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thelightsandtheroses · 1 month

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seven: me and the devil, walking side by side

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Chapter summary: an unwelcome visitor brings everything to a head Chapter warnings: Reader is a single parent to a teenager, mentions of breakups, discussions of cults/religious movements and violence within these, threat of a gun, tension, lightly implied panic attack/anxiety, 18+ blog mdni, Notes: Chapter title i

s from Me and the Devil, originally by Gil-Scott Heron but I have both this and the Soap&Skin version on my playlist for this fic. Thanks for all of your patience with this chapter. It’s a big one! Word Count: 5.4k

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You’ve been through breakups before. It’s nothing new. Usually you like to be the one to leave before you can be left. That takes out some of the salt in the wound.

Your separation from Joel hurts though. It physically hurts.

Your chest aches, your eyes sting, you miss him. Every small detail brings Joel to you; a flannel shirt, the soap everyone in Jackson.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve distanced yourself from a good man - and aren’t those rare to find?- or the impending fear of The Junction. Perhaps it’s both.

On the moments that Joel is not haunting you, your past is.

Beau once asked you whether you were sure that breaking up with Joel was a good idea, if it would perhaps be better to bring him on side. That’s Beau; a survivor, pragmatic to his core.

You can’t quite find the words to voice what it would have meant to you to tell Joel. You still feel complicit somehow in everything that Ethan did, you realised too late, you didn’t stop him. There’s too much shame ingrained in your body for you to tell Joel.

The pain of the breakup feels like a suitable punishment.

“Anything?” you ask Beau as you sip your tea in the kitchen.

Beau shakes his head wearily. “No sign on anyone yet.” He pauses. “If I had to say anything though, it’s almost too …. clean. There’s no sign of anyone, sweetheart, anyone or anything.”

“They’re cleaning their tracks?”

“Probably.”

“Shit. We should leave.”

“We’re better off here than out there,” Beau replies calmly, “‘sides, we can’t just haul Gabe off in the middle of the night now. He’ll ask questions.” There’s an unspoken question - will you ever tell your son the truth?

“I hate this.”

“Me too. We’re going to get through this though.”

“Are we?”

“Of course.”

“Who were you patrolling with?” you ask, eager to change the subject.

Beau shifts uncomfortably. “Just -”

“Joel?”

He nods. ‘Did he notice the clean-up?“

“Things like that don’t get past him. He’s … aware of techniques like that.” probably for the same reasons as Beau. Their chequered histories made them survivors and in some strange kept people they love safe - Ellie for Joel, Sean and you for Beau. “We both commented on it. Joel doesn’t know about the junction though, he’ll assume it’s more like raiders. He wants to raise it in the town meeting tonight - I think he’d mention it sooner if it was more than just a theory. Maybe that can work to our advantage though.”

“How?”

“Well, if he says to Maria then she’ll probably put a stop to traders for a bit. That might protect us a little longer if Jackson’s more closed. It’ll give us time to decide on what we’re doing.” Beau smiles at you. “You and Sean, you’re not alone in this. You, Gabriel, Sean and me … we’re sticking together.”

You nod, sniffing loudly. You won’t cry, you won’t.

“There’s a trader in,” Esther says casually, smiling as you look up from your books.

It’s probably nothing, it’s probably just one of the usual traders who passes through Jackson, but that doesn’t explain why your blood is turning cold and your palms are sweaty.

“A trader? One of our usuals?”

“No, no, never seen him before.”

“Oh, really?” you ask, schooling your expression as much as you can. “What does he look like?”

“Not as good looking as Joel Miller, how you let a man like that go, I will never know.” Esther sighs and you remember that when Joel first came to town, Tommy had been trying to match the two of them. It hadn’t lasted long. You’d asked Joel about it once but he’d been polite, a southern gentleman to a tee so you knew even if there was a story, it wasn’t one you’d hear any time soon.

“Well, I’m sure he’d be heartened to hear your support on that. So, the trader?”

“I don’t know, he had dark hair and he - he had presence, a slight limp though.”

“A limp?”

“Uh huh. Shame really, and some burns but other than that …. he seemed real friendly, had a Victorian doll for trade too, might have some things for your boy. I heard a rumour about coffee.”

You walk past Esther, barely letting her complete her sentences before you’re heading out of the library.

