Groundlings

Lee woke up woozy. This was it. On this day, Lee would be a free person once again. Oh, how they’d waited for this. Their deal with Governor Powell had, though it had started out shady as fuck, played out really nicely in the end. She had visited them a few more times the past two months, outlining plans here, telling them news of the outside world there.
Surprisingly enough, the governor had become as close a friend as Lee could get in times like these. What a weird thought.
The dead leaves in their mattress barely so much as rustled as they sat up, stretching. Those poor leaves. Since arriving here, Lee had only seen the leaves changed out once, which meant most of them were probably crushed into powder by now. Knowing the management here, those leaves wouldn’t even be changed before the next tenant to occupy the room.
Godspeed, leaves. You can do this. I be-leef in you. Lee laughed. Aw, hell, they could still crack themself up. That was a really good sign for sure.
Yeah. Really good.
The morning was perfect. Breakfast was already here and Fiona was already off at whatever club meeting thing she had today. Knitting, their mind filled in. Wednesday is knitting day. And they didn’t care! Who gave a hoot if Wednesday was knitting day, Wednesday was now getting the fuck out of here day as far Lee was concerned.
And they were very, very concerned. Not worried concerned, no. It was simply relevant.
They shouldn’t be wasting time with thoughts. Breakfast was scarfed down quickly, as Lee was guaranteed their discharge once they were finished cleaning the bathroom as they did every day.
That bathroom was gonna look so damn perfect by the time they left. Not a single spot, they vowed. That place was gonna shine so much people would go blind going in there.
It only took them a few minutes to get to cleaning.
And lord, did they sweat their ass off. But they wouldn’t suffer through the embarrassment of being held back because the toilet rim wasn’t scrubbed up to standards. Freedom was so close. So fucking close. It was within reach, and nothing, absolutely nothing would stop Lee from latching on to it.
They weren’t going to let go ever again. No. Not ever.

And one spick and span bathroom, a lot of paperwork, and several hours later, Lee stood in the fresh air. Outside. Oh, god, it felt so good. Their stance was wide, arms stretched out. Lee closed their eyes and took a deep breath. Who could’ve thought Sequoia could be so invigorating?
Well, just goes to show how a caged animal’s perspective can change.
God, Starling would be so happy to see them. It took Lee a minute to realize that the thought was completely wrong.
No. No, Lee. Not this again. Starling was dead. He was dead. This was a Sequoia without Starling Anderson. Oh, lord, that thought hurt. Lee hadn’t faced it properly yet, apparently. All that time spent locked in, not knowing what was going on outside, could leave a glimmer of hope in a person that was difficult to distinguish. Every day Lee had woken up expecting to hear they’d found him.
But it was over now. It had been almost half a year. This expedition was leaving in another three months, just as soon as final training and protocol were gone over. As soon as all supplies were accounted for.
Lee would be leaving all memories of Starling far behind. Their heart ached at the prospect. Did anyone even carve his name into the memorials? Finch wouldn’t have for sure, the fucking murderer. Jay was a bad hand with a knife. There was a reason that man delivered water for a living. Magpie… Magpie might have, but she was always so busy.
Did they even give her time off to attend her brother’s funeral?
Deep in their heart, Lee doubted it.
But the question nagged at them, and they found themself heading to the memorials before they even went home. They had to know. They had to.

