The Grey Edge: Chapter Forty-Eight
Shift. Shift to safety. Shift to safety. Shift to safety.
You’re already safe, genius.
Not far enough away. Totally not far enough away. He could probably still smell her. Shift to safety. Shift far away. Shift to the strange and mysterious land of Canada.
Why is Canada always your go-to spot?
I dunno.
The chair was pulled away from the desk, and her small hidey-hole exposed to the light. Light which would make her easier to find. She smushed herself further against the inside wall of the desk, trying to prevent any of the light from actually touching her.
The size of the hidey-hole expanded, the desk slipping and changing, growing enough for a grown man to hide in the safety of the desk as well. The desk stopped changing, and Ryan joined her in the not-quite-dark.
‘He’s going to kill me.’
‘No he’s not.’
She looked up at him through messy hair. ‘He’s going to kill me,’ she said. ‘He’s going to get his legs back, he’s going to get a band-aid, and he’s going to come after me.’
‘He’s not going to go after anyone for a while.’
She shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. He still will. This is why you don’t fight people in the wrong, cause it only ever turns out badly.’
‘Fighting those in the wrong is…pretty much our job description,’ he said. He pushed the hair away from her face. ‘Or did you forget that?’
‘You said I didn’t have to sign up for the save-the-world stuff.’
‘So what is your job then, Miss Mimosa?’
‘I swear if one more person call me Mimosa today, nah, it’s you, that one doesn’t count, with you it’s more like a meme than anything else.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
She shrugged again. ‘I don’t really know. I sort of bumble my way through every day and you pat me on the head and tell me I’m doing a good job. So…I guess I’m a professional bumbler. And we’re the good guys, I know that.’
‘You’re a lot better at this than you give yourself credit for.’
‘You showed me the dungeon-’
‘Basement.’
‘-and I showed you my lunch. I’m not great at this.’
‘And what about what you just did.’
‘Yeah, I’ve got so much conviction about that, that I’m still shaking.’
He wrapped his strong, warm hands around her small, shaking ones. ‘You’re ok.’
‘How much did you see anyway?’
‘All of it.’
She buried her face in her knees again. ‘It wasn’t me doing most of the talking.’
‘Were you quoting?’
She rested her chin on her knees and stared up at him. She slipped her hands free of his. ‘No, I mean…’ She felt her face scrunch up, and she slapped a hand against the side of her head. He knew. Still too hard to say out loud. Still too hard to normalise it. Accept that he didn’t want to lock her up.
He grabbed her hand to stop the slapping, then gave her a nod.
‘I still can’t believe I did that,’ she said. ‘Taylor. I mean. I did that. How’s Canada this time of year?’
‘You’re not moving to Canada.’
‘You’re not the boss of me!’
This made him laugh. ‘Yes, actually I am.’ He smiled. ‘And I can ground you.’
She felt herself smile. ‘You’d ground me?’
‘If you deserved it.’
‘Better than not deserving it.’ She looked up at him. ‘So, what happens now?’
He sighed. ‘In all honesty, I have no idea. Given the circumstances, I don’t think any decisions need to be made right now.’ She nodded, and the desk disappeared from over their heads. ‘Their return, however, has generated a lot of paperwork.’
She snapped a lopsided salute. ‘Okies, I’ll let you work.’
‘How’s that pile on your desk?’
‘Last of it disappeared this morning,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m up to date for the first time ever.’
He stood, and offered a hand down to her. She grabbed it and jumped to her feet, and stepped out of the way as the desk, covered with all of his papers, reappeared.
* * * * *
Ten Hours Later
Predator.
Someone was watching her.
Magnolia felt herself wake in a second, her eyes open, ready to fight whatever attacker was coming for-
Mimosa sat on the end of the hospital bed, a clipboard in one hand, a can of drink in the other. She kicked her leg, but the movement was slow, sloppy, sedated, not enough to knock the experiment from her perch.
‘Good morning to you too, Recruit,’ Mimosa said dryly. She waved the clipboard. ‘According to this, you aren’t supposed to be moving, and that includes trying to attack your superiors, so don’t do it again, k?’
She scowled. ‘You aren’t my superior.’
Mimosa reached into her pocket, retrieved her Agency ID and waved it about. ‘This says I am.’
‘And that means-’
‘Wow, zero to bitch in less than ten seconds, you are kind of impressive.’
‘And when did you grow a pair?’
‘You really should be nice to me,’ Mimosa said as she hung the clipboard back on the side of the bed. ‘I’m the reason you can walk and talk. I’m the reason you woke up at all.’
‘You mean you used an Agency resource for Agency reasons, congratulations on doing your job,’ she spat.
‘Oh yeah, cause there’s totally a paper trail about this. If this were all formal, your boyfriend would still be filling out the request paperwork, and the Parkers would have stuck you in the morgue.’
