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joyfulsongbird · 4 years

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Bruises And All- Chapter 1

Hermes and Orpheus live above Herme’s bar by the ocean, which sometimes get hit by monumental storms. and when Hermes finds a girl in the woods caught in the storm, he doesn’t what kind of hurricane he’s bringing with him when she comes back with him.

***

HERMES is an old man, an old man who cares for a young boy who cares for music and for life. an old man who will spend the rest of his days repeating the same tasks over and over, his muscles only know how to wipe down the bar in one circular motion. he’s just stuck in a loop and he’s happy there, with his godson and the godsend that sent him this life of security in this little woodsy town. his boy will probably live out his days the same way, fingers grow aching from playing so much, voice growing strained over the years until he, too, is an old, old man and wipes down the bar every night before turning off the lights and wishing the room goodbye. he’s content with this life. with the forest on one side, the ocean on the other, it’s a life of little risk. terrible storms roll in from the ocean every once in awhile but the people call those “hundred year storms”. the name is pretty self explanatory: storms that happen once in every hundred years.

today is apparently that day.

“mister Hermes!” Orpheus calls from upstairs. “should I pull out the sandbags? Miss Afra said that there could be flooding.”

“I’ll do it, son, you stay upstairs.” Hermes yells back.

“but-”

“no questions asked, you get to bed, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Orpheus, the ever obedient, does exactly that. but Hermes knows that he won’t sleep for a long time, probably not until long after Hermes is home and in bed across from the boy. he worries, that kid, worries far more than Hermes would like. but it seems that is just his nature, to care so deeply that his soul hurts when he has to be separated from people.

Hermes wasn’t worried about the storm until he stepped outside with his flashlight in hand. winds going on dangerous speeds. rain pounding on his back like hard rocks. the darkness in the sky... it worries him, deeply. a typhoon is forming out there in that rocky ocean, for sure. he struggles against the wind and puts up a couple sandbags against the side of their home, the side that faces the beach. water falls over the wall of their brick home like waterfalls, streams through the concrete patches and blurring the engravings in the brick from view. and in a split second decision, he goes for some probably soaked through firewood. who knows how long they’ll be in that house for.

he’s got a few logs in his arms and is preparing to head back around the house when he lifts his head towards the forest. his ears must be tricking him, no one would be out in the woods at this time, in this storm? absolutely not. but the side of him that is a father, that worries as deeply as Orpheus does, itches to just check. it can’t hurt to just check? it definitely can but he’d rather go into those woods and find that lost child, than leave it and find out in a few days that a body has been found. if it’s what Orpheus would do, Hermes will do it too.

he drops the logs over by the door of their house, he’ll be back for those later. he hopes. and he heads directly into those woods, aiming his flashlight at the ground so that he doesn’t step into some chasm or trip over a root. he’s known these woods since he was a child but he never liked them at night, it always unsettled him. and now, he trudges through these woods in the pitch darkness of night and in the danger of a brewing hurricane. he’s about to call it a night, say he misheard, when he hears it again, clearer this time. closer this time.

please

no going back now. he won’t go back to Orpheus and his worried eyes and tell him that he left this poor person to the torture of this storm. how disappointed in him he’d be if he knew he ever considered it. having the boy in the house has made him a better person, convinced of the good of the world. growing up in the harshness of that town, hearing the opinions of other, and losing hope for the world, he’d lost hope in humanity. Orpheus is the reason he’s still hoping today. Orpheus is the reason he trains his eyes on ever crook and crevice of this forest. determined to spot this lost soul.

he expects a heep of a person. he expects a wet, soaking, helpless child all curled up trying to keep their warmth inside.

what he does not expect, however, is to have his flashlight knocked out of his hand, his knees crumpled under him, hands on his shoulders keeping him planted to the ground.

and then a voice, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry!”

there are so many feelings coursing through his body, but the main one: confusion. first, the yelling helplessness of the voice in the woods. second, the process in which he got swiftly knocked to his knees, expertly and quickly. and thirdly, the apology coming soon after having his flashlight knocked away, and the voice... a smooth, lovely voice he’d assumed would’ve come from a singer at his bar or a woman who reads audiobooks on the radio for a living. so many conflicting moments of juxtaposition just clash in his head and all he has to say in response is:

“e-excuse me?”

she lets go of his shoulders and he hears the shuffling around him, he’s unsure of what she’s doing until he feels his flashlight is put back in his hands.