Beau’s on the way to the hall. He’s in the stables and you can see him chatting with Ellie as you approach them.

“Hey Beau, Hi Ellie,” you say, walking in and smiling broadly. You think it’s a normal, false smile but by Beau’s expression, and Ellie’s, you’ve failed miserably. “Beau, there’s a trader at the community hall, want to go check it out?”

Beau looks at you and you hope he’s noticed how you said trader, how you all but winked and raised an eyebrow at the gesture.

“Oh, really?”

“We were talking about trading some of our old stuff soon, right? From back when?”

He definitely understands now. “Of course. Ellie, it was real nice talkin’ to you.”

Before you can leave, Ellie grabs you arm. “Wait, can you just wait a moment?”

No, you think, but it’s Ellie and you’ve already let her down so many times recently, that you nod. “Catch up in a moment, Beau?”

“Okay. I’ll be outside.” If you know, he’ll probably be working on a plan, just in case. He’ll be looking for signs of more of them. You and Sean told him about Ethan’s strategies, about his plans if that first gated community failed.

Ellie looks worried, her arms are folded around herself and it reminds you she’s still just a child, only fifteen. Younger than your own son.

“How are you doing, Ellie?”

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah, over the whole arm thing and the accident. I know it made you and Joel argue and then - and then you broke up. I know it’s-”

“Ellie, it was nothing to do with that,” you say vehemently, “Nothing at all about you. I promise.”

“Then why? I thought you liked him?”

“I did.” You do.

“I’ll never understand any of this,” Ellie laments, shaking her head. “Why not just - why’d you come into our lives just to do this then?”

You would have preferred it if she hit you. “I never wanted to hurt you, or Joel. I promise that. I’m - I have to go, Ellie, but I - we can talk more.”

“‘S no point. Unless, is there?” Ellie looks up hopefully.

You shake your head, digging your hands into your pockets. “Take care, Ellie.”

You have to get to the hall, you have to hope your fears are unfounded.

You can’t feel your fingers.

You know.

There are fresh flowers on each table in the hall; it’s a simple gesture, one that intimates the security, the homeliness of Jackson. It’s a place where you can do that again, it’s about living not surviving.

It clashes with the raging survival instinct in you, the fear that your home isn’t as safe as you hoped. The knowledge that everything is about to come crashing down.

What if they’ve already infiltrated? What if there’s been a Junction spy reporting back for months? They would despise you for what you did. They would demand your blood. But what if he …

You look over at the crowd around the trader and begin moving forward with Beau, each step in sync, his presence an unspoken crutch.

You hope you’re wrong about this.

He is not who you remember. That is the first thing you think when you see him. His hair is longer now with his limp, thinning dark locks tied back in a scraggly ponytail. There are more lines on his face, a vicious burn on one hand and you know underneath his clothes will be the hidden scars you left him with - you missed the first time. The second time you hit his leg though.

His eyes widen with delight when he sees you walk into the building. “You,” he exclaims, “At long last, we meet again.”

In your imagination, this scene always was more obviously like a horror film. In your nightmares, you’d be bleeding, taken, surviving once more. The scene was always in some abandoned warehouse, cabin or barn too.

You watched too many movies growing up.

However, you could have never expected this moment would happen in Jackson’s community hall. You could never have expected there would be an audience either. People are still milling around, looking at his potential wares, going about their day like the world hasn’t just ended once more. You want to scream at them, you want to call the insanity of this situation out but your feet are rooted to the floor with thick tendrils of fear holding you in place.

You notice Joel and Tommy at one table. Joel’s eyes look confused as he seems to gauge your expression.

You can see Sean standing near Maria. Sean looks so uneasy; almost grey, and you cannot imagine how your friend is feeling right now, you know he suffered in his own way at The Junction. His face is calm though, he’s planning, waiting for the right moment. You recognise the way his hands are shoved into his jeans pocket though, the way his eyes move wildly around the room when he thinks no one is looking at him.

Your legs feel shaky but you refuse to lean against Beau, to show any weakness in this situation. This situation has been a long time coming.

It’s been seventeen years. You are not who you were then. You have been shaped by him and the Junction, that is true, but you’ve become your own person again. Each tragedy, each win, each memory has sculpted who you are at this moment, has trained you for this moment.