Her head pounded. ‘Just leave me the fuck alone, Mimosa.’
‘I only gave him a little bit of mirror to wish with, just in case he decided to do something…stupid. It was only enough to give you any chance at all.’
‘Generous.’
‘The Parkers did what they could, you should get them a gift basket or something-’
‘For doing their jobs?’
‘Tell me something, are you at all capable of gratitude?’
‘I’d be grateful if you-’
‘You can’t have kids.’
She shut her mouth, and glared at the girl. ‘What?’
‘It was one of the things the Parkers couldn’t fix. Sorry for being so blunt, but at least you’re fscking listening to me now. You had an egg inside, it shattered and ripped everything apart in there. Sorry.’
‘So long as I can walk and fight then-’
‘It’s not a choice that should be taken away.’
‘I’ve got more important things to-’
Mimosa shook her head and dug into her pocket again. After piling the bed with sugar packets, coffee beans and big lumps of lint, she held up a small silver sliver. A piece of mirror. ‘Practically everything else is going to heal with time, so much as your chart says,’ she rolled the small piece of mirror around in her palm for a moment. ‘Here’s your choice back.’
‘Why are you even here?’ she asked after the faux agent went silent.
‘Because this is the only time we’re going to have something in common,’ Mimosa said quietly.
‘Not sure if you’ve met Grigori,’ she said, layering the sarcasm heavily into her voice, ‘but agents can have-’
Mimosa lifted her shift, exposing the mass of scar tissue that ran across her abdomen and continued below her belt. ‘What part of this,’ Mimosa said, her voice cracking a little, ‘looks like I have a functioning reproductive system?’
‘Is this also why you look like a little kid?’
She put her shirt back down. ‘Says the girl who dresses like a doll? Yeah. I was twelve. I basically never went through puberty. I never had the choice. You should. You decide not to have kids, I don’t care, but you should get to choose.’
‘But I hate you.’
‘Yeah, well, duh. It’s mutual by the way.’ Mimosa took a step closer and dropped the small piece of mirror onto her chest. ‘But you’re on my crew.’
‘What?’
‘Ask Merlin.’
She lifted the small piece of mirror. ‘I could kill you with this.’
‘No,’ Mimosa said, ‘you really couldn’t.’
She held the piece of mirror for a moment, thought of trying to kill her anyway, then made the suggested wish.
‘I have one question, Recruit,’ Mimosa said.
‘Aide,’ she snapped, ‘and what is it?’
‘Do you actually realise you’re floating right now?’
She looked down at the bed, and found that was indeed, floating a foot off the mattress.
‘What did-’
‘You were floating before I came in,’ Mimosa said, ‘so don’t even think of blaming me.’ With a sour look, the faux agent shifted away.
* * * * *
‘I want a baby.’
Ryan signed off one more form, and watched it disappear. ‘A baby what?’
‘Baby baby. Regular kind. If there’s a regular kind. I just want one.’
He looked up at her, there were already tears streaming down her face. ‘Stef-’
‘I want one and I can’t have one.’
He shifted to her in a second, and wrapped his arms around her. ‘I highly recommend adoption,’ he said as she hung limply in his arms.
‘It’s not the same.’
He lifted her shaking body and carried her to the couch. ‘How can you say that?’
‘It’s what I was told,’ she said, ‘that it made me useless, that I wasn’t a real girl, that I didn’t get to be people if-’
‘Whoever said that was wrong-’
‘I don’t get to fix myself if I can’t-’ She wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. ‘I always wanted to have a kid, so I, so I could do it right…so I could make up for all the crap that my parents put me through. I thought that if I was good, if I made it up, if I…loved a child, if I gave it all the…that it would make up for it, and that it would fix me, and then I’d be people, and I wouldn’t be…me, I’d be better, I’d better, but I can’t, and I’ll never be and-’
‘You’re fine the way you are.’
‘I hate it when you say that,’ she said, ‘because I know it’s not true.’
He required a handkerchief and wiped at her tear-stained face. ‘Having children doesn’t define you, it doesn’t take away from the other things you have achieved, and it doesn’t, or shouldn’t, change the other things you want to achieve. Having a child is one aspect of life, of the lives of some. Do you think Patty is less…people because she has horses instead?’
‘Nope, but she’s not-’
‘Nothing you can do will make up for how your parents mistreated you, that’s something you can’t change. Having a child for that purpose is unfair, it’s using them, it’s an ulterior motive, and there’s more than a chance that they will feel slighted for it.’
‘But-’
He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. ‘With all of the magic in the world, when you grow up, and you decide then that you still want children, we’ll look into it. There’s also at any one time, dozens of children that the Agency has to find homes for, so you could take one of them in. There’s options, there’s always options.’