“I-I’m so sorry,” she shouts over the wind, curling his fingers around the handle of the light for him. “I thought you might be... I’m sorry.”

he turns his light so that it shines on her. and he’s faced with a girl, not even a woman, about the same age as Orpheus, with rain falling over over her cheeks like tracks of tears and black hair sticking to her full cheeks. she blinks at the light, shielding her face with her hands. she’s shivering and soaked through, but holding herself strongly. she pulls him by his arms, pretending to brush a leaf off of his shoulder and steps back.

she’s tiny. is all he can think now that they are face to face, standing on the same level. her head reaches his shoulders, her small stature not helping her make up for height in any way.

he’s not going to leave her in this storm, no way in hell is he leaving this one behind.

“Come with me!” he shouts, motioning the same thing to get his point across in case she can’t hear him all that well. she glances from him to behind her, back into the darkness of the forest. like something is haunting her, as if there is a chain on her ankle, not allowing her to leave this place. Hermes wonders what there is that this girl is afraid of. he decides, however, that he will ask questions later and get out of this storm now.

He pulls her closer, grasping her shoulders with both of his hands, he is sure she can hear him now. “come. it isn’t safe out here. no questions asked about who you are, I can’t... I won’t leave you here.”

her lips part in what looks like confusion but one glance up at the darkness of the sky must convince her. she nods once and leans down to the forest floor to pick something up. he points his light to follow her hands, helping her only a small bit. she finds what she needs, a ratty old messenger bag that she clutches to her stomach as if it is the only thing in the world that matters.

and it occurs to him that it may as well be that much. he knows nothing of this girl. where she came from. if she even came from anywhere at all. he’s never seen her before but what does that matter? she looks lost and his entire life has proved that he quite has a soft spot for lost, lonely children.

he tries to grab her wrist, lead her out of the forest, but she rips herself out of his grip.

“I follow from behind.” the hardness in her tone doesn’t surprise him, exactly, he’s not shocked.

“How will I know you’re following?” he asks.

“where else do I have to go.” an answer that is good enough for him. he begins their walk out of the forest. now, they are facing the way the wind is coming from. the wind whistles in his ears, rain pounds against his face. his whole body feels like it’s fighting against this great wind, against the instinct to fall back and curl up and wait it out. but Orpheus is waiting for him to come home soon, he’s probably already worried sick, probably ready to burst out of the house and start a search party.

and true to her word, the girl is still there when they near the house. she’s shivering from head to foot but she’s there.

“do you live alone?” is her next question, an oddly out of left field one but he finds to qualms with answering it while he digs his keys out of pocket.

“no,” he says, beginning to unlock the door. “with my godson.”

“how...” she licks her lips. “how old is he?”

he frowns. “nineteen. why?”

she looks like she’s going to be sick.

he doesn’t open the door quite yet, “dear, you alright?”

“yes,” she says, brushing her soaked bangs out of her eyes. “yes, I am.”

he opens the door to the warmth of the bar, the dim glowing golden light that casts a hale of light onto the drenched ground around the doorway. “get inside, c’mon.”

she hesitates for a long few seconds before stepping inside, her whole body dripping (as is his) into the hardwood floor of the room. he closes the door behind him, and as if on cue, Orpheus comes running down the stairs, tripping over his feet.

“Mister Hermes-” he stops short at the sight of their guest. his eyes train on her, his mouth parted wide.

“Orpheus, would you get a couple towels please?” Hermes doesn’t even acknowledge the girl, he can already sense the fight or flight mode flying up in her. she twists the hem of her coat around her thumb, a blush spreading across her cheeks at her presence even being noticed. he has this strange feeling that she is not used to being noticed all that much.

Orpheus comes back with a couple of their ratty towels, his eyes never leaving the girl, on her always, on her face and just... watching. Hermes knows that Orpheus can be slightly... overbearing at times. he’s tempted to tell him to not stare at her so openly but due to the confusion of the moment and the fact that they have other priorities at the moment, he holds back.

“Orpheus,” he says his name again, getting his attention. “go downstairs and start up the furnace? we’ve gotta get some warmth back into this place.”

Orpheus nods, having said not two words since coming down those stairs and spotting the girl. Orpheus falls easily but this is one person that Hermes does not want Orpheus falling for. she’ll be gone within a week, he can tell.

“I won’t be asking you any questions,” Hermes says, turning to her. “you keep to yourself until this storm passes over, then you go where you please. alright?”

she nods. “alright.”

“I’ll get you some clean clothes, stay right there.”

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