight.
It hurts.
Sage has trouble deciphering his slurred words. His face is blotchy and the sour smell of alcohol fans over her. She recoils, sinking into the sticky leather seat while he buckles her in.
The doors lock, and he wrenches the gear shifter into reverse. Adrenaline courses in Sage's veins as she whirls around. Dad said they were here to swim. Why is he inching toward the lake?
"Dad? You're going the wrong way, you need to stop! Dad!"
He pays no mind. A peculiar sloshing sound echoes through the vehicle. Sage yanks at her seatbelt, so tight it's leaving marks on her skin, screaming. But it won't give. It's stuck. Frozen in terror, she watches the clouded lake creep above her head, the window the only thing separating her from the wall of water. "...Dad? Daddy, please, don't do this, Daddy?"
It's rushing in from the bottom of the door now, a horrible splashing noise, icy, soaking Sage's feet. Her heart races like a rabbit's, faster and faster, so fast she thinks she might explode.
A siren blares.
The car stops.
A man ducks into the car and cuts her seatbelt, lifting her out from the front door. Her eyes dart around, her vision a blur, searching for her mother. She spots her ten feet off, limp in someone's arms. A cop. Another wrestles her father into a black and white sedan, twenty feet ahead. Sage trembles, trembles so hard the man holding her tightens his grip to the point of pain. Someone wraps a blanket around her shoulders and ushers her into another vehicle, then into a police station.
Why is she still shaking?
"Sage? Sage, if you don't answer, I'm getting Harvey."
She blinks. Sebastian comes into focus, brow creased. He's holding her arms, shaking her. The mug's on the desk now, the coffee cleaned up.
"I'm sorry. I - I'm good."
He stares, maintaining his grip. "Really? Because you checked out for almost five minutes straight. Sage, what the fuck just happened?"
She curls into herself, hot tears blurring her vision. One escapes her eye, and she sobs, unable to hold it any longer. Her breaths are shallow, too much, and she sways as dizziness swarms her.
Arms reach out and pull her into softness. It takes a moment to realize it's Sebastian, holding her flush against him, murmuring. "Hey. You're here. I'm here."
A vague voice, drilled into her from years of repetition, sounds in her mind.
Three things I can feel.
His body, solid against her. His palm, placed on the back of her head. His breath, tickling her ear.
Three things I can hear.
The whirring of the computer, Lenny's mewling, and Sebastian's reassurances.
"I'm sorry." Sage hiccups, holding fistfuls of his shirt. "Seb, my dad did something really fucked up."
"Shit, okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I don't wanna upset you."
She barely hears. "He tried to drown us when I was a kid. He was drunk and on pills and tried to drive us into a lake. Mom was drugged, I think, she wouldn't wake up. We could have died if some kid hadn't called the police. I think he wanted to kill us."
"Holy fucking Yoba, Sage. I - I'm so sorry." Sebastian's arms tighten around her.
She sniffles into his t-shirt. "He reversed the car into the water. I was in the backseat and it was past my window, coming in through the door. I was so scared, Seb. I thought I was gonna die. Then the cops found us."
Taking a deep lungful of air, Sage steadies her shaking hands.
"They took us to the station and separated me and Mom from Dad. Slapped him with a DUI and sent him off. Mom and I were on the streets for a few weeks after that, trying to stay away from Dad. But she went back. She always did. He was furious when we showed up, he-" Choking on a fresh sob, she falters and stiffens.
No.
"Hey, hey, you don't need to keep going if you don't want to. Don't push yourself. I'm so sorry, Sage." He rests his chin on her.
Sebastian smells of fresh laundry and coffee and Sage allows herself to slump against him, to find comfort in his steady heartbeat. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Sage feels a realization sinking into her. Maybe it's fucked up to think about right now, or maybe she's clinging to any source of comfort she can find, but this is more than a butterfly-infested crush. More than a simple infatuation. No, she's come to care for and rely on him far more than that.
The unplanned words bubble from her. "I'm really glad we became friends, Seb."
"Me too, Sage."
If he'll allow her the solace of his embrace, in that moment, she can accept it. Accept that she's let him in, somehow. Her breathing slows as they linger, slotted together, until Sebastian taps her shoulder. "Do you feel okay to go upstairs? You should eat something."
