The first thing Anne heard was steps.
Distant, muffled through layers upon layers of linen, Safeguard, and fluff. On dirt, on snow, on carpet which increasingly became more of the former two by mass with each passing day.
Eventually, other sounds began to join in as well. Shuffling, clanks, thuds of wood against wood and flesh against flesh. Squeaks, growls, rattling of rock against itself in a way that most only perceived as intimidating noise but which was only meant as the warmest, most sincere greetings.
Voices.
She had no idea for how long she laid there, or even if she’d truly heard any of it. It was too vague to make much out of; could’ve been her mind playing tricks on her in hindsight. Ultimately, it didn’t matter either way—she was here, on something soft, surrounded by blissful warmth, and so, incredibly, exhausted. The more her consciousness returned, the more she wanted to recede further under the thin blanket, to stem the unwelcome tide of awareness that refused to let her rest in peace.
It only worked for a few moments, and even that was an overly generous description. Eventually, her tired self had no choice but to finally give in, to face the new day and its—
...
...
Wait.
Anne came to with a gasp, eyes snapping open before immediately clenching shut at all the light that assaulted them for daring to do that. Removed from the numbing fog of unconsciousness, her mind soon snapped back to action, resuming from the last thing it remembered.
The thirteen voices, loving and cruel and everything in between, debating on her fate.
Was it over? Had she just dreamt up the vote, and it was still yet to happen? Was everyone preparing to toss her out of this sanctuary to fend for herself? Was she—was she safe? Even as Anne’s heart jumped to full intensity in response to these thoughts, her mind found itself unable to dive deeper into them right away.
Not with the sight that awaited her once she’d finally paid attention to what she was looking at.
A second bed, awkwardly placed a few feet from hers, at an angle. On it, Aria, asleep and disheveled. Anne didn’t think the Gardevoir hairdo would always remain as well composed as it was in the textbooks, but this was something else, something messier. Unkempt, shinier than before, shaking. Her expression was tense and narrowed, her breaths as rapid and anxious as Anne’s were just moments earlier. She was still asleep, and yet looked like she was panicking—
“^She is exhausted, and struggling with a bad dream right now,^” a dry voice spoke, taking Anne aback; her gasp only barely kept in her throat. Before adrenaline could even finish grasping her body, she was already scanning around the room for the source of the sound. She could’ve sworn she’d heard it before, but who... oh.
Despite having her glasses on, Anne couldn’t make out all the details of the Delphox sitting in the shaded corner. They looked... calm, as far as she could tell, but that in itself clarified woefully little. The more she stared at them, the more her recollection tingled, taking its sweet time pushing through the quickly solidifying concrete slab of traumatizing memories of the vote and the discussion that preceded it.
Guess Ember’s mom sitting here and looking after her made some sense with what she’d said yesterday.
Both because of her promise to look after her, and—as her senses soon pointed out to the girl—because of Ember being here, too. Anne could feel her shuffling behind her, slowly following her towards awareness. The Delphox being here made sense, but wasn’t any less unnerving because of that. And Cinder was well aware, leaning back against the wall to give the human as much space as she could.
“~Y-you meant that about Mrs. Aria, r-right?~” Anne asked, prompting a slow nod in return, followed by a drawn-out sigh.
The tension lingered in the air for a while longer; neither of the conscious minds were sure what to ask or tell the other. Thankfully, time was the one resource they both had in abundance, especially with the sun taking its time crawling from behind the horizon.
Anne remained quiet, administering Ember some more affection to calm her—and herself—down. As serious and composed as the older vixen tried to remain throughout her duty, not even she could resist cracking the tiniest, most diligently hidden smile at seeing her daughter be treated with all the love she deserved.
It would be a long while until she’d have anywhere near as much fondness for the little human as Ember had. All the good will in the world could only do so much to undo years of self-inflicted conditioning to hate Anne’s entire species, for reasons equally understandable and yet incorrect.
Cinder wasn’t deluding herself about that, but knew she didn’t have to.
Right now, all she had to do was keep the human safe, and liking her would, hopefully, come with time. And until then, some explanation wouldn’t hurt, “^I am here to look after you while you, and everyone else, settle in. Just in case someone... unhappy with the decision thinks about expressing that violently.^”
That made sense, yes, as much as the very idea of a villager lashing out at her terrified her. With that bit of self-inflicted nightmare fuel, though, came a realization, one that made Anne’s eyes go wide. She asked, “~W-wait, does that mean that—that I’m safe here?~”
A very firm, very exaggerated nod. “^The vote concerning your permanent stay here has indeed passed, yes. Winnie was none too happy with that decision, but now he’s left licking his wounds in a house arrest. It remains to be seen what will happen to him...^” Cinder explained. As she droned on, recounting the events that would remain burned into her memory forever, she noticed Anne grow increasingly unsure of what she was even talking about. Must’ve either dozed off before that entire embarrassment, or her memories had spared her from it all.
