Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

i. Prologue

When Eddie wakes up, she cannot move her neck. Not at first. It's like she’s floating, and then the life rushes back into her and she feels sick. Her muscles are sore and stiff and her whole body is wet with sweat. It’s hot in this car.

The light is too bright. A wide open highway stretches forward like an eager cat beneath the wheels of Annie’s battered sedan. Eddie tries to speak, can’t, clears her throat. Annie watches her struggle.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re just takin’ a trip.”

The memories don’t come back easy. There was music, she can’t remember what. She sort of remembers getting ready to go out. She didn’t want to eat anything. She just wanted to go to sleep. She was dreaming about something, flashing lights and a beat she could feel in her bones. It had no rhythm, though. It was uneven and scary. People were there, and then they weren’t, and then they were too close to her and she was trapped and the walls were moving. “You drugged me.”

Annie keeps her eyes to the road, blinders up. It’s easier to keep the façade if she doesn’t have to look at Eddie’s limp figure in her passenger seat. “Don’t worry about it.”

Eddie gapes, trying to readjust herself where she sits, as if better posture might give her some leverage in the conversation. “That shit has side effects! I could get like, addicted or something.” This is a useless observation. In fact, it might only spur Annie on―she’s always liked the idea of Eddie being completely dependent on her.

“You can deal with a headache. We’ll be there soon enough.”

Eddie wants to keep arguing, wants to tell her that this time has to be the last time. She can’t gauge where Annie’s head is at. She shouldn’t mess around right now. It’s easy to just tuck her legs up and lean over the console. Swallow the bile in her throat and try to go back to sleep.

She doesn’t really find sleep, though. Her breathing is rigid, like her lungs won’t expand enough. Her body hurts more with every jolt on the road. The backs of her eyelids are no escape from the sunlight. She tries to cover her eyes with her hands, but even her own touch is too warm, and she quickly readjusts herself.

By the time Eddie opens her eyes again, the sun is higher in the sky and there are way more cars on the road. She feels even worse. Her mouth is dry and her clothes are damp. The car is getting hotter. Annie’s hair is losing its careful part, flattening in dark whorls around her forehead. She smells of sweat and peppermint, comforting and familiar.

“It’s too hot in here, Ann. Can I please open a window?” Eddie tries not to whine. She’s just so, so tired. Her head hurts bad.

“No.”

Eddie really doesn’t want to know why not. Everything is too hot, stifling, so many layers. It’s making her sweat. It’s making her itchy. She takes her shirt off. She’s surprised to see that she’s not wearing a bra―she doesn’t remember taking it off.

When Annie notices, she almost swerves. “Put your shirt back on, Christ!”

“I bet you didn't have a problem taking it off last night!”

Annie flinches. “I didn’t rape you!” Then, quieter: “I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

“Yes, and I’ll be more comfortable with less clothes in this goddamn car.” Eddie tucks her head down fast, but then remembers that Annie can’t really hit her while they’re still on the road.

Annie glances back and forth, eyes settling on nothing. She’s probably reminding herself the same thing. “People can see you.”

Eddie is curled almost horizontally in her seat, certainly below window level. People probably can’t see her. It still makes Annie nervous, though. As far as the cops are concerned, she’s a scowling, man-imitating dyke who drugged and kidnapped her lady friend and is headed in the opposite direction of anywhere she can be recognized. They might be right this time. She can’t afford to get caught.

“Just―your stuff is in the back. Put somethin’ on.”

“Let me open a window.”

“I said no.”

Eddie considers the next course of action. The best way to diffuse the situation would be to shut up and put on a clean shirt. Annie has clearly made up her mind about the rules today and any needling is going to make the consequences worse. Still, Eddie is hungover from who knows what and probably won’t enjoy whatever Annie has in store; she may as well push her around and see what happens. She thinks a tiny part of herself likes all the attention she gets when Annie really is mad. She doesn’t know anyone else who would set aside their own plans just to spend time with her. “Why not?”

“Do I need to pull over?” Annie asks. It’s less threatening and more like she’s some teacher trying to get Eddie to cool down in the hallway.

Eddie shakes her head. She can be a star student.

Annie’s hands flex on the steering wheel. “I’m just sayin’. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

Eddie laughs. “Ooh, that was kinda edgy. I’m scared.”

Annie says nothing at first. Then she says nothing at all. Damn. Eddie definitely fucked up. She should readjust again, stop being so vulnerable, but Annie has a point. She’d rather not be caught shirtless by unsuspecting passerby.

Annie takes an exit soon afterwards, veering towards a narrow, heavily forested road. They pass under the sign before Eddie gets a chance to look at it. The asphalt soon turns to gravel and the gravel to dirt. Annie slides beneath a lone tree in a clearing.

She unlocks the doors, making a show of walking all the way around the car, opening a door to the back seat, and throwing a shirt up at Eddie. Eddie scrambles to put it on. Always a gentleman, Annie gets the passenger door, pulling Eddie out by the elbow and sending her stumbling.

“Get down,” Annie says, pointing at the ground. Eddie drops to her knees so fast she feels dizzy. Annie stands close in front of her, grabs her jaw and tilts it upwards. A thumb digs into her cheek, and Eddie’s glasses fall crooked down her nose. Annie rights them, gently, and then slaps her.

Eddie’s vision is blurry. The tingly burning on the left side of her face tells her that Annie’s feeling a twin sensation on her palm, fingertips red where they connected with wire frames. Eddie stares at the ground, mouth open. An old shame rises within her but she pushes it away.

“I’m not gonna keep correcting you.”

Eddie laughs, eyes watering. “You think I care?”

Annie hits her again, other side. It hurts so good. Eddie deserves this. Her glasses are on the ground. She’s a stupid fucking perverted homosexual waste of a human being. She’ll never be more than this. “Stop fucking with me,” Annie snarls.

“Can’t help it.”

Annie steps forward, kicking Eddie’s legs apart, until her knees brush Eddie’s chest. The subtext is all there. You aren’t worth my time. You’re such a problem. You never know how to shut up and play along. “Why are you like this?”

