Travelling with Sapphy was an experience unlike any other. It wasn't the hurried shopping trips he went on when Olive needed more muscle for supplies, or the stately visits he'd made back home. She moved through this world like a fish through water, a part of the crowd but still wholly her own self. He would have been lost in moments without her, but they weren't rushing; she pointed things out as they passed, taking his interests into account even while she provided her typical brand of Sapphy wisdom.

She took his hand. His heart did its usual flip-flop in his chest, the happy fluttering feeling he felt every time Saph initiated physical affection. Or physical anything, to be totally honest. Even against the dull gray background, even in a sea of people, his wife was so damn hot. Her hand drifted to her baby bump and he felt a small smile form on his lips. Life took the most unexpected turns sometimes.

He felt the change before they even stepped off the bus. He hadn't been trained by Birch for nothing, after all. He felt his body subconsciously tighten in tense preparation, an anxious wobble in the pit of his stomach. He had the urge to pull Sapphy close to his side, to shield her from the stares of the men on the porch, but he knew better than that. Sapphy wouldn't appreciate the sentiment, and it would only draw more attention to them. And besides, this was Sapphy's place, Sapphy's time. He followed close behind her, kept his focus on her.

He nodded slightly, confusion in his eyes nonetheless, at her instructions. But why would his voice get them into trouble? Were these men bandits? Was this really where his wife had been born, grown up? His heart felt brittle in his chest. This was no place for a child...





my father told me when I was just a child
these are the nights that never die