The memorials themselves started as one single tree, carved with the names of those who had perished in the process of building the city. Almost everyone had grandparents or even great-grandparents on the tree. Lee didn’t. Their parents had left another settlement, chased out for something or other. Lee’s mother never told them exactly why.
Their father had died on the way, but their mother made it to safety. A few years passed, and mother remarried and Millie was born.
Millie had Sequoian grandparents. Millie fit in. Lee was glad of it, their little sister had a difficult enough time feeling like she was accepted. It was enough to be related to an outsider, but to be an outsider herself? Unthinkable.
Lee was glad they could spare her that. They circled the heart tree of the memorials, fingers tracing over edges in the carvings worn smooth with age and weather. The tradition of carving names was unintended, but it had become something close to the heart of Sequoia culture. Back in the old days, Lee had been taught, corpses were dumped into holes in the ground and covered up. Each one was given a great big rock with their name on it. It had apparently been incredibly significant to have that rock.
For remembrance, Lee supposed.
And that’s what the memorial trees served as. Some of them were hollowed out like residences, with little rooms to sit and light candles in and reflect, if you wanted. There were benches around the area if you wanted to stay outside, but the place had an air of regal solemnity that was not even lost on someone like Lee.
And each tree was covered in names. It had been three or four generations since Sequoia was founded. At any given time, they had perhaps three thousand residents. That was a lot of names. Lee circled, still letting their hand drag lightly over all the cuts and ridges in the bark. Looking for one specific name was difficult when you didn’t know where it was.
People tried keeping the names of the deceased with those of their ancestors, but sometimes they simply ran out of space. Even though Grace and Woodpecker Anderson were carved next to each other, it did not guarantee Starling would be anywhere near them. But well, it would be the logical first place to look.
He wasn’t there. Lee’s breath caught in their throat, that small glimmer of hope popping back to say “hi” for a moment. But him not being listed by his parents didn’t guarantee his absence from the trees as a whole. Lee continued their search.
He was two trees over, on the door to one of the reflection rooms. The placement brought a small smile to Lee’s face. Starling Kingfisher Anderson, silent guardian of one of the only sacred places left in the world. It was fitting. It was so very fitting.
Starling had always been a selfless man. More than once had he taken a black eye just so someone else wouldn’t have to.
In fact, that’s how they had met. They had been in different years in school since Starling was two years older than them. They’d met during their post high school sniper education.
And well, someone like Lee made an easy target for nasty comments. They were small, skinny as a twig, brown, and had a big nose. They had grown used to the abuse, to being the butt of everyone’s jokes.
But Starling hadn’t stood for it. They remembered him standing up, tall and scruffy but otherwise painfully average looking, and arguing. The conversation had escalated and Starling had taken a hard hit straight to his temple. It had been aimed for his nose, so at least he’d managed to minimize the damage but it still must’ve hurt like hell.
It had sure bruised horribly.
Starling had swung back, too, but not nearly as hard. He could have easily broken the man’s nose with those big arms of his. He’d explained to Lee later that he’d rather take pain than deal it out. It just wasn’t his style, he’d said. It had been hard enough to diffuse the fight for the moment, but he wasn’t about to just break bones and claim he’d won.
“Sometimes,” he had said in that low, earnest voice of his, “fire isn’t the way to win the fight. Sometimes you stay so quiet it becomes aggression. Sometimes you live and exist as loudly as you can just to spite the people who tell you not to. That’s what I think works best.”
Lee had nodded in agreement, and from then on they’d been close. Starling had, he confessed, initially stuck around mostly just to protect them, but after a combination of seeing what Lee themself could do and actually genuinely enjoying their presence, he had stayed for good.
And now he was gone.
Lee slammed their fist against the door, the rough bark scraping off a layer of skin on their knuckles. And they wept. Oh god, how they wept for Starling Anderson. That man had been too good to die. He had been too good to be murdered like he was.
The other few people around ignored them. Tears weren’t uncommon at the memorials, so everyone simply agreed to let each other be. It was not a place for judgment.
Lee wished no place was. Their heart ached, so badly they thought they might die from it.
They really had never had the chance to mourn him. So much had changed. Lee was on the other side of a gaping rift, staring the rest of the city in the face, but their legs were always still too short to make the jump.
Well, that much at least was true. They had always been on the small side. Apparently their father had been too, and having been malnourished in that chunk of their early childhood they spent on the run with their mother definitely hadn’t helped either.
So Lee had good eyesight. Like the governor had admitted, Lee was the sharpest sharpshooter in… Well, probably forever. Not an exaggeration at all. The city needed them. The future needed them. And here they were crying their dumbass eyes out because of something that happened half a year ago?
Holy hell, Lee needed to shape their shit up. So, painful as it was, they straightened their back and wiped their face on their sleeve, desperately fighting the erratic bursts in which their breath came.
Come on, Lee. In. Out. Deep. You got this.
They did, in fact, got this. Oh, they got this so good. Lee’s breathing relaxed, slowly returning to its regular, even pattern. Their face was still wet, so they wiped it again on their sleeve. Should’ve worn a darker color, Lee, it wouldn’t be this obvious.
Oops.
It was time to go home, they resolved. No more dallying, no more dwelling on the past. They had a job to do, and they would do it so good. So good. There was lots to prepare for, and Lee’s first meeting with the rest of their team was tomorrow. They really had to get back into shape.
And they really had to say hi to Millie. They glanced at one of the public clocks, confirming that Millie was done with her medical training for the day. She’d probably be home now, helping mother cook dinner.