Beau whispers your name, gives you choices on how you play this. He’s on your side, that’s clear, that’s beyond question. Part of you wants to hand the situation over to him, to let Beau deal with it while you bury your head in the sand once again.

That’s not possible though.

You wonder if it’s only the four of you who are aware of the tension at this moment. It’s a secret that your neighbours and friends can’t see, that you never wanted them to see.

And Joel -

Everyone is in danger now.

“Hi honey,” Ethan says loudly with a smile, “It’s been a while. Why don’t you come on over and say hi to your husband now?”

His words have the desired effect; everyone stops, everyone stares, heads moving in a ripple of movement throughout the hall.

Next to Sean, Maria’s smile fades and her face hardens. You hear the hushed whispers around you as they realise Ethan is looking and talking to you.

It’s Joel you want to look at though. You feel drawn to him like Orpheus, knowing you can’t look and desperate to all at once. You remember how he was unable not to turn around in those Greek myths, how you’d argued in class it was foolish and inevitable all at once.

Is this you now? Are you the damned, foolish one? Is your failure, your doom, inevit

Seeing Ethan solidifies everything; Joel is the person you love, the man who loved you and you have lost him because of your secrets and past, in a foolhardy attempt to protect Gabriel.

Gabriel. He’s nowhere to be found as you look around you and you’re grateful for that. You can protect him for just a few more minutes.

Instead of your son, instead of Ethan, you finally allow yourself to glance at Joel. Joel’s face is pulled into a frown and he looks … hurt. You’ve hurt him once again.

You can imagine his thoughts right now - he’ll be wondering why he bothered to trust you, how you hid this from him and why.

“I -” you stutter words, your mouth opening and closing without making any sense. You exhale slowly. “How’s your leg?”

Sean bursts out laughing. It’s a strange, mangled giggle borne of surprise and worry that immediately stops as people look at him.

“So how’s that how we’re playing things, huh?”

“This isn’t a game, Ethan.”

“Isn’t everything you do a game?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t - you were married, you were married to him?” Tommy exclaims, looking at Joel and then you in the vain hope one of you will provide an answer. There’s an unspoken conversation between the two brothers, one clearly Tommy isn’t happy about. “Who is he?” Tommy says your name in a low voice, imploring you to confide in him.

“He shouldn’t be here, he needs to leave.”

“I need to leave?” Ethan asks, an unreadable expression on his face. “So you haven’t told them anything about who you really are then? They don’t know there’s a fox in the chicken coop?” He says your name, tutting with disappointment.

Whispers carry around you like leaves in the wind. You’re not sure what people are thinking right now. You’ve been too quiet, too secretive, it would be easy to wonder who you really are. In another world, maybe this is who would have been - his dutiful wife and spy.

You notice Maria saying something quietly to Tommy, how the two of them are subtly clearing the hall of bystanders. Joel is staring between you and Ethan with a blank face.

Do they think you’re a victim or the perpetrator in this scenario? You notice Beau take the smallest step forward, readying himself for something.

“I don’t think this conversation is serving our community right now,” Maria says flatly.

“Hey Joel,” you hear a familiar voice call. ”Has the trader got anything good? You better not have traded like half of everything you own for coffee again. I honestly don’t get the whole coffee thing anyway, it tastes like burnt- ” Ellie’s voice breaks off.

Your heart races as Ellie, Jesse and to your horror Sean walk into the community hall, completely oblivious to what’s happened but seemingly starting to realise that something is going on.

“Not now, Ellie,” Joel gruffly says.

“What’s uh -” Ellie breaks off.

Ethan is staring at Gabriel and your heart sinks. For sixteen years, you have convinced yourself that Gabriel doesn’t look like Ethan, that there’s no passing resemblance at all.

There is though.

You see it now and it feels like a glaring beacon, another lie come home to roost. A truth you couldn’t avoid forever. He’s yours, you know that, but together in the same room you can see the similarities.

“Mu-” Ethan begins warily, noticing the tension around the room. He looks alert, worried, ready to do whatever is necessary. That’s how it is in this world - you have drummed survival into him from an early age. It feels antithetical though, that the child you want to protect and nurture knows how to fight, how to endure this world you placed him into.

Sean immediately takes a step towards him, but Joel’s there first, a strange look in his eyes. “You need to go home, all of you. Now.”