“^Either way, not something for you to worry about, Anne,^” the vixen continued. ^”You’re safe, you’re set to remain here for good, and many here will do their best to ensure your safety, myself included.^”
As shameful as needing to ‘ensure safety’ of an innocent child was, thinking about that wouldn’t do anyone any good. A fact that Anne’s mind was, unfortunately, unaware of.
Worries refused to let go of her as she acknowledged the vixen’s words before looking at her guardian. As she took in the miserable sight once more, the one functional hand scritching Ember between her ears, she felt the fox stir behind her. She asked, unnerved, “~Wh-why is Mrs. Aria here?~”
Cinder just sighed, her head slumping. “^We asked her to go home and get some proper rest once the vote was over, but... she refused. She clung to you, didn’t want to let go even after all the dust settled and the ceremony was over. We brought a bed here so that she could stay the night, thought it might just be some residual stress... but she kept waking up and checking on you, heart racing each time. Exhaustion finally knocked her out good just a couple hours ago, and she’s been like this since.^”
Anne’s eyes grew wider with every word, the image being painted only providing further fuel for the flames of worry. “~I-i-is she gonna be alright?~”
“Of course she—*yaaaaawn*—she will, Anne, mumble mumble...” the translated woofs muttered into Anne’s side. The sound finally snagged her attention away from her guardian and back to her friend, right arm immediately pulling her into the tightest hug the girl could manage as the fox continued, “Everything will be alright now, mumble mumble...”
As much as Anne wanted to believe that assertion, she couldn’t.
Despite Ember’s warm, loving comfort, despite Cinder’s cold, rational reassurance... she just couldn’t. Nothing was ever as simple as that, no problem as all-encompassing and anxiety inducing as what she and Aria and so many others had just been through ever got solved so easily or so definitively. If they even could get solved at all, that is.
Something more still would happen, right? It had to; her mind refused to even consider an alternative option. No way this was over, no way she was actually safe, there was still more pain ahead of her, there must’ve been, there was no way there couldn’t be!
Ember was too drowsy to make out anything concrete from the muck in her friend’s mind, and Cinder had woefully little idea of how to address it. Of course sating Anne’s worries would require more than this, but it wasn’t something she knew how to help with beyond what she’d already done—
Before she could even try anything, though, the room’s entrance sliding open cut her off mid-thought.
Anne had glimpsed the Blissey that had just walked into the room a few times, and already had much to thank her for. Such as for her current shirt being... modified to allow her cast arm to slip through the sleeve. In a destructive way, sure, but it was much better than nothing. Now that she thought about it, they—or someone else—would most likely have to do something similar with at least a couple of other shirts. This one was growing due for a wash, as was the human that wore it on the whole.
Something to tackle later. Hopefully Ember and her better sense of smell doesn’t mind...
“Your arm, please,” the Blissey requested. Anne complied right away, the healer glancing at Cinder with a brief, appreciative nod.
As the human and the Braixen beside her looked away from the unsightly mess underneath the cast, the Normal-type thought to herself, arms working on autopilot. Rather hesitantly at that, a fact not missed by the girl, even as she tried her hardest not to pay attention.
She was being healed, and that’s all that mattered. Couldn’t expect everyone to like her, after all. Both because of course not everyone would, and because of course some people would dislike her in particular...
Unaware of the self-consciousness lashing out against its host beside her, the Blissey kept working—and paused with a sigh. No matter what her past experiences have been, the human would be staying here for the foreseeable future. Might as well take a moment to sort herself out while she had the opportunity. “So... you’re staying for good, is what I’ve heard being whispered around?” she asked.
The elderly voice made Anne blink her mental murk away as she replayed the words in her head, nodding as firmly as she could without disturbing her injured limb. “Good, good,” the healer responded. “Hopefully, your arm will make a full recovery in not too long, but of course you never know with injuries this severe.”
Not very reassuring, but neither was life. Still, Anne wanted to thank the... healer for her efforts, “~Y-yeah. Th-thank you for helping me out, M-Mrs... B-Blissey.~” She was nigh-certain she’d heard their name at some point during her stay so far, but couldn’t recall it for the life of her.
