Pinky Promise

Chapter 2 - Navigating Home

He had never seen someone so good at handling weapons just as good with kids. Then again, it was almost the same thing. You had to treat the two with respect in fear of hurting someone and they were both so very capable of causing damage. Almost irreparable suffering. Connor knew that. Only, one of them was capable of fixing broken things, oblivious to what they might have done.

Connor watched her through the glass of Lester's office, smiling as Becker spun her in the Field Coordinator's chair. Jess, he thinks. S­­­he had brushed Fern's hair to free it of any tangles, knots and pieces of bark better than he'd ever managed with his fingers. It was Jess that, while Connor and Fern were being subjected to a disinfectant shower, had gone to buy her some clothes.

It was only now, when he looked at her in a skirt and matching t-shirt that he could see how poor his stitching had been. The clothes they'd taken off her were the last reminders of Abby, permanently erased along with his own battered rags.

Why on Earth would we need a sewing kit? Connor had asked as they rummaged through their bag, looking for something – anything – useful. Abby explained it would be to stitch broken slings or tears in uniform. She said that Becker had called it a Housewife once but learnt from his mistake quite quickly. He was thankful for it when Fern arrived, not that he knew what he was doing but thought she needed something to protect her from the elements.

When he watched her now, he barely recognised her. Connor could actually see the light freckles on her nose, little pinpricks, enough for each day she had been alive. The little specks no longer hidden by a dusting of mud. When he couldn't bear to look at her, reminded only of her mum, her freckles were all he could see in the sky above as the constellations looked down at him. So beautiful it hurt.

"Temple? Are you listening to me?" Lester spoke, not angry as he remembered him.

Connor was back in the room suddenly.

"Yeah, sorry... I, uh, I am."

"Look, Connor," Lester leaned forward now, elbows on the table as his fingers fidgeted with his tie. "I'm not going to lie and say I understand what you're going through. I don't, no one does. I am truly very sorry about what happened to Abby, you have my deepest condolences but our work here has changed. You will always be welcome here and an offer will always be on the table with your name on it. No pressures, no strings attached. But, and I need you to listen very carefully, Fern comes first. Fern, then you, then us. Do you understand?"

There was an untidiness to Lester that Connor couldn't remember existed before. His tie not as straight or square as it might once have been, his jacket hugging the back of his chair instead of being worn, and the parting in his greying hair slightly off.

"Yeah. Yeah, I get it."

"We will help you through this. Whatever it takes."

"Thank you."

Connor could have sat in that office all day, melting into the leather chair and closing his eyes from the harsh lights. He would do anything to sleep for as long as they would let him, for as long as was possible.

"Oh, Connor! I had it seen to that your stuff was brought over from the old ARC. It's all there when you're ready. Becker will be able to take you there."

"Thank you."

Lester would usually clap his hands or fold his arms until he was left alone again, but he simply sat back in his chair and spun it around to look out towards Jess, Becker and Fern.

"She is beautiful, Connor."

"Mmm. She doesn't get that from me." He scoffed, standing slowly as he adjusted to having new shoes on his feet.