*author note : Yes I added Gail. I think the show has an opportunity to really do right by this character addition. I hope they do! Gail will be an added layer to helping those heal. With her quirky ways. :)

Chapter 7 – " Wayfaring Stranger "

(Dina's POV)

⸻

The container was still warm in my hands. Steam curled faintly from the lid as I stepped onto Gail's porch. It was a bright morning, the town just starting to come alive. As it does everyday.

I could've just left it like I usually did—quietly on the bench by her door. Payment for her time, her patience, the space she gave me to fall apart without judgment. But something told me to go in today. Maybe it was the way JJ clung to my leg this morning. Maybe it was the way the air felt too still.

Or maybe… I just needed something steady.

I knocked once. Waiting patiently.

Gail opened the door with that usual calm in her face—eyebrows slightly lifted like she already knew something I didn't.

"Hmm. Smells like thyme," she said, stepping aside to let me in. Arm outstretched, her smile reaching her eyes.

"Extra carrots, this time" I replied, holding up the stew, shaking it slightly. Giving a stretched smile "JJ pulled a few early and I didn't have the heart to stop him."

"You're bribing your therapist with food again, tsk tsk." She made the clicking noise with her mouth. Teasing me as she often does. I think she likes to pick fun, not sure how often she gets to with her patients. I guess that's what I am?

I shrugged. "Can you blame me?"

"I guess not.. payment accepted" she winked and carried on inside.

The inside of her place was warm and familiar—soft light through the windows, worn chairs, mismatched mugs. I sat down in my usual spot, next to the plant she still hadn't named. I glanced at the photo of Eugene. She understands loss too.

She placed the container on the counter, leaving it untouched. Then turned to me with that gentle stillness that always made the silence feel safer. She sat legs crossed. Pensive. Hands resting on the notebook in her lap.

"You look tired," she studied.

"Oh, that's because I am." I half laughed.

She waited. Eyes glancing over my face.

"I had the dream again," I murmured. "Same one."

She nodded like she already knew. "She's walking ahead of you still?"

"Yeah. I call out but she never turns around. And if I stop moving, I know I'll lose her."

Gail tilted her head. "What happens if you catch up?"

I stared at my hands. "I don't. I never do." The defeat coming alive. As if winning in my dreams wasn't enough.

She didn't say anything. Just let the quiet wrap around us like it always did. She liked to let things sit in the open. She said it makes them real. And we can't heal, without it being said out loud.

"I'm so damn exhausted," I whispered, exasperated.

"Saying it out loud" she said, "that comes right before something shifts."

I gave her a skeptical look. "You think this is my prelude to enlightenment? Have I won therapy now?" I smirked.

"No," she said. "But maybe you will win clarity."

She crossed the room and stirred the stew absently. The smell was grounding—earthy, comforting. I'd made it a hundred times.

"You ever cook something and it reminds you of someone?" she asked, almost like she already knew the answer.

"Every day." I say flatly. What is this?

Her expression changed, just slightly. Still calm. But there was something else behind her eyes now—weight, maybe. Intention.

"I believe everything not only happens for a reason, but everything also HAS a reason" she stated.

"Do you think you made this stew on purpose?" She asked quizzically.

" Uhm. No.. it's stew. I make it sometimes. I don't think there's some hidden prophecy behind it" I try to keep my annoyed tone at bay. She often has a reason to her madness but this is beyond me.

"Hm. I've always thought of stew as a meal for an event. Something that symbolizes warmth and invitation. Like a gathering, or…" she paused, eyes gazing off into the distance. Then back to me. "a homecoming." She shrugged.

I blinked. "Gail… what are you saying?"

She didn't answer right away. Just stirred.

"I saw Maria last night." she said softly. "She was walking back from the gate with someone."

I froze. My stomach clenched. No. It couldn't be.

"It isn't my place to be telling you this. I know that. I'm slightly ashamed. But I saw you with the stew. It dawned on me, everything does happen for a reason. I thought you should know." She added this quickly. Discussing the return of -Her- like it was an average Tuesday.

I sat back in the chair, breath suddenly too shallow.

"Are you not going to tell me who?" My question sharp.

"I don't think I need to." Gail met my eyes.

I closed my eyes. "Jesus Christ." My voice broke.

"What are you feeling?" She leans towards me. Elbows on her knees.

"I don't know…" I really don't..

She nodded. That was enough.

We didn't talk about it any more. I let it sit there between us, the truth coiling around my ribs. And then it was time, I stood and picked up last week's empty container.

"Bring more carrots next time," she requested politely.

"Only if JJ signs off." I smirk again shrugging my shoulders.

Outside, the sun continued to rise. There were no clouds. In retrospect, it is a beautiful day.

I didn't go home.

My feet took me toward Maria's office instead, past people carrying on with their jobs or mundane tasks.

I didn't think. I didn't plan. I just walked.

The door wasn't locked. I pushed it open without knocking.

Maria looked up from her desk, pen halfway through a line. She set it down and stood slowly, like she'd been waiting for this.

"You saw her." I accused.

"I did."

"Why didn't you come to me?" My voice spiked—sharper than I meant it, but not enough to stop. "You didn't think I deserved to know?"

"I was going to tell you."Maria spoke calmly.

"When? After you tucked her in? After you fed her?"Scoffing at her.

"Don't do that." she said, calm but firm.

"You don't think I have the right to be angry?" My hands were shaking now. "She left. She left, Maria. And you—you let me sit in that house while she was here."

"She asked for me," Maria said. "Not you."

That hit harder than it should've. She didn't ask for me?

"I didn't know how you'd want to handle it," she continued. "I figured you deserved to face it on your terms."

"There are no terms for this." I seethed.. "She was gone. For a year. I thought she was dead." Now my voice breaking. Betraying me. I wanted to be angry.

"Trust me, I know" Did she?

"No, you don't," I snapped. "You don't know what it's like to carry someone in your chest that long. To raise a son with their shadow in every corner of the house. To sleep in an empty bed beside their memory"

Maria didn't move. Didn't flinch.

"I didn't get to walk away. She did. I stayed. I held it together. And now she strolls through the gate and you treat her like she's home from patrol—"

"She's not okay, Dina."

The words landed like a punch.

"She's not the girl who left," Maria said. "But she came back. She isn't ok, but she is changing for the better."

I sank into the chair across from her. All the fight drained out in one breath.

"I hate her," I whispered. "For leaving me."

Maria nodded. No words.

"But I think if I saw her… I'd fall apart."

"Maybe you should," she said. "Maybe it's time."

I looked up at her. My throat burned.

"I don't know how to feel."

"You don't have to know right now."

I nodded. Slowly. My hands wiped at my face, catching the tears before they could fully fall. But they came anyway—quiet, steady.

"She's staying here?" I asked after a long pause.

Maria nodded. "My guest room. For now."

"Does she know I know?"

"No."

I exhaled, slow and trembling.

She was back. I don't know if I could survive seeing her again.

I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from her either.

"Don't tell her."This wasn't a request, I demanded it.

"I won't keep secrets. It's a promise we made. But, I will avoid it as long as I can. But if she asks. I won't lie."Maria gave me that look, the look of finality. When she has made up her mind and it won't change.

"Ha, cute. I'm glad you guys can keep promises to each other. That must be nice." I snapped sharply. I shoved out of the chair and stormed out. I heard her start to say something but I didn't care to listen. How dare her? Both of them. As I was walking out my anger turned into frustration, then sadness. Before I realized it I was sobbing, jogging down the street. Wanting to run from everything. But my heart pulled me.. more like tried to drag me to wherever she could be.