She wiped her face again. ‘How the hell do you do that?’
‘Do what?’
‘Take one of my massive problems and just make it GTFO like it was nothing?’
‘I’m your father,’ he said as he handed her a cookie, ‘it’s my job.’
She crawled into his lap. ‘Need moar hug.’
He wrapped his arms around her again. ‘Of course.’ He stroked her hair. ‘Besides, I’m not ready for grandchildren yet.’
Details!!!!!!!!!
Basically. Car accident. She went squish. Things inside her went squish and she nearly died.
Full details will come when I get around to writing the young!Stef novel (or book #8 if I manage to roll it into that).
…the hidey-hole bit. And hidey-holes. ^_^
Also, this chapter gives a +10 to Stef’s humanity. 🙂
…are awesome. 😀
I can’t be the only one who used to hide under my bed because it seemed, like, secret down there? I found it to be an awesome place to read, except when it was too dusty.
Also, this chapter gives a +10 to Stef’s humanity. 🙂
It’s also sort of wibble-inducing, it wasn’t the easiest chapter I’ve ever had to write. -_-
…couldn’t fit under my bed, it was too low. But my brother’s offered enough crawling space. My secret spots weren’t really secret, I used to build forts in the middle of the living room and call them “hiding houses”, but they were dark enough to have a secrety feel.
It’s also sort of wibble-inducing, it wasn’t the easiest chapter I’ve ever had to write. -_-
Well then, you should get extra cookies for it. And wuv from all of us, you rock! ^_^
…there were hall cupboards, and I found out that, by being careful, I could lock them from the inside, and no one would know where I was. It was kind of awesome. 😀
Neat! ^_^
I found out could lock a closet from the inside when I was a kid, but it was really creepy in there. Lots of old stuff hanging around. Great setting for reading horror stories though. 😀
…unless I had random thoughts about what might be behind me (in the monsters-under-the-bed way, not in the Narnia way), and that generally freaked me into finding a more secure spot.
I had a waterbed, the base opened for storage, I used to go there to read with a flashlight all the time. fell asleep there a few times, freaked out my mom, who spent hours looking for me. whoops.
that… explains a lot about stef. I kinda wondered. Thanks!
…though I would have worried about the waterbed sort of oozing along and coming down to crush me. >_>
that… explains a lot about stef. I kinda wondered. Thanks!
Which is why I’ve been hanging out to write this, because most everything else falls into place after you know this bit.
Ok. Therefore the major crazytime was pre-car-crash, thus 0<12 YO. Damn.
Sad, sad, sadity sad. 🙁
Why did her crazy body get translated over to agentness? Shouldn't she be kind of healed? Or at least couldn't she use the mirror now?
So at least this explains the lack of sex drive, but I don't remember any descriptions of over-child-like-ness. Perhaps I was just skim reading a little over certain parts... 🙁
…it’s all kind of suck.
Basically Stef’s life goes: Birth, car accident, crazy, boarding school, suicide attempt, recruited, dead, agent. -_-
Why did her crazy body get translated over to agentness? Shouldn’t she be kind of healed? Or at least couldn’t she use the mirror now?
It was basically a direct upload and download of Stef-that-was, if everything had been fixed and normalised, well, bold voice would be gone too. >_>
She could use the mirror…but she’s terrified of it not working and is kinda accepting that she can’t even take care of herself, let alone another person.
So at least this explains the lack of sex drive, but I don’t remember any descriptions of over-child-like-ness. Perhaps I was just skim reading a little over certain parts… 🙁
It’s nothing overly overt, references to how small she is, underdeveloped/not well proportioned, short, etc. She could easily, easily pass for 15, if not younger.
Yeah, Bold voice would totally be gone…. I’m paranoid, so I’m sticking with my separate being idea.
Ah, I see about the description. I’m surprised that she isn’t mistaken for a child more…
…ok, since you’re a vocal proponant of the “bold voice is a separate being” theory, I’d like to hear your theory. As stated before, it’s not, she’s just crazy. But…what kind of thing do you think is colonising her brain?
werewolf fungus.
(gamming guardians ftw. )
…wouldn’t bold voice only appear once a month? She’s be like a were-sane-person?
I’m not sure. I suppose it is probably some benevolent (or at least currently benevolent) powerful magical being, who either has:
sworn to look after her,
is indentured into the same,
is somehow bonded to her mind, either willingly or not,
or has an interest in her well being, possibly so she can be used by them in the future.
I don’t really know… I’m just wary of taking anything at face value…
…totally not as crazy/epileptic trees as I thought you’d go with.