The answer’s right there. There’s no hiding it now. “Because of you.”

Annie crouches low, meeting her wide eyes. This time she rubs both thumbs over Eddie’s reddened jaw, back and forth, until she relaxes like an injured deer in Annie’s care. Her teeth flash shock-white as she pulls Eddie’s face inches from her own. 

“I hope you know just how much I love you. There are so many things I could do to you, because you’re easy. But I don’t. Tell me―if I left you here right now, would you crawl out to the highway to ask for help? Or would you just wait for me to come back?”

Eddie isn’t sure what the right answer is here. It feels like a trap. It feels like maybe she would wait for Annie to come back.

“I don’t want you thinkin’ you can say whatever you want. You do what I say because you love me back. There’s no one else in this wretched world to look out for us, baby. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

Eddie flinches as the first warm tears slip oily down her sensitive skin. Her lip quivers violently and she bites it, hard. Annie stands up, pushing her into the dirt. Her voice is cold when she says “I’ll be waitin’ in the car until you’re ready.”

The side of Eddie’s glasses are all bent out of shape. When did that happen? Fucking wire frames.

Chapter Text

1. Lucky You

“Thank the nice man, Ed.”

Eddie ducks her head. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Annie instructs through gritted teeth. “We’re not up north anymore.”

“Then where the hell are we?” Eddie whispers back, glancing down at Annie before resuming her most polite smile.

“Don’t speak to me like that in front of company,” Annie says, maintaining her own ‘nothing’s wrong here’ smile the entire time.

The cashier, a teenager  with crooked teeth and a thousand yard stare, doesn’t bat an eye. Weak fans buzz away all around the little convenience store, pushing his bangs into his eyes. He doesn’t move to right them.

“Thank you, sir,” Eddie says.

The kid nods back, not making eye contact. “Yerwelcome.” Is he on something?

Annie pulls Eddie away from the counter before she can ask any questions. Through the little aisles, retracing their steps. Eddie makes sure to avoid all of the cracks in the tiled floor. She only steps on the red squares. It’s a good rhythm, left and right. Not thinking, she forgets to watch out for the substandard doorframe and hits her head on the way out. “Fuck.”

Annie, who is just about five feet flat and has never once experienced a beam shaped welt on her forehead, rolls her eyes. “Just get in the fuckin’ car.”

Eddie’s been trying to figure out what’s making Annie so impatient this morning. They’ve been on the road for about three days by now and today’s seen the worst of her disgruntled attitude. She won’t tell Eddie what state they’re in or where they’re going; she won’t let her listen to the radio; she didn’t even get the door for her when they entered the store, which never happens.

Annie does open the passenger door for Eddie, but she doesn’t close it. She marches around the front of her shitty sedan and throws herself into the driver’s side hard enough to shake the frame of the car. Annie may be a small woman, but she’s all muscle, and she’s not one to pull her punches. “I got you something,” she says, digging around in the pocket of her leather jacket. It’s way hotter here than back in Philly, and Eddie’s not surprised when Annie strips down to her undershirt. She doesn’t mind the view, either.

Annie hands her an ice cream bar. It’s melting.

“I’m good. Thanks, though. You can have it.”

“C’mon, don’t be afraid of ice cream.” She sets it on the dashboard. If Eddie doesn’t grab it quick, it’s going to leave a sticky puddle in its wake. “You could stand to lose some weight anyways. This ain’t gonna hurt anything.”

Eddie crosses her arms. Now she really doesn’t want to eat it. (Well, she does, but she isn’t going to. To make a point.) “I didn’t see it at the checkout.”

“They wanted a dollar for it. I’m not made of money.”

When Eddie first met Annie, she could’ve sworn the stealing was not an apparent issue. If it was, she would have ended everything right then and there. Probably.

Annie mostly sticks to the small stuff, pomade or mints; but Eddie did start noticing things around their little apartment that weren’t there before. The nicer shampoo. A new coffee machine. Leather conditioner. Certainly out of the budget for two unemployed students.

And that’s the other thing—Annie can’t seem to get a job. She’s not the handiest dyke on the scene, but she sure knows how to get things done. Nothing gets in her way once a plan is formed, even if the rejections are endless. Most places don’t bother to call back. 

Annie’s motivated in a way Eddie’s never been. Annie clawed her way up from nothing. She buzzed her hair and fled. She worked for what she has. Except for the stealing. Once she gets away with it, she just can’t help but do it again.

“Do you want it or not, Ed?”

Eddie picks up the ice cream bar and begins to peel the wrapper. “Thanks for thinking of me.” Annie reaches across the console to put a hand on Eddie’s inner thigh as she backs out of the parking lot. So that was the right answer.

“We’re almost there, baby.” This is a lie, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

Annie gets them off the highway, taking them down a busy road. Safety in numbers, at least. It looks like it’s going towards the city. Which city, however, Eddie can’t be sure. She hasn’t traveled much outside of her familiar train routes and the places she could walk to around campus. She certainly was not prepared for another of Annie’s…adventures.

Bright lights and colors from businesses, people, apartments flash past. It’s a combination of historic, run-down, and shiny brand new that makes her feel like everyone is decorated for a holiday she’s never heard of.

Annie looks pretty close to cursing out the drivers around them. Horns are blaring and the traffic is slow, but she’s a tactical driver when she needs to be. They’re past the worst of the holdup before Eddie even realizes it. The land has more breathing room; yards get bigger and houses get farther apart, the school buildings look newer, and just like that the urban landscape is behind them. That’s not good.

Annie parks in front of a tiny church building. According to the bulletin sign, IT COULD HAPPEN AT ANY TIME. 

She fiddles with the key impatiently before getting out of the car and starting off down the sidewalk. “Let’s go, Ed.”

Eddie follows like she always does. The houses here are old, but in the pretty way. Classic paint jobs and decorated yards. It reminds her of some of the counties back home, places she dreamed of living in if she could ever escape the city. People bustle in and out of cafes and novelty book stores, a tucked away place with vintage gowns in the window, restaurants with outdoor seating; even a town history museum. Eddie smiles at a young woman and her beribboned daughter. She stares at the dresses when she gets close enough. Guys nod at her as they pass. Annie keeps walking.