“But -”

“No arguments, Ellie.” His tone is firm. To anyone else, they would think him a strict parent, a firm, resolute man who accepts no arguments. You can hear the worry though, the slight fear in his voice that Ellie is here. That you have endangered her. Endangered everyone.

“Ergh,” Ellie says but she holds her hands up and takes a step backwards exit with Jesse. She looks over at you and then Ethan and then Gabriel, a frown forming on her face and then she pauses.

“Well, isn’t today full of revelations,” Ethan says in a wonderstruck tone. “It’s curious. He really does look -”

“Oh fuck off.”

It’s enough though. Those few words and you realise Gabriel is putting things together. The betrayal and fury in his eyes eviscerates you.

You look at the ground, hearing the shudder of your breath. No. No.

“Holy shit,“ you hear Ellie mumble under her breath.

“Ellie!” Joel says, the desperation starting to become clearer.

How much does our -” Ethan continues.

“Ethan, shut the fuck up and just go,” Sean interrupts.

“You’ve got braver on the outside. It’s a shame you showed none of this in the Junction when -”

“Thank you for stopping by,” Maria says, her voice even and cool, “It’s time you head on out now though.”

Joel clasps Gabriel’s shoulder so he can’t pass, can’t get any closer to the chaos around you.

“Leave, huh? Well, I think that perhaps you’re mistaken. I didn’t just come here for my son after all.” Ethan sighs. “It’s been a hard winter.”

Joel tightens his grip on Gabriel’s shoulder. Beau and Tommy exchange a look.

You wish you had a weapon, had something to stop this.

You shouldn’t have missed the first time, you shouldn’t have aimed for his leg the second time either.

“So, how many settlements have you been through now?” Sean asks in a nonchalant tone. “I think after two or three, it really says more about -”

“The Junction goes where it is needed. I have heard it is needed here.”

“We don’t need the Junction here,” you say quietly. “No one needs that.”

“You’d rather be damned?”

“If the alternative is an eternity with you, with pleasure,” you say icily.

You hear a slight snort of laughter and turn to meet Joel. He’s still resting a hand on your son’s shoulder, but he’s looking at you. He nods, a subtle gesture anyone else might have missed but that fills you with relief.

You might get through this.,

“You got your fire back, I’d almost forgotten. Now, what was it you used to say when we discussed this. When we discussed what to do about reluctant participants, people who didn’t know they needed to be saved? You remember this is the nice way? It could have been very different after all, but I am here offering magnanimous absolution, even to you.”

“I don’t need your absolution. I don’t need anything from you but for you to go now. For you to leave this settlement, leave these people alone. That’s what all of them need, to be away from you.”

“You think it’s right that they’re here without the Junction’s Word, but maintain all these resources while your own-”

“Leave. While you can,” you say flatly.

“Do these people even know you?”

“You need to go, Ethan, now,” Sean says firmly. “We said we don’t need the Junction here. This can end amicably.”

“Amicably?”

“Yeah, no need for it not to, right? Democracy over depravity - that’s the Junction’s way, right? The old ways, the right ways as you used to call it.” Sean’s face twists into a tormented grimace at those words.

Beau scowls and you realise that while you’ve kept the Junction in a box for seventeen years, Sean hasn’t. He has told Beau, he has talked about it. It’s you who has been stuck.

“You dare speak of the ways when you -“

“Just go, now. Sean’s right,” you say firmly.

“Amicably, is that what he said?” Ethan asks, regarding you again with a scornful expression that turns your blood so cold, you’re amazed you’re not exhaling ice. “Amicably.”

“Ellie, all three of you, I am not playin’” you hear Joel say in a deadly tone.

The three teenagers make a move to leave, relief flooding your veins as you gratefully nod at Joel.

Gabriel is the last to leave, he hangs back until Joel nods at him firmly, but as he moves to the door - he’s almost gone, he’s almost safe - there’s a sound.

“Nope,” Ethan says coldly, “He stays.”

You look at Ethan, at the gun in his hand, pointed directly at you.

“Mum?” Gabriel asks, his voice shaky.

“I thought Eugene fucking searched the traders,” Joel yells at Tommy or Maria, or perhaps you or Beau. All you can see is the barrel.

You’ve always known how this is ends for you.

“You should leave now,” Joel says in a deadly tone. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Ethan. You spin around, meeting his gaze desperately.

