Something begins, Something ends |
Summary:
The last box was taped and taken by the movers. Now she was left to say goodbye to the one soul she really didn't want to leave behind.
The last box was taped and taken by the movers. Now she was left to say goodbye to the one soul she really didn't want to leave behind.
Movement. Bodies. Everything was organized chaos. Chatter filled the home, echoes of laughter chasing the minutes that ticked by. Heavy feet trudged paths into every room, to every corner of the home, back and forth, back and forth. The packaging tape unraveling, boxes being dragged, and the crinkling of paper filled the room as she kept working, matching the tempo of the rest of the bodies in the home as best she could.
“Last one?” someone asked, a pair of feet stopped a respectful distance away as she taped the flaps shut.
“Yeah. All yours,” she confirmed, standing and moving back.
The person picked the box up and left, leaving her to register the question fully.
The room was bare save for the old furniture being left behind; any signs that there had been anything more were few and hard to see. The noises in the home quieted, mimicking the silence of her own thoughts as she stood there staring into space..
“You alright?”
She looked towards the familiar voice and smiled. “Yeah. Just thinking. Kind of.” Her gaze drifted around the room again. “I keep expecting this to start feeling weird but,” she focused back on him, the smile returning, “I guess it really is time for me to move out.”
“Is that supposed to feel weird?”
She grinned at that. “Probably not but I keep expecting it to feel like it. Don’t get me wrong. It’s weird to think this is the last time I’ll be in this room but there’s not the…dreamlike sensation that I keep thinking should be associated with it. I lived here for so long and so much has happened and yet it seems oddly easy to finally leave it all behind.”
He finally entered the room, chuckling as she sat on the bed. “You know,” he offered, perching on the bed next to her, “they say that when something begins, something ends; an equivalent exchange of sorts.” He met her curious gaze. “Maybe it doesn’t feel weird because this is what is supposed to happen. There’s nothing left for you here and so much more waiting for you there.”
“You’re still here,” she pointed out, the words coming out edging on a whisper.
He chuckled again. “Well, yes, but that can’t be helped.”
“Come with me?” she tried one last time.
She held his gaze when he looked at her again; his gaze was sorrowful but determined. “You know I can’t. It’ll be better if I stayed here. That way they can’t follow you there.”
She accepted his words. After all, they had spent long enough arguing about it that she had been expecting the answer. Didn’t hurt to try, at least. “Will you be ok?”
He nodded. “I’ll leave as soon as you’re clear of the state.” He looked out the window. “Speaking of: the movers are gone and you have a plane to go catch.” He stood up. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Beckett.” He stilled at the door, looking back. She stood at the edge of the bed, a hand clasped around her necklace. “You’ll protect the next family, right? No more deaths?”
He offered her an encouraging smile. “No more deaths,” he assured her. “Mine will be the last one caused by their hands.”
She searched his face looking for anything that would tell her he was lying. A determined look crossed her face and she pulled the necklace off.
He took a startled step towards her, reaching out. “Brittney-”
She smiled at him. “I still hate that name, you know.” His hand lowered back to his side as she held the necklace tight. “I want to leave this behind just in case. So that you have something to help you protect the next family.”
He shook his head. “You don’t-”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” She stepped around him, through the hall, and down the stairs to the front door. There was a small trash pile by the door and the breath mints tin was still there. With quick hands, she wrapped the necklace in a strip of fabric from the pile of trash before tucking it into the tin. She then wrapped the tin in a chunk of torn cling wrap. Getting to her feet, she opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. The air smelled of rain. She hurried down the steps and hooked around the right railing into the flowerbed. It looked far more welcoming than it had when her mom had first bought the place. She reached to the middle of the dirt patch under the stairs and made a hole as deep as her hand could reach. The tin made a faint plopping sound at the bottom of her crude hole and she put the dirt back, packing it back in as best she could at the odd angle. She brushed her hands off on her pants as she returned to the walk, looking at the door. He was standing there watching her with curious eyes. She grinned at him. “Now you can tell them where it is if they need it.”
“And if I’m no longer here?”
She shrugged. “Then it’ll help protect the house.” She stopped at the door. He hadn’t moved away and she had yet to treat him as anything other than another person. “Beckett, I need my bag.”
He sighed heavily. “I know but you’re vulnerable now.”
She reached out and despite the fact that her hand went through his, she knew the intent was perceived. “I’ll be just fine. You’re more than enough to keep them back now.”
His expression spoke loudly of how much he didn’t like this but he did step back.
She didn’t miss the fact that his hand briefly gained some semblance of solid as he took a hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Be quick.”
She crossed the ten feet to her bag and jacket and was back out the door before she could take a second breath. His hand slipped from hers at the door and she turned to face him again. She could barely make out the stairs through him now. “That should be everything.”
He smiled at her. “I hope life is kind to you, Bree.”
“And may the afterlife be kind to you, Beckett.” She slung her bag onto her shoulder and walked down the steps. She didn’t look back till she was on the sidewalk outside of the home’s property. She was saddened to see the front door closed and the house looking empty. Beckett was nowhere to be seen.