The aggressive rumble of engines douses the happy crowd in a low panic. People walking on the cobblestone step behind parked cars to clear the road; the mother pulls her daughter to the side. Eddie relaxes when she sees the bikers speeding towards them. They aren’t here to stick around, and soon the moment will pass.

The bikers don’t pass Main Street. They leave their bikes anywhere they can find room. They take off their helmets. And then they begin to disperse.

Not all of them seem unkind, they just take up so much space. Some of them have more tattoos than bare skin. Eddie’s a little afraid to stare, but she can’t help it. She’s never seen a real tattoo before. “Why do their jackets say ‘Doubleheads’?” she whispers.

Annie gives her a look. “It’s their name.” Obviously, dumbass. Eddie will keep her mouth closed next time.

One of the guys pulls up right next to where they’re standing on the curb. Nervous, Eddie grabs for Annie’s hand. Annie shrugs her away forcefully. “You tryin’ to get us in trouble?”

She shakes her head. Of course not. Annie busies herself by keeping Eddie out of earshot while she talks to the young man with the greasy hair. Annie doesn’t have a bike to Eddie’s knowledge, but she sure dresses just like the guys that ride them. She could blend right in. She could hop right on and leave Eddie behind.

“Ann?”

Annie averts an evil eye in Eddie’s direction. “I’m busy, Ed.”

“Yeah, but—“ her words fall away. Annie and the man ignore her completely, continuing to speak in their hushed tones and abstract gestures.

Eventually the conversation ends and Eddie’s trying not to lose Annie in the crowd, trying desperately to keep the pace without tripping over the trolley tracks that line the crumbling streets. The biker guy leads them up the hill, quick and dark haired. He’s gone in a flash and then he reappears. Annie hasn’t checked behind her even once to make sure Eddie’s still there. 

They might as well be living a crime drama. The biker guy leads them to a narrow, dark alley in between two buildings. Eddie has to turn sideways just to walk through. He unlocks an unmarked door that looks more like an unsanded board than anything functional. It doesn’t even open all the way before it hits the building on the other side.

“Ask for Lisa,” he says, before holding his wrist up to Annie. As far as Eddie can tell, it looks like they’re comparing watches maybe? And then he walks off.

The door opens directly into a stairwell. Annie, in all her gracious chivalry, pushes Eddie inside first. The nearest landing has two doors and another flight; Annie directs her up the next set of stairs with a firm shove.

“Where are we going?”

Annie shifts her weight, hands on her hips. “Last door down the hall. Tell her you’re Lisa.”

“But the guy said—”

“No arguing. Do you want a bed tonight or not?”

Having lost, Eddie sighs and begins her descent. She stops halfway and turns around when she realizes Annie isn’t coming with her.

Annie’s arms are crossed firmly; she’s going to stand her ground. “Be polite,” is all she says. Eddie looks back one more time and Annie is gone.

Approaching the door, she relaxes her shoulders. Be polite. She can do that. She raps the door knocker three times.

The response is immediate. The lady who answers the door kinda looks like a girl Eddie went to high school with. This makes her laugh nervously. Then she remembers the script. “Hi, I’m—”

“Yeah, real funny, Kim. Where were you an hour ago?”

“I didn’t—”

“Look, here are the keys, I’ll be back on Monday, feed the cat twice a day.”

Eddie takes the keys, drops them, picks them back up, and salutes her goodbye. How did that happen? Who salutes people casually?

“You’re so cute when you’re stupid,” the lady says, grabbing Eddie’s shirt and kissing her full on the mouth. Ew ew ew. “Tell Jim I said hi.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie agrees, fighting the instinct to wipe her mouth.

Of course, Annie reappears as soon as the stranger chick is out of sight. Apparently while Eddie was holding the door open dumbstruck, the cat got out. Annie picks it up on her way in.

“She said to feed it twice a day until Monday.”

Annie sets the unfortunate creature down and laughs. “We’re out of here tomorrow. It’ll have to live.”

Oh, thank God. This isn’t the kind of place Eddie would want to stay in for a week. The bed reaches wall to wall, and when Annie shuts the door behind them there’s barely enough room to stand comfortably. There’s no windows, just a single lightbulb. It’s safe to assume the sheets haven’t been washed. She does not see a litterbox.

The cat keeps gently butting its head on Eddie’s shin and winding its tail around her calves. Cats tend to dissolve her worries embarrassingly fast; this one is no different. It’s so soft and fluffy, maybe the cleanest thing in this place. She has to pick it up.

Annie looks at her funny, but Eddie doesn’t care. She spends a long time standing in silence and just holding it close to her chest. It purrs, batting at her hair and climbing onto her shoulder. She can feel its muscles stretching beneath its fur, delicate bones and the slight prick of claws. It’s so warm, it breathes so steady.

“Didn’t know you were an animal lover,” Annie says, leaning against the wall and watching Eddie rocking the cat in her arms and talking to it like a small, furry child.

“I mean. Look at him.” Eddie brings him closer, and Annie starts scratching him between the ears with just the pads of her fingers. He rubs his cheek against the heel of her palm. It almost looks like he’s smiling. “Did you wanna hold him?”

“Sure.” Annie shrugs, but Eddie can see the Christmas morning excitement on her face when he climbs into the crook of her elbow and starts playing with the fabric of her shirt.

Eddie may have to consider getting a cat for their apartment. With Annie and a cat at arms length, she’ll be unstoppable. She can already picture it; this is something they can do together. Annie won’t get bored and let her hands wander while they’re watching TV if the cat is sitting on Eddie’s lap; she’ll have to wake up at a reasonable time in the morning because the cat needs to be fed before classes start; she’s can’t argue with Eddie if a cat is conveniently placed in her arms. Adoration overload. It’s the perfect plan.

“Should I be nervous or something?” Annie asks.

“Huh?”

She shifts the cat to the other shoulder. “Your eyes went all dark for a second.”