“It’s ‘Esther’, and... you’re very welcome, Anne. I’m glad you’re staying; you’ve been nothing but sweet so far,” Esther corrected, the tiniest hint of a smile creeping onto her slightly wrinkled face as she redoubled her efforts. “Have to admit, wasn’t too... eager at the start when Sprout first brought you here. More than a bit of sorry history with humans on my end, used to work in one of their hospitals not too far from here.”
Anne blinked at the Blissey’s words, unsure how to respond as the Normal-type continued, “Left me quite soured about you all over the years, was so glad to escape once I figured out a way to sneak out of that place. Though, in hindsight... *sigh*, the more I think about it, the more I realize it was just a couple doctors and nurses that made it all a pain. Two interactions a day with pieces of shit get dwarfed by dozens upon hundreds of pleasant ones with everyone else. Or I suppose, as pleasant as can be while being considered a mindless animal. Either way, it’s the former that really linger in the mind, and the latter you never reminisce about.”
The Blissey chuckled to herself, giving the entire injury one last look before wrapping it in dressings and bandages again. “Suppose, if nothing else, a reminder to keep proportions like these in mind. For every awful day, there are plenty more fine ones, and the more we remember that, the more sane we’ll remain, eh?”
While Cinder slumped in her seat with each passing word, Anne remained just as stunned as she’d been one moral lesson earlier. She was simultaneously glad that the Blissey got better, and very... confused about why it was her that the healer came clean to about all this. Guess her not hating humans anymore was good news, just the sort that probably would’ve been best kept inside her head... “~U-uh... yeah. That—that sounds... wise,~” Anne stammered, staring at the floor.
Esther didn’t have to receive another intense dose of mild discomfort to realize her faux pas, pausing as she hurriedly tried to figure out what to do next. Apologizing was an option, but one that would’ve probably just made it all even more awkward—guess a change of topic would work? Yeah, let’s try that. “Yeah. Uhh... something I’ve been curious about for a while actually, if you could help me out with it... d-dear.” Esther changed the topic, her swerve neither subtle nor missed by Anne.
Still, the human appreciated it, as did the Delphox in the corner. “~O-oh? How can I help, Mrs. Esther?~”
After taking a while to mull through the best way of asking it, the Blissey went with the most direct question, speeding up her motions, “Would you know what day it is today?”
Now that was something Anne didn’t expect to be asked; the wrench the question threw into her thoughts was very appreciated. It required a bit of thinking to figure out—she’d ran away and crashed on the night of twenty-ninth, before waking up an unknown amount of time later. She’d gone through traumatic events A, B, and C, with X days of coma in between A and B. How long did it all last? Just had to solve for X.
“~How long did I sleep for b-before I first woke up here—i-if you’d know, Mrs. Esther...~” she whimpered.
The Blissey tapped her foot on the carpeted floor as she thought back; the variable in Anne’s equation soon clarified. “Well, Sprout found you before sunrise a few days ago, then you slept that entire day, and woke up screaming the next morning if memory serves.”
One day then, alright. Anne nodded at the clarification, crunching numbers in her mind before Ember chimed in, disheartened at what she’d just heard, “A-Anne woke up screaming? Oh no, w-was she scared?”
“No sweetie, it wasn’t that. Her arm got roughed up something proper, and it needed more numbing than we expected, so it hurt like mad and woke her up,” the Blissey explained as she wrapped up her handiwork. The injured limb in question was now a bit less achy, a bit less dirty, and—hopefully—a bit closer to regaining full function.
“O-oh, oh no... Anne, does it hurt a lot?” Ember asked as she slid up to her human; ears flat against her head. She finally dared to take another look at Anne’s left side, now that the healer was done with her unsightly task. “D-do you want me to not touch it?”
“~Thirty, one, first—oh? Oh, d-don’t worry Ember, it actually doesn’t hurt l-like this. I don’t know how bad it’ll be if someone touches it, but it should be alright,~” Anne reassured. She wasn’t anywhere near as certain about her claim as she wished she was, but tried to not let that show. At least it wasn’t her dominant arm, thankfully. As she provided her friend with some more affection, she went back to finish her thought from earlier, finally arriving at a concrete date, “I-if I got it right, it should be February 2nd, 549 today, Mrs. Esther.”
In truth, the girl didn’t know if the Blissey would even understand the date—but considering she explicitly asked about it, Anne hoped she would. As the healer stared wide-eyed at nothing in particular, finally realizing just how long it’d been since she first arrived here, the human had her own revelation. The date lit up a small lightbulb inside her mind—cloudy, weak, but still present despite the world’s best efforts to the contrary.