She turned and started for the bus station. She had faith that Beckett would be fine but she had hoped to see him one last time before leaving him behind for good. Hopefully he wouldn’t be tied to the house for much longer, too.
“Last one?” someone asked, a pair of feet stopped a respectful distance away as she taped the flaps shut.
“Yeah. All yours,” she confirmed, standing and moving back.
The person picked the box up and left, leaving her to register the question fully.
The room was bare save for the old furniture being left behind; any signs that there had been anything more were few and hard to see. The noises in the home quieted, mimicking the silence of her own thoughts as she stood there staring into space..
“You alright?”
She looked towards the familiar voice and smiled. “Yeah. Just thinking. Kind of.” Her gaze drifted around the room again. “I keep expecting this to start feeling weird but,” she focused back on him, the smile returning, “I guess it really is time for me to move out.”
“Is that supposed to feel weird?”
She grinned at that. “Probably not but I keep expecting it to feel like it. Don’t get me wrong. It’s weird to think this is the last time I’ll be in this room but there’s not the…dreamlike sensation that I keep thinking should be associated with it. I lived here for so long and so much has happened and yet it seems oddly easy to finally leave it all behind.”
He finally entered the room, chuckling as she sat on the bed. “You know,” he offered, perching on the bed next to her, “they say that when something begins, something ends; an equivalent exchange of sorts.” He met her curious gaze. “Maybe it doesn’t feel weird because this is what is supposed to happen. There’s nothing left for you here and so much more waiting for you there.”
“You’re still here,” she pointed out, the words coming out edging on a whisper.
He chuckled again. “Well, yes, but that can’t be helped.”
“Come with me?” she tried one last time.
She held his gaze when he looked at her again; his gaze was sorrowful but determined. “You know I can’t. It’ll be better if I stayed here. That way they can’t follow you there.”
She accepted his words. After all, they had spent long enough arguing about it that she had been expecting the answer. Didn’t hurt to try, at least. “Will you be ok?”
He nodded. “I’ll leave as soon as you’re clear of the state.” He looked out the window. “Speaking of: the movers are gone and you have a plane to go catch.” He stood up. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the door.”
“Beckett.” He stilled at the door, looking back. She stood at the edge of the bed, a hand clasped around her necklace. “You’ll protect the next family, right? No more deaths?”
He offered her an encouraging smile. “No more deaths,” he assured her. “Mine will be the last one caused by their hands.”
She searched his face looking for anything that would tell her he was lying. A determined look crossed her face and she pulled the necklace off.
He took a startled step towards her, reaching out. “Brittney-”
She smiled at him. “I still hate that name, you know.” His hand lowered back to his side as she held the necklace tight. “I want to leave this behind just in case. So that you have something to help you protect the next family.”
He shook his head. “You don’t-”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” She stepped around him, through the hall, and down the stairs to the front door. There was a small trash pile by the door and the breath mints tin was still there. With quick hands, she wrapped the necklace in a strip of fabric from the pile of trash before tucking it into the tin. She then wrapped the tin in a chunk of torn cling wrap. Getting to her feet, she opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. The air smelled of rain. She hurried down the steps and hooked around the right railing into the flowerbed. It looked far more welcoming than it had when her mom had first bought the place. She reached to the middle of the dirt patch under the stairs and made a hole as deep as her hand could reach. The tin made a faint plopping sound at the bottom of her crude hole and she put the dirt back, packing it back in as best she could at the odd angle. She brushed her hands off on her pants as she returned to the walk, looking at the door. He was standing there watching her with curious eyes. She grinned at him. “Now you can tell them where it is if they need it.”
“And if I’m no longer here?”
She shrugged. “Then it’ll help protect the house.” She stopped at the door. He hadn’t moved away and she had yet to treat him as anything other than another person. “Beckett, I need my bag.”
He sighed heavily. “I know but you’re vulnerable now.”
She reached out and despite the fact that her hand went through his, she knew the intent was perceived. “I’ll be just fine. You’re more than enough to keep them back now.”
His expression spoke loudly of how much he didn’t like this but he did step back.
She didn’t miss the fact that his hand briefly gained some semblance of solid as he took a hold of her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Be quick.”
She crossed the ten feet to her bag and jacket and was back out the door before she could take a second breath. His hand slipped from hers at the door and she turned to face him again. She could barely make out the stairs through him now. “That should be everything.”
He smiled at her. “I hope life is kind to you, Bree.”
“And may the afterlife be kind to you, Beckett.” She slung her bag onto her shoulder and walked down the steps. She didn’t look back till she was on the sidewalk outside of the home’s property. She was saddened to see the front door closed and the house looking empty. Beckett was nowhere to be seen.
She turned and started for the bus station. She had faith that Beckett would be fine but she had hoped to see him one last time before leaving him behind for good. Hopefully he wouldn’t be tied to the house for much longer, too.