“Oh. Sorry. I think we should adopt a cat.”

Annie holds the cat up under its armpits, legs dangling. “Y’know, I had one growing up. Always bringin’ us dead birds and shit.”

Eddie grins. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s an ‘I’ll think about it’.”

Sometimes an ‘I’ll think about it’ is as good as it gets. It’s hopeful, even in the dim lighting of a stranger’s bed-closet. Eddie and Annie could stand to work on a few things when it comes to their relationship, and signs could come in any form. A cat just might be the next step forward.

“Let me take you out,” Annie says, sitting on the bed with the dirty sheets and cradling the cat in her lap.

“You know a place?”

Annie knows a lot of places. Even years later, she hasn’t forgotten them at all. They’re not exactly to Eddie’s taste; the kind of bars you don’t wanna take a girl to, what with all the drinking and betting and frankly, groping. Ed’s not really one for the races. 

Still, this is Annie’s second chance. “I’ll find somewhere.”

She settles on a little family joint. The owners are friends of Annie’s parents, but they probably wouldn’t recognize Annie now. To their credit, Annie barely recognizes their son when he greets them at the front. She knew him from middle school maybe, before they pulled him out and sent him to public. Bless their hearts, or whatever her mom always said. These people are dirt poor and it shows.

To be fair, Annie doesn’t have a real job yet, either, but at least she’s not stuck in a family-made hellhole. She’s going to turn things around when they get to the farm. This is a new chapter for her, and she’s gonna start by getting Eddie in a well enough mood. Shit’s gonna start to change. They should be celebrating.

After dinner, when the sun is down and the streets are bare, Annie does take her hand. Eddie glances down at her, unsure. Annie nods. No one’s gonna bother them at this hour. There’s a place Annie’s always wanted to take someone, and a foolish part of herself wants to see if it’s still there. She figures she owes it to teenage Annie, anyways.

A few blocks and a lone streetlight confirms it: everything is exactly as she left it. The creaking of the steps is louder than she remembers, and the railing has rusted, but that doesn’t stop her. She grips Eddie’s hand tight as they climb the dilapidated fire escape, the metal skeleton that’s still standing despite the cycle of tenants and businesses and anything else that ran past the other side of the brick wall over the years. Annie gives Eddie a leg up and they’re both on the roof.

“So…you’ve been here before?” Eddie asks, when the silence and the stars are too great between them.

Annie smiles; she’s been found out. “Yeah. Last time I was up here, I was schemin’ about how to kiss Donna Peterson under the stars.”

Eddie puts a hand on Annie’s knee. She’s heard a lot about Donna Peterson, as far as gradeschool crushes go. “You could, uh. Kiss me under the stars.”

“You might be onto something,” Annie murmurs, closing the distance. Eddie’s so nice when she behaves. They haven’t kissed this gentle since forever. Annie brought Eddie along for a reason; she’s a special one. Eddie deserves gentle, she deserves to have the door held and her dinner paid for and the stars above her, at her whim. Annie just loses sight of that sometimes. Everyone’s got a breaking point.

Annie’s hands migrate to Eddie’s hips. There’s too much fabric between them. Annie just wants to see Eddie laid out in her bed again. Ed’s been so tense since they left, there’s been no time to get comfortable around each other.

“Ain’t it cool how you can see the stars?”

Eddie rests her hand over Annie’s. “That’s cheesy.”

Annie kisses her again, inhaling through her nose and letting Eddie catch her breath. “You like it.”

“I do.”

“Y’know, light pollution’s a serious issue,” Annie says, smiling like the crescent moon.

“Oh, of course,” Eddie laughs, feeling like her heart is full. She drifts even closer, the zipper of her jacket dragging up against Annie’s tee shirt. It’s quiet up here in the good kind of way. She’s never been on a roof before. Life can be so beautiful, and if someone above decided Annie would be the one to show it to her, Eddie’s not complaining.

“Today was good, huh?”

Eddie nods. Annie loves her and everything else is just noise.

The walk back is the easiest thing Eddie’s done all day. The streetlights glow gently and Annie’s in no rush. Eddie almost trips over a pile of broken glass on the sidewalk. She looks up briefly and sees her own reflection in a darkened shop window, stupid doe eyes caught in the headlights of her own making.

The tag on her collar prickles the back of neck and she reaches up to adjust it. This can’t be happening. She is walking in a quaint town and she is holding hands with the only love she’s known so far and she…

And she’s bored. She doesn’t want this. It’s not right. She doesn’t see herself doing this in ten years. She can’t love someone blindly, can’t give gooey promises when they make her skin crawl. She needs love to be proven to her, over and over.

Her hand falls from Annie’s grasp and it’s happening again, the counting. She can’t step on the sidewalk cracks. Her thumb strikes her fingertips left and right, one two three four one two three one two one. Other side. Four three two one three two one two—

“You alright, Ed?”

Damn it. She lost count. Better start over. She pulls the waist band of her shorts lower. Hands in her pockets, but that’s too awkward. Annie grabs her hand again and squeezes. They’re leaving tomorrow. It’ll be fine.

It takes thirteen steps to get through the alleyway, which is not good. She’s off balance going up the stairs, which she doesn’t bother counting because thirteen is an unlucky number and nothing on either side is going to reverse it.

She doesn’t feel any better in the morning, not even when Annie digs through the owner lady’s cabinets and starts slicing fruit to bring with them. Then something occurs to Eddie. 

If Annie is at the foot of the bed preparing for their departure, then the sleeping warm thing Eddie is hugging is not Annie. She opens her eyes and actually looks. It’s that cat. She reaches to turn the lightbulb on and starts to lace her shoes. The cat follows her every move, demanding attention.

“Ready to go?” Annie says, sliding everything into a glass container that definitely was not hers to begin with.

The cat jumps into Eddie’s lap, spreading its limbs and rolling so she can’t get up. “We can’t just let it starve for a week.”

Annie grabs a bag of cat food from the pantry and starts measuring it into bowls. “You can leave out a week’s worth of food and cats know when to eat it.”

“No way.”