The image warmed Lee’s heart. Millie was always so kind, so ready to help. She was a lot like Starling in that way, and Lee only considered themself lucky to be surrounded by such wonderful people. And hell, maybe they’d eat one of their favorites tonight. Maybe Millie was making a curry.
The thought made their mouth water. Ain’t had a proper curry in ages. It was almost too much to take.
Lee sat down on one of the public benches and rummaged in their backpack. They wanted to be home as soon as possible, so it was time to practice rolling again. After some shuffling around of the main pocket’s contents, Lee found what they were looking for.
Two rectangular pieces of scrap wood with a wheel on each corner and straps to tie them to their shoes. Apparently in the old days there were shoes called roller skates with wheels simply built into them permanently, but Lee always thought that was a silly idea. Who had the room in their bag to carry around extra shoes?
This was far more convenient for sure. Lee strapped them on as tightly as they could over their boots and closed their backpack, swinging it on while they were still sitting. They hadn’t done this in a long time, and they expected standing up and balancing to be difficult for the first few minutes.
They had been right. Damn insightful, they could be. When they tried. Which wasn’t often. But, arms outstretched and knees wobbly, they stood. And they stood up straight for the first time in what felt like years.
And then they started rolling.
Oh. Oh god, I’ve made a mistake, they thought. It did take them a while to get used to being in motion like this again. But Lee was a champion, and get used to it they did. Soon enough, they were rolling through the city at breakneck speed, whooping with glee. It was just like old times.
And soon enough, they were home. This was it. Their hand shook as they knocked on the door. Would mother be happy to see them? They’d had their disagreements, sure, but Lee had been wrongfully incarcerated. That’s something no one wants for their kid, right?
But as they stood and waited for the door to open, they weren’t quite sure. They still had a room in this house, though. And for tonight, they wanted to be with their family. But was it too much to ask?
The door creaked open, leaving no more time for introspection. Millie towered over Lee in the doorway, her hair a kinky halo of maple-colored curls that had been pulled back from her freckled face. Her eyes widened as Lee grinned up at her, and she wasted no time sweeping them up into a crushing hug.
“My god, I missed you,” Lee said muffled into her shoulder.
They could feel Millie nodding. “I missed you too,” she said quietly. Her voice had deepened a little since her last visit, it was low and it was somber. But it was oh, so good to hear.
They released each other, Millie ushering Lee inside. “Mom’s out for the evening, actually,” she explained. “Which is probably a good thing right now.”
Lee nodded agreement. This way they’d have more time to plan how they’d face their mother after all this. “Yes, yes, yes. So it’s just us here then.”
“Yeah,” Millie said, all but skipping back to kitchen. Lee could hear the pot bubbling lowly and cheerfully, but the smell was off. Not curry, then. Drat.
That’s what happened you pushed your luck. Oh well. Maybe it just wasn’t a curry kinda day. Those days happened. Not often, but they did. It was a sad fact of life, but life was sad like that sometimes.
But it was a happy day nevertheless. Just being at home again was better than Lee had ever thought it could be. The chairs were comfortable, the light was dim, and the whole place smelled delicious. Even if it didn’t smell like curry. It just wasn’t perfect. But Lee had never demanded perfection, they just wanted things to be okay.
Things were pretty okay.
Millie chatted as she cooked, about this and that. What mom was up to, what Lee’s stepdad (and Millie’s real dad) was working on for city hall, and all that. Interesting. Millie’s dad was involved in the planning for the expedition Lee was going on. They sure hadn’t expected that.
Lee hadn’t told her they were going. Maybe now was the time. It had to be. Lee wouldn’t ever be able to forgive themself if they simply left Millie behind, forever, without a single word of warning. They cleared their throat, just as Millie was ready to move on to another subject. They had to do this well, so it wouldn’t be alarming. Millie got scared easily.
“Uh, actually. About that,” Lee said. Wow. Smooth.
Millie stopped stirring, turning her head in their direction.
“I’m part of it. It’s… It’s a long story,” they said. And all of a sudden, the evening felt like hell again. What had they gotten themself into here?
“You’re leaving?” Millie asked. Her voice sounded drawn tight, as if she couldn’t believe this blatant betrayal. Lee couldn’t believe it either.
“Yeah,” they said. It was all they could say.
“Oh. Is that why you’re here?”
Lee paused. “Yeah,” they said again. They felt horrible. How on earth could they have done this to themself? To Millie? And what, in the name of progress? They were all going to die anyway.
“Well,” Millie started. “I was going to tell you at my next visit.”
What? What was going on? Lee frowned. “Mil--”
“I’m signed up,” Millie confessed. “The medical team needed help.”
It crashed into Lee like a sledgehammer to the stomach. Millie? Easily startled, nervous Millie? What the hell was she thinking?
But then again, Millie was like Starling. Damn them both and their perpetually bleeding hearts. They just had to help, didn’t they?
“Oh,” Lee said. “How did that happen?”
Millie shrugged. “I volunteered. It’s a reasonable choice to make. Dad doesn’t want to see me go either, but he can’t stop me.”
“Mil, I…”
“I’m glad I get to go with you, Lee,” she said. “Life without you has been hard.”
Lee broke. “I know, I know, I know,” they said. “I’m so, so, so sorry. Fuck, Mil. We really in this together, ain’t we?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Guess we really are.”

They ate dinner in silence, Lee brooding over what this meant. Was this why the governor hadn’t balked at their request to see Millie one last time? How deep did this go, exactly? Who else was caught up in this giant web? On the other hand, could it really just be coincidence? Millie had a good heart. It would make sense that she’d sign up out of pure altruism.
Lee could never understand that. Lee knew they weren’t a good person. They often put themself first. It was just a fact of life for them. Human nature, or something, they guessed.
Still, they felt inferior.
Millie was an angel, and if they found out she had been tricked into this, there would be hell to pay.

Dark thoughts accompanied Lee to bed, but they had grown accustomed to sharing the space. The anger, the helplessness, they were just there. Lee had grown too tired to fight them, and in the end of it all, they kept them warm through the night.