His hand on Gabriel is firm enough to stop him from either fleeing or running towards Ethan. You notice the way his muscles are slightly tensed, not too tight, but you make out his vein snaking down his arm.

You’ve mentally prepared for a dozen reactions to what is going on around you: disgust, hatred, pity, but you didn’t expect what meets you. Joel’s face is steely, poised to fight but a flash of fear passes his eyes when you connect with them. He is afraid for you, he is worried. There is no hatred, no disgust, nothing you expected.

He is not asking for you to leave. He is trying to protect you.

It’s like a lead balloon in your stomach. Maybe, maybe you could have said something all this time ago.

“Trust me, she’s not worth it,” Ethan says conversationally. “This settlement, my son? Now those are different stories.

“Are there others here?” you ask suddenly as you piece more of the day together. You can barely recognise your flat voice, the way you’re not entirely in your own body any more. You’re existing, and now you know that because you’ve finally been living and now you know what that is, you’ll lose it all*. “Did they help you keep the gun?”* Someone could be here from the Junction and you need them gone too.

Ethan pivots, takes a couple of steps forward and turns around the room, observing the rapt, frozen crowd around you both. It transports you instantly to dusty rooms, to a younger, more vibrant man you thought wanted to do something good in the world. It takes you back to a place you wanted to belong in, to a time you believed and hung off every single word he said.

“Others?”

“Yes, are they already here?”

“Why would -”

“I know your plays, I know them all.”

“Do you?”

You stare blankly at him, raise an eyebrow slightly. “No. I thought I did, but I didn’t. I thought you were someone else.”

“I am the voice of -”

“You’re a tyrant, a hypocrite and a snake oil salesman all wrapped up. You don’t speak a word of truth and you never have.”

“I’m the vessel, and so is my -”

“If you speak about my son, I will rip you apart so violently it will make the infected look tame.”

“You didn’t have these teeth before. What a pity. It would have been useful.”

“Go.”

“We’re past that.”

You realise he’s right. He’s in Jackson now, this ends one of two ways. Tommy and Joel, they can’t let him leave like this. You can recognise the desperation in his eyes, the hunger, the plans and strategies.

“You’re my wife. I am not going without you and my son.”

“We’re staying here.”

“No. I’m not,” Gabriel says, “Not with her.”

“Gabriel, shut up,” Sean snaps uncharacteristically. “Just leave it now.”

“My son ”

“You want to talk about the Junction? Let’s talk about it then. Gabriel, did you want to grow up in a place that would kill you if you -” You zone out as Sean continues, unable to fully bear the full truth of life in the Junction being exposed to the people around you.

You remember being hungry so much, the fear of breaking a new rule or tenet that your husband came up with. You remember how the inclusive, welcoming commune it was supposed to be shifted. How it became radicalised, against any sign of difference or subversion of what Ethan thought a person should be like. You remember the sexism, the way your voice began to become quieter and quieter.

You remember that Ethan scared you, that his move to the Vessel was antithetical with everything you knew about him. How his words, his dreams became literal, how he looked like he hated you by the end. You remember the violence of the Junction, you remember the lack of excuses.

In some ways, in many ways, it was worse than Kansas.

“Did I physically harm you? Did I not lead you to salvation, to the tenets of hope?” Ethan asks, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“The tenets? The ones that started off just close enough to normal and then suddenly you decreed that women couldn’t wear trousers because it affected the crops, or that if I spoke unless spoken to it would damn me, or that declared you the sudden voice of hope, or a - they never held hope, your rules. Not for anyone but you. You were dangerous, you are dangerous. You harmed us all without laying a finger, that was the beauty of your plan, right?”

“You never said a word to stop me from this though, did you? In fact, you -”

“I’m not finished, Ethan. You’re not a good person, Ethan, and I will never regret keeping my son from your dangerous, frankly nonsensical shit. That’s being a parent. So tell us who’s inside, who’s helping you and maybe we can figure a way out for you to leave.”

“You and I know they won’t let that happen. Do you remember the plan for then?” He laughs then. “I’m leaving and i’m leaving with my son. He’s the future of the Junction.”

“There is no way in hell that will ever happen.”

“He wants to. I can see it in his eyes.”

“No, Ethan, you know how this is going to end.”

Ethan sighs and nods. You exhale shakily and then look up as you hear the sound of the gun load. “Then I’ll take you with me to the eternal life instead.”

