Groundlings

Now entering Death Valley, the sign up ahead read.
Well, Lee thought. That was pleasant and not at all ominous or intimidating. The sky above their head was a clear, bright blue without a single cloud in sight. The ground had turned from rich brown soil that was easy to dig up to a solid light yellowish brown clay that spanned on for miles and miles, with many great cracks running through it, like a piece of pottery that had fired in the kiln for too long.
It looked like the perfect location to have a race. Lee, as always, had gone with Sarah far ahead of the main body of the group and had found a rock to rest on and have lunch. It consisted of a few pieces of bread and a reasonably sized portion of jerky, made from a couple of deer the groundguards had taken down two weeks prior. They offered Sarah a few strips of it, but she declined, shaking her head.
“What’s wrong?” Lee asked.
Sarah shrugged. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m just not hungry.”
“Hm,” Lee said and stuffed a piece in their mouth. “Suit yerself.” The more for them, they supposed.
Sarah turned and looked up, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. “Say, Lee,” she said, nudging them with her other hand. “Do you see something back there?”
Lee frowned and followed her gaze, mimicking her shielding motion against the brightness. And there on the horizon stood a low, dark shape like oil spreading over water. They nodded, squinting to get a better look. They were able to pick out smaller, thinner shapes. Poles driven into the dry ground, some with crossbars on them. The main body, then, was a town of some sort. Lee stood up, tucking most of their food back in their bag. “We get a little closer,” they said.
Sarah nodded, gripping her shotgun in both hands in a ready stance as they creeped closer. If this place was inhabited, there was no knowing if they would be shot at. Lee followed Sarah’s example and kept their rifle at the ready, just in case.
As the two of them slowly neared, Lee thought they could make out shapes tied to the poles scattered about the landscape. Human shapes, some which hung limply and others that thrashed against their restraints. It was a grisly sight, and Lee suspected they would receive a friendly welcome in this place, whatever it was.
“Let’s go back,” they said. “I don’t feel good about this.”
Sarah nodded in agreement and they set off.
It was near sundown by the time they made it back to camp, sweaty and hungry and tired. Lee reported what they had seen to Anastasia, who seemed displeased with the development. Then again, Anastasia seemed displeased with everything. She released Lee from their service for the night and ran off herself, most likely to go report to Cate. Their route might have to change drastically depending on whether they were going to risk an encounter with the people of Death Valley or not.
It hit Lee like a ton of bricks while they were waiting for dinner to cook that this was where they were from. It simply hadn’t registered to them before. Their mother had fled from a settlement in Death Valley, she had told them, because it was a nasty place and everyone who lived there lived under someone else’s thumb. Lee turned to face the direction the town was in, though they could not see it anymore with the night approaching. Their hometown, they thought, stunned. Where they had been born. Hell, Lee thought. They had to see it up close, just once in their life. When would they ever be back again? Likely never, and that was the damned truth.
They ate their small bowl of stew, from a community pot shared with the Pope and Hawthorne families, as well as Millie and a few others, in silence. This was holy ground to them, almost. They had never thought they would ever see where they had come from. Lee had to shake the thought from their head, otherwise they would sit there zoned out all night and forget to sleep altogether.
To their side, Millie filled another bowl. For Starling. Lee stood up, reaching for it. “Hey,” they said. “I can take it to him. He’ll like seein’ me for a change.”
Millie paused for a minute, then nodded, handing them the bowl. “Yeah,” she said quietly.
“Any messages for ‘im?” Lee asked.
“Yeah,” Millie said. “Tell the poor fool to hang in there.”
Lee grinned wide. “Will do,” they said and ducked away from the circle. Their brisk walk through camp helped clear their head from the fog of vague childhood memories. The bowl of stew was warm in their hand, comforting and grounding when everything else seemed to have slipped away.
Lee found Starling sitting up in his cart, blanket drawn over his legs, fiddling with something in his hands. He had already put on some healthy weight since they had found him, and his face no longer looked pale and gaunt, his cheeks had taken some color back. He was still skinny, he likely would be forever, but he no longer looked like the slightest breeze would blow him away. It was good to see him recovering. They set the bowl on the cart bed by his side and pulled themself up to sit next to him.
Starling was whittling away at a stick. He had had kids gather them for him and they sat in a pile in the corner of the wagon, and he had taken to simply shaving the bark off them to pass the time. He looked up at Lee as they slid into the bed next to him and smiled.
“Hey,” he said. “Wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
Lee shrugged. “Well, ya know. Sometimes you just gotta be spontaneous.”
