(no subject)

[stbethadettes]

Once the door is closed behind them, Beth can't help looking back for a moment.

It just looks like an old rickety wooden shed, and out here, in the bright light of day, she remembers exactly how odd it was to step into the bar for the very first time when she'd been going through the back door of St. Bernadette's.

She wonders if Hero thought she'd lost her mind when she found the bar in there.

Surrounding them on all sides are rows and rows of corn, all the stalks taller than the two of them, and the sky is a pure cloudless blue.

Half-smiling at Hero, she nods. "Just us girls now, fearless leader."

Comments

[no-real-hero.livejournal.com]

"Hope you like corn. There's no shortage."

This is familiar territory. Really goddamn familiar, and she's not all that excited to be back here but at the same time, there's an urgency to things now. Her week out there -- up there? wherever the hell the bar is from here -- was really precious, but it was hard. Harder than the first time. It's strange, but she has to shield her eyes from the sun and it was nighttime there.

It'll just mean they sleep like the dead tonight, that's all. She's stayed in the hot suite before. It's not fancy accommodations, but it's a lot fucking better than almost everywhere else. The government knows how to do its thing.

Taking out her trusty low-tech compass, she turns to the northeast. "It's that way. See that silo just visible over there?" She'd give anything for a working GPS so she could pinpoint this exact spot: cornfields all look alike. The best clue to this particular field and this particular shed is its location due southwest of the hot suite's location. That... might not be good enough: she wants Beth and Beth Junior to be able to get back when they want to. She wants to be able to get back when she wants to. Setting down the backpack and reaching into a pocket, she pulls out an t-shirt ("Boston Marathon 2001") and rips it in half: the noise makes the baby giggle. "Yeah, your Auntie Hero isn't crazy, bebecita. She's marking the shed for you." If she stands on her tiptoes, she can reach the roof here: that's just what she wants. Rummaging around in the pack produces a hammer and nail; she nails that sucker right to the roof. The t-shirt's not waving around like a flag, but if anyone gets close they'll see it there... as long as they're looking for it. Otherwise, it'll just look like a shred of clothing. No big deal.

"One less t-shirt to have to wash." With a lopsided grin, she gestures to the silo. "There's only one way to get there and that's walk. You ready?"

She doesn't ask Beth how hard it was to say goodbye. First, it's none of her goddamn business and second, she already knows. She said goodbye to Quinn last night and that was hard enough. And she and Quinn don't have nearly as important a thing as Beth and Spike. If Beth wants to talk about it she'll sure as shit listen, but every woman on this planet's had to leave a guy behind, whether it be husband or lover or brother or father or uncle or nephew or cousin or friend. For them, it's just more of the same.