You don’t shut your eyes. You don’t look down. You will not cower for him.

You wanted to live. You’ve had more years than you expected. You wish you had more. It was always going to end this way though.

He will have to look at you. You will not make this easy for him.

“No, Mum -” your son’s voice is enough to make you waver, but perhaps, perhaps everyone else can keep him safe. If Ethan kills you, maybe they’ll protect him. It’s fine.

It’s fitting.

It was always going to be this way.

You wish you were outside though. perhaps by your bench and that quiet sanctuary you found. You want to hear birdsong, feel the sun on your skin one last time. You want to breathe in the fresh air and remember that.

Maybe they can scatter your ashes on the bench.

The bench bought you so much - peace on nightmare ridden nights, Joel, the difference between surviving and living. If it wouldn’t make Ethan happy, you’d tell Gabriel that now, or Sean. It’s too much for Gabriel.

Perhaps Joel knows. You hope he does. You hope he doesn’t.

You’re sorry. So sorry these people you love have to see this, have to mourn you. You should tell Gabriel you love him one more time, but you don’t want to burden him.

There’s a sudden crash, you feel yourself hit the floor and you finally allow yourself to shut your eyes as the gun goes off.

You expect to feel pain, to feel warm or cold, or something. Instead there’s nothing.

There are hands around you, pulling you away, words - Joel? Is she hurt? Did it get her? Words fade in and out. Something’s gone wrong. This doesn’t feel like death.

You open your eyes.

Ethan is on the floor and unconscious. Joel is shaking his fist and Beau squeezes your shoulders before heading over to a shaken looking Sean. Next to him, your son stares at the floor.

“So yeah, we used to be in a cult,” Sean says, running a hand over his hair and shaking his head.

You hear an almost laugh, a polite but awkward acknowledgement, from maybe Tommy or Beau, but you’re still glued to the floor, still reeling from this day.

You feel eyes on you and look up to meet your son’s gaze. Gabriel looks at you as though he has never seen you before, through you in fact, and immediately runs out of the room.

“Wait, Gabriel.” You make a move to go after him, to explain. If you can just talk to him, then maybe it will be enough. You shouldn’t have avoided this, you should have told him this.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got him,” Sean says, moving quickly.

“Where do we put him?” you ask flatly, staring at the unconscious form in front of you.

“The jail,” Maria says quietly. “The jail, Joel.”

“Guess we’ll finally use it,” Tommy replies.

“He can’t stay,” Joel says. “Tommy, he’ll -”

“I know, brother, I know.” Tommy looks down and then at Maria whose lips are pursed.

“He tried us,” Maria says, “We have to do what we have to do.”

“I’ll handle it,” Joel says calmly, authoritatively. He isn’t looking at you and you feel ashamed of what you have bought into his life. Blood, anger, pain. He’s bought you peace and calm and love and this is how you repay him?

“Me too,” Beau replies calmly, examining his nails in a pseudo casual pose. “It won’t be a problem at all.”

The two of them each grab one of Ethan’s unconscious arms, dragging him outside and towards the bank. Beau nods at you on his exit.

They’ve left you. Sean and Gabriel are outside somewhere, Joel and Beau are gone and while Tommy and Maria are here, they are not your people.

You feel empty and numb. You brace the edge of the table and fight back the racking, great gasps of breath as shock courses through your body. You’ve been fighting tears, fighting back the fear and emotion of the past weeks.

It wasn��t just this moment, it wasn’t just today. It was the anticipation, the fear, the secrets that have lasted seventeen years.

“You need to let Gabriel, Sean and Beau stay,” you say, “I know you won’t want me here and I’ll go. I’ll go, but please let me see them from time to time. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry because I bought them here with my secrets and I’m sorry, Maria, please, please know that -” You cough, a sob Breaking through. “Please don’t make them leave too.”

“We’re not making you leave, we still want you here,” Maria says in a gentle voice. She’s looking at you in the same way as someone would a startled deer, trapped in the headlights. “We need to understand more - if you’re right, if there’s anyone here, what we need to worry about it, what this - this group could do. You can help though. And you’re not leaving. This is your home, you didn’t do anything -”

You feel warm, soft hands around you, hear soothing sounds as you finally allow yourself a moment to feel.

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