The Trouble with Time, Part 19 - Spoon

Nope.

Nope. Absolutely not. She can't go in there again.

But she has to. And she has to today. Kevin said it would take a while to do the spell. She needs to get the berries tonight or she'll be late.

The clatter of the spoon falling from her hand brings her out if her growing panic. She picks it back up and lifts some food into her mouth. She's been staring at her dinner for long enough that it's grown cold.

She pushes it away. She doesn't have an appetite anyway. She'll eat when all this is over. The spoon is still in her hand and she's gripping it, hard. Hard enough that it's hurting her hand. With her left hand she digs from her pocket the Vial of Phobos she got from Sam, a long time ago now. They'll want it back soon. It's amazing they even let her borrow it.

It's dark outside. Has been a couple of hours. It's still early enough that someone might be out at the garden. But probably not. Not this time of the year. And the forecast says there should be fresh snow coming in tonight. Right now there isn't any, just a frozen ground. It's better to go before the snow comes. She's less likely to get caught if she doesn't leave prints.

She tries to gather her thoughts for a moment longer, tries to come up with any reason to not go, any other way to get the berries. She hasn't come up with anything in all these weeks. She doesn't come up with anything now.

She sighs, stands and walks away from the table. The spoon is left on the table, bent.

~x~

She's staring at the fence again, hating herself and the world. She can't do this. She has to do this.

She pulls out the vial from her pocket, and opens the cork. She takes her fear -- not only her fear of the dogs waiting for her on the other side of the fence, but also the fear of not making it in time, the fear of not knowing what the spell actually does, the fear that everything will go wrong, and it will all be her fault, and the fear she will never remember what happened to her in the time she can't remember -- and bottles it. It's easier than she thought. The bottle does almost all the work. All she has to do is offer it something to hold.

And suddenly everything is fine. She knows she's been avoiding this out of fear, but she doesn't quite understand in the moment what could really be that terrifying here that she's spent the last weeks avoiding it.

She's already about to jump the fence when she remembers the first rule she gave herself for the time her fear is safe in the bottle: don't be stupid, even though you're fearless. Just because she's not afraid of the dogs, it would be stupid to get caught by them.

She listens for a moment longer, then jumps the fence, listens again. Nothing. She starts to make her way towards the winterberry tree, as silently as she possibly can. Every now and then she stops to listen. Still nothing.

She makes it to the tree. Still nothing. She's clearly lucky tonight.

And then she hears them. Even though she's not afraid of them, or of getting caught, she knows it would be very stupid to let the dogs catch her, so she grabs a fistful of berries and turns to run. She knows she needs to outrun the dogs, so she speeds up as fast as she can, and keeps it up.

It's a weird feeling, running for her life without feeling the urgency of it at all.

She needs to get away, so she runs. It's that simple. Soon she's as the fence and over it. She disappears behind a corner and leaves the dogs barking on the other side.

~x~

Kevin looks up as she enters the store.

"Got berries for you," she says, and digs out the small container she put them into as soon as she was far enough from the garden it was unlikely she would get caught.

Kevin eyes her as he takes the berries.

"You didn't let your fear out of the bottle yet, did you?"

"No," she admits, embarrassed. "Look, I don't understand why I would be so afraid of something like this, but I do remember the last time. I thought it'd be better if I let all that back in the company of someone I trust."

"Fair enough," Kevin concedes. "If that person is me, I suggest you do it now. The longer you keep your fear bottled up, the worse it'll be."

She hesitates.

"You don't want to take the fear back," Kevin says. It's not a question. She shakes her head. Life is so much easier without the constant fear of everything. "You have to. Better now than later."

Don't be stupid, even though you're fearless.

She sighs, digs out the vial. She salutes Kevin, opens it, and all the fear hits her like a tsunami.
_____________________________

Well, we've got our ingredients. Now what?

The topic for tomorrow is Archive.

~matleena