Annie nods, laughing. “Yes way. He’ll do just fine on his own.”

The cat doesn’t actually have a collar or anything. They don’t know if it’s a boy or girl, what its name is. Eddie looks at it and then she looks at Annie, standing in the doorway. “You’re sure we can’t just…?”

“Can’t what?”

Eddie holds the cat closer. “You know.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Annie says, using the wall to write something hurriedly on a piece of paper.

“That’s not a no.”

Annie starts folding the paper carefully, not sparing a sideways glance. Eddie’s starting to feel like the cat in this situation.

“Just take the damn thing,” Annie says. “Can’t promise it’ll want to stay, though.”

Victory. Eddie scoops up the cat and puts it on her shoulder like a baby. Annie closes the door behind them and pushes the folded paper halfway under the door.

“What’s that?”

“It’s her keys, I wrapped ‘em up. Not like she has anything worth taking,” Annie smirks.

It’s only the morning, but the streets are buzzing already. All of the motorcycles from yesterday are gone, and awkward gaps stretch between parked cars along the main road. Annie’s car is waiting for them in front of the little church, whose sign has changed—DON’T BE THE ONLY ONE.

Annie and Eddie and the cat climb into the front seat and leave the town in the dust. Eddie can breathe again. Change is happening. It might not be good for her, but time is moving no matter what.

“What should we name it?”

“I dunno, it’s your cat.”

“It’s our cat.”

Annie makes an exaggerated thinking face. “Sugarmaple. Eddie II. Mittens. Kitty—“

“It needs to be something good,” Eddie insists.

“You stole him. That’s like coming up with a name for your bastard child.”

Eddie scoffs affectionately. It’s nothing like that. Her and this cat were meant to be together. She’ll find the right name eventually.

From the looks of everything, they’re set for another long day of driving. Eddie forgets how many days it’s been, but they must be pretty far from Pennsylvania by now; she lost track of the route after they left I-70 and Annie hasn’t used a single map the entire time.

Annie doesn’t suggest stopping anywhere and Eddie doesn’t ask for it, but at some point in the afternoon she offers up the fruit that she found. Sliced apples, oranges, a few different types of berries. Annie claims she cut everything so that it would fit in the container, but Eddie knows how much she likes to prepare food. They eat the strawberries first, glimmering in the sunlight and dripping red on Eddie’s clothing. 

Unrefrigerated fruit is a weird thing to leave behind when you’re going on vacation, but maybe that lady from the apartment meant it as a thank you gift. Eddie hopes she won’t be too worried when she realizes the cat is gone as well.

Feeling embarrassed, she hugs the cat tighter and looks through her bag for something to do. Annie tends to get frustrated when she has to drive all day, so Eddie’s getting ready to stay quiet and suppress her questions. She hones in on the Sudoku book Annie packed for her which, compared to every other aspect of this unplanned nightmare trip, was a nice touch.

Eddie always writes in pen even though she ends up scratching over her mistakes. The puzzle she opens to shouldn’t be that hard, but her mind is curiously blank. The numbers blur a little.

They’ve reached the point of no civilization. Everything is grass, haybales, windmills, water towers. But no humans. She stares out the driver’s side window, watching the vast fields of cows and sheep and horses. The closest she’s seen to a real farm animal is maybe a big dog.

“You want somethin’?”

“I’m just looking around,” Eddie defends.

“Yeah, I thought so. Don’t worry, their house is comin’ up.”

“‘Their’?”

“Curiosity killed the cat, girl. Try to get some rest.”

Eddie tries her best. Her head still aches and she could really use a shower. She wonders vaguely about the time but decides not to think too hard, not if she doesn’t have to.

The sky has just begun to melt as Annie reaches for her gun. Eddie doesn’t notice at first; she’s busy staring at candy clouds, fluffy and backlit by the fading sky. She’s observing her own reflection in the car window turned glassy pink and orange with the sunset.

She’s feeling a little loopy and she’s not sure why. She slept as well as she could; the car is ventilated enough, kind of; she even ate one whole meal today. She wants to go to sleep again, for real, in a real bed, at home. She had built the little bed back at the flat into a sort of nest, and she prided herself on the fact that she and Annie could just fall into it at the end of the day. She misses it dearly.

Right now she’s chosen to delay her anxiety, mind reduced to ‘sky pretty’ and ‘wow, more cow fields’. The mesh fences have turned to barbed wire. She can worry about shit later. If it’s going to happen to her anyways, she might as well not even think about it. She might as well just sit and take it. That’s what Annie wants, and Eddie wants what Annie wants. Eddie is what Annie wants.

The gun barely fazes her. She waits so long to ask about it that Annie decides to jump in with an explanation unprompted. “It’s not too safe in these parts.”

Whatever you say, cowboy. Eddie nods listlessly. “Okay.”

“Don’t ever leave the car if I can’t see you.”

“Uh huh.”

“Ed. Are you listening to me.”

Sometimes Annie can be so impatient. She’s a child stamping her foot. Eddie’s too out of it to really argue, though. Her eyes are on the sky. This conversation isn’t about her. “Yeah! Obviously.”

The car brakes with a jolt as they pull up to a small house. It looks pretty new, the style maybe less than a decade old, and yet there’s something about it that says it’s seen some things. This land wants to reclaim its stolen footprint. It’s cupped by the edge of a dense wood, and the large metal gate looks like it’s barely holding onto its hinges. Another, smaller building sits in the distance, but it’s getting too dark to see.

Annie grabs her bag from the back, clips her keys to her belt, and gets out of the car. The gun is still in hand. Eddie unbuckles her seatbelt too, cat in her arms, but she’s hesitant to make a wrong move.

“C’mon. They’re waiting.”

The porch is rickety and Eddie’s pretty sure she’s gotten a splinter just from touching the railing by accident. It’ll all be fine, though. She’s not going to judge it just from the outside; there’s still hope. Things are looking pretty bad, but she’s learned that lesson before. Like Annie—she seemed so angry all the time when they first met, but it turns out she just wanted to take Eddie on a date. And look where they are now.