Starling raised an eyebrow at them and continued shaving away at his stick.
“... And stuff,” Lee finished with a grand flourish of their hand.
“And stuff,” Starling repeated. “Well, alright. Hey, thanks for the food.” He set down his knife and stick and picked up the bowl.
Watching Starling eat was painful. He slurped loudly, not caring that the broth dribbled down into his beard and on his shirt. The spoon barely saw a moment’s rest between the bowl and his mouth. Starling ate like a starving animal trying to gorge itself before the winter hit and everything was gone. It hurt to watch, but Lee could not tear their eyes away. This was what Finch had made of him. A wretch, cowering in fear of having everything he had worked for so hard all taken away from him again.
Poor thing probably thought he deserved it, too. Lee truly, deeply hoped he did not, but… Starling had always been a timid, sensitive kind of guy. He had simply rolled with the punches as they came. It would be of no surprise to them if he had rationalized his situation as punishment for being passive, for not stepping up as often as he thought he should have.
Lee wished there was a way they could tell him he was perfect. He was now, and he always had been. And them’s the damn facts.
Starling finished his stew and sat back, closing his eyes and sighing. Lee reached up with the edge of one of the blankets to try and wipe away some of the broth in his beard. “Starling, bud,” they said.
“Hmm?”
Lee sighed. “You gotta slow down, bud.”
Starling shrugged in response. “I can’t, Lee,” he said.
“Why not?” they asked.
“I dunno,” Starling said. “Feels too good to be true. Gotta eat it all before it disappears.”
They frowned deeply. “Disappears how? What would happen to it?”
“I could leave it for later,” Starling began, “but a bird could find it before I’m hungry again and steal it. Then I would have nothing to eat when I needed to.”
Lee laughed, reaching up to tap his nose. “Only bird that’d eat this shit is you, spuddy.”
Starling clicked his tongue. “Bird jokes, huh? Classic.”
“Ain’t it?” Lee asked, laughing. Bird jokes had been their favorite to tease Starling with, since he always took them without questioning.
“Yeah,” he said. “Reminds me of old times, just a little bit.”
Ouch. “Times sure ain’t what they used to be, huh?” They sighed and leaned over, resting their head on his arm. Starling didn’t protest.
“Neither am I,” he said. There was a certain finality in his tone that Lee found they were not a fan of. They knew that they could not hope to bring him to who and what he had been before. But they sure as hell could try and help him get better again, try and help him regain some of that blithe optimism and easygoing friendliness they had fallen in love with back then. And god damn it, nothing would stand in their way or so help them.
“Yeah,” they said finally. “Me either, though. A whole lotta things changed since you been gone, my man.”
He only nodded slowly, like his head stood on a rusty hinge. Lee could hear the creaking noise in their head. “And a lot of people have died,” he said.
That was also true. Starling had turned terribly grim. And who was Lee to blame him for it? Both of their worlds had been turned upside down completely when he had… Gone missing. Hell. He was sitting right here next to them, living and breathing, and Lee still thought of the incident as his death. Perhaps it had been, considering how hopeless and wretched he was now.
But there was still hope. He still joked, only not as much and not as well as he had before. But he did it still, and that meant that something of the old Starling Anderson was left in that nearly empty husk that sat in this cart wasting away while his wounds healed.
“Yeah,” Lee breathed. “They sure did. But hey,” they said, punching his arm lightly. “We still here, ain’t we?”
“I suppose we are,” Starling said. “Say, Lee?”
“What?”
“Could you do me a favor, please?”
“Sure, spuddy,” Lee said. “Anything you want.”
Starling lifted one of his frighteningly thin arms to gesture to Lee’s other side. “My cup is there,” he said. “Could you get me some water, please? My throat feels dry.”
“Of course,” Lee said, scooting down to the edge of the cart bed. For a moment they sat with their legs dangling over the edge, then they hopped down to the ground. Their feet hit hard and sent a small shock up their body, then they reached back up to snatch the cup away. Starling’s face twisted briefly as they did, a panic flooding those eyes as the corners of his mouth dropped. He did it instinctively, and Lee could tell he was fighting to keep from coming after them, but he stayed sitting still, not moving at all. It broke Lee’s heart that this had become his instinct.
They all but sprinted to the water barrel, dunking the cup in. They took a long drink from it themself, then refilled it all the way and headed back.
Starling thanked them when he accepted it, but he drank the same way he had eaten-- recklessly and desperately, without a regard to how quickly it would be gone and he would need more. When Starling finally lowered the cup it was empty and he sat for a moment, panting like he had just run five miles in the heat. “Hoo,” he said. “That was real good.”