"Yeah. Let me wash up." Stumbling to his bathroom, she splashes cold water onto her cheeks. Water is good. Water is beautiful. Water can wash it away. The mirror greets her with a vision of puffy eyes and blotchy skin. It'll have to do.
In the kitchen, Robin and Maru sit, silent. It's strange. In the city, hearing about a stranger's injury wouldn't alter your day much. But in a tiny village, the slightest ripple affects everyone; a pebble tossed into a puddle's delicate ecosystem.
Sebastian pulls out a chair for her. Maru squints as she scribbles notes on a pad of paper.
"Do you think Pam'll be okay?" His sister jumps as Sebastian speaks.
"I can't say for sure, but I heard from Harvey she's trending in a positive direction. They're hoping to transfer her to his care within a few days."
Sage watches their exchange, mute. Robin places a hand on hers. Her skin's warm and surprisingly soft. "You alright, Sage?" From the corner of her eye, she sees Sebastian shake his head the tiniest bit. Recognition dawns on Robin's face, and she leaps to her feet, rummaging in the fridge. "I dunno about you three, but I'm starving. Anyone want sandwiches?"
Turning, she flashes a weak smile. "Also, I'm glad that rain ended up being harmless. There were two sets of wet footprints leading to the basement when I woke up this morning." Her grin intensifies, and Sebastian and Sage look away, the corners of their lips twitching despite the heavy mood hanging over the table. It's a testament to the human spirit, Sage muses. Finding levity in dark moments.
Robin's sandwiches taste like home. Sage recognizes Evelyn's homemade bread, stuffed with roast beef, sharp cheddar, lettuce, mayonnaise, and tomatoes. Sage dropped them off a week ago. It's kind of a mindfuck, eating a sandwich with ingredients she helped create. The comforting flavor tethers Sage to herself, brings her closer to earth.
She appreciates Robin more than she can say. It's difficult to stand up, her bare thighs sticking to the wooden chair as if her body resists the thought of leaving. "Robin, thank you for the food. I hate to go so soon after, but I need to check on my farm."
Sebastian joins her. "I'll give you a ride." Robin and Maru snort, waving, but they pretend not to notice as they drift toward the front door.
Outside, heat hangs heavy in the air. The world is still, no breeze to be felt, and beads of sweat form at her temple within seconds. Sage straddles Sebastian's bike, pressing her cheek into the spot between his shoulders. "Can we take the long way?"
She wants to hold him a bit longer, to find peace in his sturdy presence. It might be a little selfish, a little needy, but she supposes that's what happens when you get attached. Her chest is raw, pried open, until he turns and smiles at her, gentle and patient.
"I'd prefer it."
Relief soaks her as they speed aimless through the Valley. Warm wind whips at their hair, and with it, the last of Sage's panic dissipates. It blows away, left behind as molecules settling on branches and grass. As they approach her farm, she closes her eyes, lingering.
"Sage?"
"Sorry. I'm getting off."
"No, it's not that." Sebastian points toward the fields. The tarps are gone, blown to the side. Sage's breath hitches as she hurries toward her crops. Her gasp of horror turns into one of delight as she notices the vines bending under the weight of the biggest, ripest tomatoes she's ever seen.
"Sebastian, come look!" She runs her fingers over the heavy, deep red vegetables, smooth and unblemished, marveling at the sudden boon. "That rain was no fucking joke, holy shit. These were tiny and green not even twenty-four hours ago!"
Grinning, he joins her. "You could make a fantastic pasta sauce with these. Bet Mom would love that."
"Yeah?" Sage watches as he picks the ripest tomatoes with care. "I'll keep that in mind. I've always wanted to try making my own. You don't have to help, though, Seb. I'm sure there's stuff you'd rather be doing."
He quirks an eyebrow. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not big on the idea of leaving you alone right now. I know you're capable but..." He rubs his arm. "I'd rather keep you company for a bit."
Sage nods, accepting it. This whole letting people in thing, it takes practice, but she thinks she's getting better. It's scary, but she trusts him too, and that's even wilder.
Her phone buzzes. Sage plucks it from her pocket, expecting a call from a grocer. "Hello, this is Sage Sandoval. Who am I speaking with?"
