oh mother i am so afraid /pollux blitz

I throw a rock through the window in the back door because I'm not a delicate person.

"Come on kid, what are you trying to do here?"

It's heavy enough to make a hole but not enough to shatter the pane, just fracture everything around it into little uneven chunks in a halo around where it went through. I pull my sweater sleeve down to protect my fist and push bits of glass through so that I can reach down and flick the lock.

I don't know how Victor houses work, if there's an alarm that's about to go off or whatever, but knowing as little as I did about Patricia I do know that she fucking hated Peacekeepers. There's nothing I can trigger that will bring them.

So then I'm in a dead woman's kitchen, staring into a cupboard holding a very random mug collection. I feel like the mugs people keep says a lot about them so I reach in and grab a small white one, basic except the handle is a little ceramic wrench. The silver paint is scratched up and there are grey marks on the bottom of the cup from the scraping of a metal spoon.

I turn my head and look out the back window at the yard. I rest a hand on the kitchen table. I think about Patricia drinking a cup of coffee out of this mug every morning and watching the world wake up.

She glances up at me before turning back to her view. "It's sweet that you think I was a morning person," she says.

"Well, were you?" I ask.

"I don't know."

I had to leave because I couldn't be there anymore, not with all of her things surrounding me, filling every corner of the house up.

There's a pack on my back, a nice leather one I found in a closet. I went digging through her cupboards, found some warmer clothes to wear, a few things of canned food and a spare toothbrush still in the packaging. It's enough to get me through if I have to be alone.

Which is hard and confusing because I was born as one of two. I was made to never be alone and even after three years I can't shake that loss. I can't fill that hole either with my brother's things because I'm not allowed home, so I wear another person's life like it's my goddamned right instead. I think that maybe Patricia would have been proud of me for taking what I'm owed instead of asking for it.

I just wish that I could take that too, the ability to safe hold the people that matter to me.

I wish I had more than just the basic skills I learned from years of looking after Cass but I dropped out of high school when he died because I thought I should.

It didn't feel right somehow, to go on living life like nothing was wrong.

"That's what I wanted you to do."

"Shut it Cass, you're dead so you don't get a fucking say."

"Absolutely not," says the lady. I think the Mayor called her Ana maybe but I already forgot.

Then Alaric says, "Ana, dear, just think about it." So I guess that I was right, "This clinic needs someone capable to take it over when we're done here."

"No way, we do not need a plague victim in here," she snaps back without even pretending to take a moment to think, damn. "Or another mouth to feed."

Valid reasons, I nod along in agreement, biting my lip. Maybe I should tell them about the soup I took from Pat's pantry. Think it said, Harvest Pumpkin. I blink. That's so fucking stupid, I can't believe I even just thought it and here I am, asking the mayor to teach me how to save lives.

"My dear," Alaric says, tone soothing, "this isn't you."

Then something magic happens. Ana tips into Alaric and says nothing for a long moment. Then she looks at me over Alaric's shoulder and smiles and it's gentle and warm and so kind and beyond what a guy like me deserves and I have to look away.

Kind of makes me want to finally cry.

When I look back it's almost like she's seeing me for the first time since she entered the room.

"Honey, have you eaten?" she asks me and her tone is just as kind and gentle as her eyes just were but this time, there's pity there too.

I stare at her, eyes wide, then blink quickly. Maybe she doesn't know how deep warmth like that can cut.

"No?" I answer.