Lee had not sat back down again. They expected him to need more, so they had stood by the side of the cart, peering over the edge at him. “Want any more?” they asked.
Starling sighed and then nodded, thrusting the cup back out toward Lee. They grabbed it again, and again he made that desperate face for a split second before they took off. It hurt just as much as it had the first time. Lee tried not to think about it as they dunked the cup in the barrel again, filling it to the brim and running it back to Starling.
Before they handed it to him, they made him look into their eyes. “Hey,” they said sternly. “Take it slow this time, aight?”
Starling blinked, clearly a little confused. “Okay,” he said. “I can try.”
“Atta boy,” Lee said, giving him the cup.
Well, he had just said he would try. He did try, Lee could tell. He did not try quite enough. The water wasn’t pouring into his mouth faster than he could swallow it anymore, but he certainly did not sip and he certainly did not put the thing down for a single second before he was done.
Well, progress was progress no matter how small, Lee supposed. They would have to remind themself of that periodically, they felt. Starling’s progress was going to be slow and that was okay. Lee was not powerful enough to fix everything, and they had to force themself to be okay with that. No one could undo what had been done, at least not quickly. But lord, they hated themself for what had happened to him, and they hated themself for not being able to do more for him now. So they kept him company, hoping and praying that it was enough for now.
Lee lifted themself back into the cart bed, scooting back to sit next to him again. “Hey, Starling?” they asked. It was serious. They rarely actually addressed people using their given names.
“What?” he asked.
Lee reached up to run a hand through his hair. It had washed and combed out marvelously considering the state it had been in when they found him. “Can I stay here with you tonight?” they asked. “I promise I can still make myself small.”
Starling laughed, but it turned into a cough. When he recovered, he said, “I don’t doubt that at all, Lee. You can stay if you want to, sure.”
“Okay,” Lee said. “I don’t even need a blanket, so you can keep all’a yours if you want.”
Starling hastily shook his head. “I don’t really need them,” he said. “That leg keeps me more than warm enough.”
Wow, Lee thought. That fuckin’ hurt. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind, spuddy.”
“I will,” Starling promised. He did not sound very sincere. “I’m… I’m gonna have to sleep soon, I’m afraid.”
“That’s okay,” Lee said.
“I’ve been fading so fast and so easily lately,” he continued. “I hate this.”
“I know you do,” Lee said. They took his hand and laced their fingers together. He squeezed. “It’s okay, Starling. You been through a whole lotta bullshit, and you’re real tired from it. Can’t be blamed for that.”
Starling sighed. “I guess,” he said. “Still doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Yeah,” Lee said. “That sure is true. Hey, mind if I get closer?”
“Go ahead,” Starling said. “You look kinda cold anyway.”
Lee scooted closer, drawing their legs up to their chest and resting their head on Starling’s shoulder. He reached around their own shoulders, drawing them a little closer still. It felt comfortable, safe, to be in Starling’s arms again. Lee sighed and closed their eyes. For a moment, everything seemed right.
And then Starling coughed again. His entire chest shook violently, and Lee could hear the rattle of slime loosening itself deep down in his lungs. Lee frowned, holding their head up away from him, lest the weight contributed to his problems.
“Lee?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Something wrong?”
“No,” they said. “Just figured you might need a little space. You know, so you can get it all out right and proper.”
Starling smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “I don’t really think about stuff like that.”
“You used to,” Lee said quietly.
The smile on Starling’s face fell again and he nodded his agreement. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I used to do a lot of things I don’t anymore.”
Lee sat in silence, not sure of what to say. They couldn’t bear to look at Starling, so they simply turned their head away, looking out into the night. They didn’t know how long this silent vigil lasted, whether it was mere seconds or half an hour. They felt like they were miles away from reality.
Starling coughed again, and their head whipped around. “I’m okay,” he said, holding up a shaking hand. “Hey, come here.”
Lee obliged, scooting closer to him again, though not as close as before.. “I can go if you need me to,” they said. “I ain’t gonna hold it against you.”
“No, no, no,” Starling said. “Stay, please. I don’t want to be alone.”
They sighed. “You’re sick.”
“I’ve been sick for months!” Starling said. “It’s nothing I’m not used to.”
“You poor thing,” Lee said. “I’ll stay, but I ain’t gonna lean on you or anything.”
Starling nodded. “I can live with that,” he said. “But first, some more water?”