backinthsaddle | Chapter One: The Meeting

Chapter One: The Meeting

Homework, the bane of nearly every student's existence.

Cole's sitting on the couch, surrounded by a modest stack of textbooks, a notebook balanced on his thigh as he takes notes. He's deeply involved in his studies, and has been ever since he got home from class an hour ago. It gives him something to do when he's not out running, or at track practice, although he's still not so sure about his major. But then, what guy his age is? It's not like he's had a long time to focus on what he wants to do as a career.

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Cole is going to interrogate his brother for details later, uncomfortable with asking in front of her. "Do you, uh, want anything to eat? Or drink?" he asks, feeling awkward about it.

"I, um. I don't want to bother you, I'll be okay." But she does look faint, and she hasn't been being fed, and she sits down right where she is on the floor because she's dizzy and she doesn't want to fall.

"I'll get you a sandwich." It's about all he knows how to make, or at least has the stuff to make on hand and has the least chances to go wrong, plus tiny prep time.

He shoots a pleading look at his brother to help him out a bit here. Not in the making of food, but handling their unexpected houseguest.

She wipes at her eyes with the heel of her palm. "He's just gonna get me again anyway."

"No, he won't. Never again." He crouches down next to her, keeping his distance.

"This is the third time," she murmurs, and her voice cracks, and her eyes well up fresh.

Liam's jaw clenches in that I-am-going-to-break-some-legs look that he gets every so often and trades glances with his brother.

Cole has no idea what she's talking about, and he's not sure he wants to know. He's putting together a sandwich as quickly as possible, just tossing on whatever they have, never mind what she might like or dislike. Meat, cheese, bread. And puts on the kettle for tea, thinking it might help calm her down.

In the meantime, Liam helps her to the couch. Her knees are shaky like a newborn colt with epilepsy.

He throws the sandwich on a plate and approaches, awkward, cautiously. "Here."

"Thank you. I'm sorry. Ah, I'm sorry. Sorry." She doesn't even know what she's sorry for at this point. She digs into the food like she hasn't eaten in days, which isn't really far off. She gulps down the sandwich way too fast, and it makes her throat hurt, and her chest hurt, and her stomach hurt, but it's maybe the best sandwich ever.

"I'm, um, also making tea." It seems like a stupid way to say it, but he honestly doesn't know what to do next, while he waits for the water to boil.

"T-thanks. 'S perfect. The best. Really, really good food. Thank you."

Her knees are back up to her chest, and whenever she looks at Cole or Liam it's a fleeting look and heaven forbid eye-contact happen because she looks away so fast she might give herself whiplash.

"It's just a sandwich..."

"It's a really good sandwich."

Cole looks helplessly at his brother, not wanting to argue otherwise.

Liam pulls him aside as Victor digests, already getting some more color to her face.

"I don't think he fed her," he says, voice low so Victor won't overhear. "I'm going to have her stay here for a while."

He thinks briefly about how they don't have the room, where will she sleep, surely they should find someone who knows and can take care of her. But he knows they can't just boot her out either, and wouldn't even consider that. "How long did he have her?"

"A week and a half. I think. I don't know the whole story."

On the couch, Victor is rubbing at the side of her face, at the site of that past-broken jaw. She covers up a yawn.

The kettle's starting to whistle, and Cole moves on automatic to make the tea. "How'd you find out about this?"

"The guy asked me if I knew any healers, and I recommended Eddie." Liam doesn't hang in a very nice crowd, but it's one thing to know it, and it's another thing to know it.

Cole has never approved of his brother's friends, but there's not much he can do about it, even if he wasn't the younger of them. So he just focuses on the part where Liam decided to rescue her. "Should we tell anyone? Try to find her family?"

"I think we need to let her call the shots on this one."

Victor, for her part, is dozing, curled up on her side on the couch, taking up the smallest amount of space possible.

"Fine."

Well, now he's got a cup of tea all made and he's not sure if he should just let her sleep or give her the tea anyway. He settles for putting it down on the coffee table - or, more accurately, on the smallest pile of textbooks on top of it. Well within reach, and he can't help but feel like he's putting out food for an abused dog to try to lure it in.

That metaphor is not far off. She's a wreck. Smudgey dark circles under her eyes, cracked lips, hipbones jutting out, and who knows what would have happened to her if Liam didn't come along.

"...the tea's done." He doesn't want to bother her, especially if she hasn't been resting, so he says it quiet-like.

She breathes in sharply as she wakes (abruptly, she's a light sleeper), sits up. "Oh. Oh, thank you."

"You're welcome." He hasn't put any sugar in it, it hasn't really occurred to him that it's an option she might want at the moment.

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