"Your fuckin' father, thass who."
A tomato falls from her hand to the ground with a sickening splat. Sebastian glances at her, frowning. She says nothing, but her father has no issue filling the silence. His slurred words send her stomach plummeting, bile rising in her throat.
"Lissen, you don't get to desert yer fam'ly. Y'think yer all high 'n mighty now 'cause you left the city?"
Sage ends the call and presses the mute button, staring ahead, face blank. Her voice is flat. "Seb, can you tell me how to block a number?"
"Who was that?"
Her eyes stay fixed, static. "My dad. He's been texting since I left, demanding money and threatening to find me. I haven't answered. That's the first time we've spoken since Zuzu." She's frozen, chilled and clammy despite the smothering heat. Focus on getting rid of him.
Placing his hands on her shoulders, Sebastian ducks into her line of vision. "Okay. We'll finish picking these, and then we'll call your service provider."
"Yeah. Got it." Sage resumes her task with jerky, mechanical motions, feeling like a baby chick as she trails after Sebastian. She follows him inside after they finish and it occurs to her: she's never felt the need to lock her door here.
Perhaps she should.
"Do you have a copy of your phone bill? There should be a number you can call. You can say someone's harassing you and you want them blocked."
Nodding, Sage walks on numb feet to the bookshelf and pulls out a folder. She dials the number and sinks to the ground, waiting for an answer. "Hello? Hi, yes, I want to block someone? They're harassing me. Yes, the most recent call. Thank you." She tosses the phone on her bed, eyeing it warily.
"Well, that's one line of defense. You could also change your number if you wanted." Sebastian crouches beside her. "Is that an option?"
"No, too many potential clients have it. I wouldn't be able to contact half of them." Sage curses herself for not keeping thorough records. That's hindsight for you, twenty-fucking-twenty.
Sebastian traces lines on the wooden planks. "Alright, not much you can do there. Does he know where you are?"
As her fingernails dig into her palms, she forces herself to consider the possibility. He mentioned her leaving the city, and he's been to the farm. "I can't say for sure. He knows I left Zuzu, but I'm not sure if he's aware Grandpa Charlie gave me this place."
"In that case, we should warn Lewis, give him a description of your dad so he can tell people to keep an eye out."
Sage balks, jerking away from Sebastian. "What? No! No, I don't want the whole town hearing about this. About...fuck, Seb, it was hard enough telling you about it."
Sighing, he rubs his thumb into her shoulder, a lovely friction in the midst of her anguish. "I know. I know it's hard. But we don't have to say it's your dad. All we have to tell him is someone's threatening you and give the description."
Curling her knees to her chest, she remains silent.
"Sage. It's important we keep you safe. We'll do everything we can to make sure Lewis only hears what he needs to and nothing else, okay?"
Though the idea makes her queasy, the remains of Robin's sandwich churning, she nods. "Okay," she mumbles.
Sebastian walks to the entrance and jiggles the knob, peering at the latch. "I can have Mom reinforce your locks. Your windows too."
Sage nods again.
Three loud knocks sound at the door. Sage squeaks, primed to run. Sebastian stiffens.
"Sage? It's Shane."
Deflating, she sags and slumps onto the floor. "Oh, thank Yoba. Seb, can you...?"
"Yeah, of course." Sebastian ushers him in. Shane cocks his head at Sebastian, taking a seat at the table. The chair scuffs over the wooden planks as he settles.
"Hey, Sage. And Sebastian." A quirked eyebrow, and a quick glance at Sage. She avoids it. "I wanted to stop by before my shift, see how the farm's holding up after that rain. Chickens doing well?"
"Yeah, yeah, they're good. It's weird, it literally made my tomatoes grow in the matter of hours, but I mean, that's...that's good." Sage trails off. Her mind's still fuzzy, the echoes of her father's voice drowning out her surroundings.
Shane shifts and surveys the room with narrowed eyes. "Sooo...not to be nosy, but is something going on? The mood's kinda off in here, and Sage, you're whiter than a sheet."
Sage's gaze flickers to Sebastian's, and she sighs. "Not exactly, no. Uh, someone might be trying to find me. Someone violent. We're brainstorming ways to make sure that doesn't happen, I guess?"