See, I thought you would have gone with something like: since baby!Stef was healed by the Parkers after coming back to life, that the voice is somehow the system looking after her. >_>
I would wager, dollars to any kind of baked good, that if someone else was writing this, that Bold Voice would have been somehow externally induced, that there would be some other reason for this to be, other than just teh plain crazy.
…, no, I’m not into making crazy assumptions (most of the time). It’s just, as a D&D player, I have been trained not to take anything at face value, and treat everything as a Chekhov’s Gun, even after I’m told it isn’t.
In this situation, I understand that Bold Voice need not be an external force to be a Chekhov’s Gun, and that perhaps there is a better way of describing its significance in terms of trope terminology, but I think that the basic point still stands…
Also, I really do like that idea you just mentioned. That is not only (relatively) sensible, but also pretty cool. It’d be like a god was watching over her – the entire force of the angels stopping her from getting herself killed. Huh.
…his whole armoury as a matter of fact. I know some Chekoving is inevitable in any piece of fiction, but I hate watching shows (W13 and Eureka are particularly bad for this) and spotting the new, weird thing in the first five minutes and know that it’s going to blow up the town/save the day. It kind of takes the mystery out of life. -_-
I do try and avoid it as much as possible, or at least, set things up for much later down the track, so something may get introduced, but won’t be relevant/used for ages to come. (Now you’ll be trying to figure out what those are…).
I understand that Bold Voice need not be an external force to be a Chekhov’s Gun, and that perhaps there is a better way of describing its significance in terms of trope terminology, but I think that the basic point still stands…
Great, now I’ll be thinking about tropes all day…
I like Bold Voice because I’ve got a character with a voice in her head that isn’t evil, or entirely counter to the “main” personality (ie, Bold Voice isn’t some oversexed party girl who tries to encourage Spyder to go wild every other night).
Also, I really do like that idea you just mentioned. That is not only (relatively) sensible, but also pretty cool. It’d be like a god was watching over her – the entire force of the angels stopping her from getting herself killed. Huh.
Mind you, it isn’t the truth, but it’s a possible theory if you want to hold onto your hope. It’s just the same as me making an arguement that Taylor and Stef are two interpretations of the same original character (again, not true, but an arguement can be made).
I like some things in this ‘verse having a non-magical explaination – heck, for a lot of things in the Mirrorverse, magic is merely the circumstances, not the cause, solution or whatever. 🙂
personally, bold voice is the sane one. but no, not if its WoD werewolves.
Well Stef doesn’t like other people to lose the big choices, even those she hates. Nice that Magnolia was able to make the correct wish, and that heart just keeps getting smaller.
I think the moon might be safer from Taylor, just take him a few more days to get there than canada.
Nice that Magnolia was able to make the correct wish, and that heart just keeps getting smaller.
And it’s going to get a lot smaller after *duct-tapes mouth*. I SAID NOTHING, IGNORE ME, IGNORE ME, OH LOOK AT THE CUTE PUPPIES.
I think the moon might be safer from Taylor, just take him a few more days to get there than canada.
*irl lol*
But, but…she’s be able to see him coming the whole time, raging his way across space, so there’d be a terrible inevitability to the whole situation.
…
*moar irl lol*
I’m wondering why Stef didn’t get some hormone replacement treatment during puberty. Or did she get it? Or did it clash with all the psychiatric drugs she was given? Or did her parents, once losing any chance of having a trophy child, just didn’t give a fuck? 🙁
Agggghh…dammit, so much of this is covered in Make Believe (the young!Stef novel I have to get around to writing), actually that whole book is pretty much about that, it starts with the accident, then has her meeting Peter Pan, and other stuff.
Basically, it fills in every hole and lingering question you might have about Stef’s backstory.
But I think I can still answer most of this.
This happened due to the car accident – she says this above, and she was pretty messed up otherwise, so stayed in hospital for ages. During this time, there was this horrible nurse (Nurse Ratched-level horrible) nurse who found out that she was barren, and basically started referring to her as a boy, telling her she was useless as a girl, that she wasn’t a proper girl any more, etc.
You’ll notice that Stef does repeat some of this throughout the series – it imprinted during probably what was her most vulnerable time in her life, and it’s stuck deep – it’s the reason she has a not-quite dysphoria about her body and gender (crux of the issue being, she identifies as a girl, but believes that she’s not good enough to be one/can’t be one).
So when they started her on HRT, she just used to chuck the medication down the sink – there were times were she couldn’t avoid taking them, cause she was being watched, etc, but she managed to get rid of most of it. And when she went to boarding school, she was left in charge of her own regimen, so just didn’t take any of it.
And thus we have Stef as she is.
🙁 🙁
You think it’s sad just from that?
Wait until you actually read Make Believe, I’m convinced that the entirety of the Cookie readership will dissolve into one big puddle of wibbles and tears.
Make Believe?
OK, got it. Young Stef novel.