Annie tries the door. It doesn’t budge. “That fucker,” she mutters, pushing at it with her shoulder. No luck. She knocks loudly. Eddie tries to look inside. Warm light peeks through, but the curtains are drawn tight. A dog starts barking maniacally, and Eddie hears it scratching up the door, the walls. She holds the cat closer to her chest and it nuzzles into her shoulder, indifferent to the noise.

Annie switches to rapping on the windows, but she gives up pretty soon. “Wait here, baby,” she says, before slinking around the side of the house.

Annie’s a little pissed already. She called this morning to let them know her and Eddie were coming. Her friends aren’t good for much in life, but she knows they were taught how to be good hosts.

And if not—well, she has some idea as to how they can be prompted. Annie wasn’t lying when she said this area is dangerous; all sorts of shit live in these woods. But she also suspected she might have to use the gun for unconventional purposes. Everything just falls into place when it’s by her side.

Never let it be said that Neil Kowalski is a stupid man. He’s just…well, he’s pretty stupid. And he pastures his horses without a double fence.

She surveys her options. The horses, seeing her, have come right up to the gate. They really are such naive creatures. Neil’s been wanting one since he was a little girl. Any noise they make is sure to get his attention. Taking a steady look straight into the horses’ huge black eyes, Annie aims and shoots.

Eddie’s really been trying to suppress her nerves so far, just waiting in the dim porch light and hoping Annie knows what she’s doing. The sound of the shot, like ice cracking, really takes her off guard. It’s just fireworks, it’s only been a month since the 4th of July, people here are more patriotic. But the screams say otherwise. Inhuman screeching. Pigs, maybe? Do animals even make that noise?

More barking. A man’s voice. “I’ll fuckin’ shoot you dead!”

So, definitely not fireworks.

Then Annie. “And I’ll meet you in hell!”

Eddie’s shaking so bad now that she can’t stop. She keeps holding her breath, just by accident. Why is she reacting this way? Annie’s got everything figured out. It’ll be fine. Her body just won’t listen. Maybe she should go over there and see if Annie’s okay. But it’s so dark out. It’s not too safe in these parts.

“Well, aren’t you handsome.”

That voice isn’t far away at all. Sure and smooth, delivered with a smile. Eddie turns around slowly. Warm light spills onto the porch. It’s hot outside, night still cooling from the heat of the day, but Eddie’s skin breaks into goosebumps.

The woman in the doorway takes a step out. “You’re the girl Annie tells me about?”

Eddie swallows, nods. Annie was talking about her?

“Name’s Jane. Come in.”

Jane. Eddie can’t believe what she’s seeing. Jane can’t be too much taller than Annie, and just as well-built. A cow crawls down her bicep, fleeing from something. It has two heads. Jane’s hair is damp and it falls around her ears, overgrown in the back. Golden blond. Mouth slightly parted. Gunshots forgotten, Eddie’s heart rate kicks into high gear. Jane.

“Come inside, Eddie. We ain’t too scary.”

“You know my name?”

“I know a lot of things about you, Ed.” She steps out of the way to let Eddie through, and Eddie walks right in without a second thought. She’s a good listener; the walls are already going up. This whole day she’s been worrying about where she was gonna sleep and how long it would be until she got to go home, but those seem terribly unimportant right now. She hadn’t expected Annie’s friends to be hot.

The back door of the house is pushed open and Annie comes in, leading someone by the shirtsleeve. The panic sets in. The screaming from outside. She seems to be struggling, pulling this guy behind her and into the living room with her pistol in the other hand. But when she turns to face them, her grin’s wide as a hyena. “Jane!”

“Annie!”

Annie lets go of the man she was holding and crosses the living room to wrap Jane in a bear hug. Their resemblance is truly uncanny, from the way they walk to the cut of their jeans. Annie gets Jane in a headlock, rubbing at her hair until it sticks up in all different directions.

“You finally get rid of those ugly beasts?” Jane laughs, composing herself.

“Nah,” says the man, grinning and nodding at Annie. He keeps stumbling, trying to stand straight and catching himself just before he trips. “She was just puttin’ a few holes in my barn.”

“Only way to get his attention,” Annie agrees. She sets the gun on the coffee table. “Why’d y’all lock the door on us?”

Jane shrugs. “Wasn’t me.”

The man, still swaying, glances over his shoulder. It sets Eddie on edge—there’s no one else coming to join the party, right?—but he doesn’t see anything. “I mighta locked it. Sorry, Ann,” he slurs, resting his arm on her shoulder.

Annie bats him away gently. “He’s a happy drunk, ain’t he?”

“How about we join him?” Jane offers, headed for the kitchen.

“I like the sound of that.” Annie takes Eddie’s hand and walks her over to the couch. “You want anything, baby?”

Eddie shakes her head, watching the three of them with a morbid curiosity. Alcohol usually makes everything worse. She’d rather just curl up on this couch right now and sleep for a bit while Annie and her friends clap each other on the back and talk about their latest conquests.

At some point warm hands find her face and she’s being woken up again. Jane’s there, crouching by Eddie’s side like she’s a child and looking at her with those deep brown eyes. “It’s late, hon,” she says. “And we put together a real bed for y’all.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, but she has to clear her throat first and there’s drool on her cheek. Gross. The illusion is wavering. She can’t afford to be unattractive in front of someone like Jane. On the other hand, a real bed sounds heavenly.

Jane picks up Eddie’s glasses from where they fell to the floor and slides them over her ears for her; not at all unlike the way Annie does it, but perhaps with less aggression. The cat is close by, and he puts a friendly paw on Jane’s shoulder.

Eddie stands up with only a little bit of help from Jane and her strong arms. Annie’s waiting for her in the hallway that leads to the rest of the house. It’s dim, but Eddie notes four closed doors and one bathroom at the end of the hall. She zones out while Annie digs for the toothbrushes she brought from home. She touches her cheek in the mirror. Any evidence of Annie’s temper from earlier on their road trip has gone now. Nobody has to know.