"Violent?" Shane frowns.
Sebastian sits beside her. "Y'know...you don't have to share anything you don't want to, but it could help to have some details, if we need to get the police involved. Only if you're comfortable sharing."
Shane and Sebastian have both shared secrets with her. They're her two closest friends in the Valley, and Shane was her first. She owes him the truth, at the very least. With a deep breath, she chooses the metaphorical step forward.
"Shane, my parents are massive addicts. Alcohol, meth, heroin, cocaine, whatever they find. I provided for them since I was fourteen. That's the whole reason I moved here, to escape. I was sick of it and wanted to live for myself for a change." Her arms tremble against her knees.
"Dad isn't happy he lost his cash cow. Now he's threatening to come after me. He was quiet for a bit and I'd hoped he'd given up, but he called a little while ago. I...don't know if he knows where I am. This was his father's farm, so it's not out of the question." Sage's fingernails dig into her arm. "I thought ignoring would make him back off, but..."
Leaning forward, Shane rests his elbows on his knees. "What happens if he finds you?"
"I imagine he'd coerce me to return to Zuzu. He wants me under his thumb again. It served him best when I was there to make money and support his lifestyle." The words fall blunt from her lips, thudding to the floor like stones.
"Yoba, Sage. That's...fuck, that's a lot." Shane works his jaw.
Sebastian slides an arm around her. Shane gives him a look, but says nothing.
Her phone rings. Another unknown number.
The three stare at it. A jolt of terror paralyzes Sage, but she's expecting calls from potential clients. Ignoring it could cost her a contract. As she reaches to answer, Sebastian places his hand over hers. "Wait. I'll record it, just in case. Answer it on speaker."
Shane hums in approval. "Good idea."
On Sebastian's okay, Sage presses the little green speaker button. "Hello?"
The harsh sound of breaking glass crackles from the speaker. A woman, her mother, cries, and her father's voice slurs, too loud. "Fuckin' bitch Sage, blocking my number, where d'you get off…think you can...can leave. I'll show you. I'm gonna make you pay. Y'think y'can juss abandon us?"
She shivers as her father rants. "Y'think I ever hurt you b'fore, juss wait till I get my fuckin' hands on you, you'll be beggin' for yer life, stupid, ungrateful..." She claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "You can't hide at that fuckin' farm forever!" The phone clicks, and the dial tone drones, a haunting noise. Sebastian stops recording, his lips set into a grim line.
Sage's body is foreign, no longer hers. It's dissolving into a million different pieces, each trying to scatter to a far-off corner of the earth. Surely she'll come apart, and he'll find her, and drag her back, back to the life she hated. No more farm, no more Maru, Shane, Robin, Linus, or Sebastian. A high-pitched sob wrenches itself from Sage's throat.
Sebastian tightens his grip around her. "Sage? We're not going to let anything bad happen." She breathes beneath him, fast, too fast. Her heart gallops a bruising pace in her chest and her vision blurs. She tries to stand, to flee - to where, she has no idea - but her legs have no strength. She only scrabbles against the floor.
"Shane. Please. Medicine cabinet. Please, there's some Xanax." She gasps her request between deep, desperate breaths. Her head swims, too much oxygen yet not nearly enough.
He's on his feet before she finishes, and returns with a pill bottle and a glass of water. The icy liquid is a shock to her system as she gulps. Sage downs the pill and shivers, curled into herself.
She hasn't had a panic attack since she lived in Zuzu. The adrenaline and terror coursing through her veins is a harsh reminder of the life she left behind, the life she'll do anything to stay away from. The life she thought she could forget.
Sebastian keeps close, rubbing his hand up and down her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. "This okay?" At her nod, he continues. "We're gonna figure this out."
Things I can see, things I can feel, things I can smell, things I can hear. Sage focuses on the feel of the solid wooden floor beneath her, the sound of birds singing outside the window, the sight of Shane crouching before her, and the scent of Sebastian. Slowly, she floats down, feeling less scattered, more whole.
"I don't know what the fuck to do," she whimpers, tangling her fingers into her hair.
Shane and Sebastian answer in unison. "We'll figure it out."