The room they have has a door with a lock and a bed in the corner and a dresser beneath the window. Annie strips off her shirt and hands Eddie the bag she packed for her. There are…a lot of clothes in here. It’s pretty worrying, actually. How long are they staying? Eddie changes into something comfortable while she considers the best way to bring that up without Annie getting mad. Annie tells her that she should make sure to thank their hosts because they went to the trouble of converting their storage into a guest room just for us.

“What’s the guy’s name?” Eddie asks.

“That would be Neil. He’ll take to you soon enough, just needs time to adjust to new folks.”

Eddie’s not sure what to make of Neil. His hair’s all droopy and overgrown like one of those British guys in bands Eddie doesn’t listen to; he was clearly drunk even before her and Annie pulled up. It’s just weird, and she doesn’t trust him.

She lays back on the bed, and the cat crawls up there too, burrowing behind her pillow. Annie turns off the light before joining them.

Annie is strong and solid, and she holds Eddie every night as they fall asleep. Eddie looks forward to this every day. She leans close into Annie’s neck. Annie plucks her glasses off for her and reaches to put them away on a bookshelf near the bed. There’s one thing Eddie’s still worried about, though.

“Ann,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t kill any animals, right?”

Annie laughs. “No, baby. I wasn’t aiming for his horses.”

“Okay. Good.”

Annie presses a kiss to her lips. Eddie grimaces for a second, expecting to taste wine or beer or whatever it was they were drinking, but she’s met with only mint. She doesn’t know how Annie does it. She hugs Annie closer to her, kisses her gently in search of that lasting sweet candy cane, like maybe it’s tucked in the hollow of her cheek.

Annie indulges her for a minute before calling it quits. “Goodnight, Ed.”

“‘Night. Love you.”

Annie breathes deep and closes her eyes, a girl in her arms and a mattress beneath them and a roof over their heads. She couldn’t ask for much more, even if the morning comes too soon.

For the first time in ever, it’s Annie waking Eddie up and not the other way around. She’s all damp with sweat and the room is dark and Annie is tapping her cheek repeatedly. Now she gets why Annie’s always so grumbly in the morning. They should really invest in an alarm clock.

“Wake up. C’mon now.”

Finally Eddie stops trying to pull the blanket over her ears and swings her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m up, leave me alone. What time is it?”

Annie helps her up, laughing. “Four o’clock in the AM.”

“Nope, I’m going back to sleep.”

“Ah”—Annie grabs her wrists. Eddie freezes—“no you ain’t. You gotta get used to waking up early. Vámonos, babe.”

Eddie’s dizzy again. At least this time she knows it’s because she stood up too fast, not because of some mystery drug. She takes a few steps towards the hallway and then decides she’d rather just sit on the floor. Now’s as good a time as any to look through her bag. Annie stands over her and nudges her with her foot but gives up pretty soon afterwards. That’s what she gets for waking Eddie up at such an unholy hour. Eddie scrubs her hand over her eyes and unzips the bag.

It’s all clothes, nothing interesting. Eddie was hoping for like, a manifesto, or blueprints or something. But no. She’s just stuck here.

By the time she makes it to the bathroom sink, she’s feeling pretty accomplished. She brushes her teeth, messes up her hair a little, tries to wash her face. The tiny mirror over the sink has a huge crack down the middle of it. The water tastes weird. “Ann?”

“What?”

“Why’s the water here taste weird?”

“Hell if I know. Farm magic.”

If there’s one thing Annie should know already, it’s that Eddie hates vacations. Why go somewhere new when everything you need is right within reach? Home is where the heart is. It’s comfortable for a reason. When Eddie told Annie she thought being from the South was cool, she meant ‘your accent is kinda hot’ and ‘I feel special when you pull my chair out for me’.

Eddie’s not built for a farm. The people here talk weird and they raise animals that couldn’t fit through the front door. They do shit Eddie can’t learn in school. She’s way out of her depth, and that’s never good.

When she enters the kitchen, this truth is immediately confirmed.

“Annie, you brought us a woman and she don’t even bother makin’ breakfast?” Neil is tilting back on the legs of his chair, putting a cigarette out on the kitchen table.

Annie doesn’t give him a sideways glance, heading straight for the door. “Give her a day or two, she’ll pick it up.” She pulls a leather bag off the coat hooks by the front and undoes all three locks (a detail Eddie hadn’t noticed last night, but is not surprised to learn. There’s also a shotgun hanging over the door which she finds to be…telling). Annie gives a little wave. “I’ll see y’all later.”

And then it’s just the three of them. Eddie, Neil, and Jane. All alone in this strange little house. No neighbors for miles around.

“Eddie?” Jane says. She’s been quiet this whole time, but now she sits up like there’s a magnet in her spine.

“Yeah?”

“We just wanna get to know you, Eddie. We’ve had some ideas.”

Neil shares a knowing look with her and sets his chair down on all four legs. “Hell yeah we do.”

All Eddie wants to do is go to sleep, but she wouldn’t want her back turned around these people. “Ideas?”

“Come sit on the couch, Eddie.”

“Yeah, talk to us,” Neil says.

Eddie decides to sit in the middle of the couch. That’s her first mistake. Jane sits right up next to her and Neil takes the other side. She’s an idiot piece of almost roadkill and they are two eager turkey vultures.

“Um. Where’s Annie going?”

Jane is trying hard to suppress her grin. “Just business,” she assures. Maybe Eddie’s making things up, but she thinks she sees Neil roll his eyes. She tries to smile back but gives up halfway through. These two clearly don’t have her best interests in mind.

“You sure we can’t get you a drink, Eddie?”

“Oh, no thanks.”

“Why?” Neil says, narrowing his eyes. “You a lightweight or somethin’?”

Eddie doesn’t actually know if she’s a lightweight because she’s not a light drinker—she’s either erasing her memory or she’s not drinking at all. That’s besides the point, though: she hadn’t factored alcohol into her ‘no thanks’ because it’s four in the goddamn morning. She shrugs. “I mostly just drink coffee.”

Jane shakes her head. “We don’t buy into that city folk shit. Caffeine's addictive, y’know.”

Eddie presses her lips together. No coffee? That’s great, that’s fine, she can do that. She resists the urge to lean back into the soft cushions and just close her eyes, just for a little bit.

“Hey,” Jane murmurs. “You can relax a little. We’re nice to pretty girls like you.”

Eddie’s nice to pretty girls who don’t wake her up before dawn, but maybe that’s just her. She lets her shoulders fall nervously, unsure of where Jane intends to go. With Neil at her back like this, she feels like she’s about to get eaten alive. Cold fingers find the pulse point on her neck.

“You’re just a delicate thing, huh?” Jane says, reaching up to angle Eddie’s face to the light. Her hands are anxious, excited, but her words feel like a hug. Eddie is a little delicate. She just needs to be treated gently.

And, woah. Looking into Jane’s eyes feels like falling in love again, brand new. Making eye contact is crystal clear when Eddie’s so used to avoiding it. Jane is more than attractive, she’s the kind of person Eddie needs to be seen by; she needs to impress her no matter the cost. Even if, at the end of the day, Eddie is Annie’s, and the sky will fall before anything gets between them. And, well—Jane probably doesn’t even like her like that. Eddie’s just getting excited. Crushes are normal and fun and this will not be a problem.

“Damn, don’t scare her off,” Neil says. Right. He’s still here.

Jane sits up again, putting some space between them. Their knees are still touching. Eddie blinks a few times. “That’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Good. So next we gotta talk about the cat.”

“What?” Eddie’s wide awake now. What did they do to her cat?

Neil and Jane look at each other and start laughing. “Someone’s got a friend,” Neil says, and they both laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever. Eddie’s heart beats faster, wanting to be in on the joke and yet also wishing she was far, far away from here, just her and Annie and their bed and the cat.

“We didn’t kill your cat,” Jane says.

Neil breaks into snickering again. “Not yet.”

Jane smirks. “It was brave of you for bringin’ it here. But he’s right, it’s not exactly a place for the little guys.”

“I’m not—” Eddie takes a breath and tries again. “I’m not getting rid of him.”

“We know that, Eddie. It’s just a warning. There’s things out there that your house tabby is no match for.”

Neil grins wider. “Including the dog.”

Jane cracks up at that, laughing like Eddie isn’t having her cat-shaped heart held out in front of her and poked with sticks. “Yeah, he’d eat a cat for sure.”

Eddie doesn’t understand how people whose whole life is animals can be so cruel. She wants to know what Annie sees in them. She’s wondering where her cat is right now.

“Speak of the devil,” Jane mutters, leaning forward to scratch the dog as he bounds happily into the living room and rolls onto his back. He’s an ugly thing, bony and sleek and tall—not the kind of dog you’d wanna pet on the sidewalk. Knowing what little she does about his owners, Eddie figures they probably pulled him right off the race tracks.

After giving the dog way too much love, Jane checks the clock on the wall. It’s one of those creepy old ones with the ticking so loud you can hear it all around the house. “We oughta start the milking. Neil will show you.”

Neil’s back to staring at Eddie with suspicion in his eye. She can’t tell if he’s trying to ward her away or take her all for himself. “No I won’t.”

Him and Jane start pulling on her boots and flannels at the doorway. Jane snorts. “Yes you will.”

“It’ll take too much time,” he says, crouching down to do his laces.

“She needs to learn,” Jane shrugs, hands on her hips.

“Why can’t you teach her?”

“I’m fastest. I’ll pick up the slack.”

Neil stands up fully, pulls his collar out in one sharp motion. “I’ll fuckin’ race you, then.”

“What?”

“Ready set go.”

Eddie can’t do much but stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room as Jane and Neil (and the dog) chase each other out the door. She really did just watch them have an argument over her head and then leave her behind. They’re idiots.

The cat, still clean and fluffy, still without a name, sits on her foot and licks its front paw. They must be the only sane ones left.

Annie comes back to the house sometime between daybreak and sunset. Eddie doesn’t care to watch the time; she spends most of the day inside, hiding from the heat and resting in the spare room. Eyes wide open, she pets the cat and looks at nothing. She makes herself scarce when Jane and Neil come back from ‘the milking’ hours later, sweaty and just as loud as before.

It’s Annie who drags Eddie from the dark of the bedroom. “They got somethin’ to show us,” she says, as if that’ll make Eddie more excited for what’s in store.

Jane and Neil are already outside, trekking through the dying grass behind the house. The barn looked intimidating in the dark last night, but the closer they get, the more Eddie can tell how badly it’s rotting. Red paint peeling, bullet holes in the wall, and the smell of mold is everywhere.

Neil turns back to speak with Annie, looking the happiest he’s been since he was drunk. “I want you to meet my animals,” he says gruffly, smile behind his eyes.

There’s three horses in the paddock outside, noses buried in the overgrown grass. Their ears perk up when they hear the sound of Annie’s group approaching. Jane puts a key in the padlock around the fence. She lets the chain swing as Annie opens the gate for everybody.

“Yo, Betsy!” Neil yells. A tea colored horse, black in the shade and swirling mahogany in the sunlight, lifts her head and comes running over to the gate, tail swishing at her hindquarters. “This one’s Betsy. That’s Gamble,” he says, pointing to the white one. The third horse saunters up to him. “And this is St. Martin.”

“St. Martin?” Eddie asks. She’s just trying to be polite, but she regrets it as soon as she opens her mouth. She doesn’t want to know any more about these people than she already does.

“St. Martin-in-the-Fields, because he thinks he don’t belong in a barn,” Jane cackles. “Fuckin’ bitch.” She slaps the animal on the shoulder and he gnashes his yellow teeth at the air. Something tells Eddie there’s no saints left in this place.

Neil scratches him behind his ears. “We just call you Marty though, don’t we? You’re our bitch.”

Annie stands next to Betsy with her arms crossed, inspecting her and the other horses. “Can’t wait to see which one breaks first,” she murmurs with a crooked smile. Jane and Neil don’t seem to hear her over their own boisterous laughter, but Eddie does, and she’s not sure if Annie’s still talking about the animals.