Her birthday was just eight days away.
The day meant little to her anymore, never did. Even back at her grandma’s place, they weren’t exactly swimming in money, so her birthdays were far from extravagant. Still, they always included at least one gift—most often a toy she’d spotted on one of the three channels their old TV could tune to and wouldn’t stop talking about—a small cake with her name on it, delivered all the way over from Mistralton, and a hearty snack for Ember. Nobody knew when the Fennekin’s birthday was, so her grandma figured she might as well make it one day of celebration for them both.
Not much, but lovely enough to sting her eyes a bit as she thought back to it.
And then once... once grandma Lisa was gone, and she was back with her parents, the day almost stopped having any meaning whatsoever. Not even Anne herself really acknowledged it anymore. It was only Mrs. Graham that ever made an effort to celebrate the day, gifting her some fancier art supplies than spare notebook pages and store-brand pencils.
Would she let anyone know about this? A part of her wanted to, the inward impulse of wanting that happiness, that celebration, these—these gifts too, as selfish as that was to admit. But… the people here had already done so much for her. Patched her up, looked after her, and argued for her safety despite her not belonging here.
Another glance at Aria. Still squirming in her sleep, still anxious.
They had saved her life! The last thing she wanted to do was to keep asking for more, to be even more of a burden to everyone here. To force everyone here to do even more for her—*squeeze!*
The tight, blissfully warm embrace made it difficult to focus—as intended. “^B-but we’d all love to help you out Anne, a-and get you something for your birthday!^” Ember squealed, her excited, telepathic words only making Anne wince.
It was a sweet gesture, but utterly mismatched compared to the human’s sour, dour mental state, eager to use the fox’s goodwill to bash itself for all kinds of perceived slights. The fact wasn’t lost on the vixen, making her hold her friend even tighter, even firmer.
As the two girls fought the sludge sloshing inside Anne’s skull, Esther continued, blissfully oblivious to everything going beside her, “Hmmm. How old are you again, Anne?”
A lifeboat away from the mental storm, a merciful distraction. “~U-uh... I-I’m ten, almost eleven.~”
“Huh! Well, considering your history, I suppose it makes sense for you to be smaller than I expected. Thought you were about nine or so. Malnourishment doesn’t help either. Eat well, and hopefully you’ll regain the missing height as you grow—”
The loud steps approaching from the room beside theirs caught Cinder’s attention. They almost made her get up to apprehend whoever was about to walk in on them—before she sighed and leaned against the wall once more. Even if she wanted to stop the approaching force of nature, she sincerely doubted she’d been able to.
*rust-RUSTLE*
“GOOD MORNING, SUNSHINES!” Holly shouted, waking all the souls still trying to get some rest in the healers’ tent. “Gotta celebrate the news in some proper way! There ya go, girls, enjoy your meals!”
It took both Anne and Ember a while to act, even after the bundle of delicious-smelling food was offered to them. The buttery, sweet scent that the Azumarill had brought with herself helped in melting through the deadlock their minds were stuck in, though. Taking care not to tilt it too much, Anne grabbed her portion, setting it on the bedding beside herself. “~Thank you, M-Mrs. Holly—~”
“Doncha fret it, Annie! Now that I know I got you here in walking range for good, doncha doubt I’ll do all I can to get something more than skin on those bones of yours! Can’t have ya starving under my watch, haha!” Holly giggled. As Anne smiled to herself at the gesture, she spotted Aria anxiously looking around the room, startled into a sitting position by Holly’s arrival. The Azumarill didn’t notice, though, continuing, “Aaaaaand, if ya got any of your fancy-schmancy human recipes in that noggin of yours, I hope ya gonna share! I’ve already improved a bunch of them, been itching to get my paws on more!”
A lack of response, or even any attention, finally clued Holly to what was going on, the scene that awaited behind her making her chuckle, “Good grief Aria, you look like you could use a pick-me-up too! Maybe I need to grab some of that juice I made for Annie here a couple days back and pour you a portion or seven, eh?”
Despite Holly’s best efforts, the Gardevoir didn’t respond, the dazed exhaustion clear on her features. The Azumarill wasn’t the one to give up on cheering someone up, but was well aware that her efforts would be better spent elsewhere—such as on making due on her offer while Aria came to. “Don’t have to not tell me twice!” Holly chuckled. “Hopefully won’t take too long to get everythin’ ready. Take care, y’all!”
“Th-thank you, Mrs. Holly!” Anne added, wanting to give the Azumarill her courtesy, no matter how worried she was. Her timid wave returned right away as the cook took her leave. With the cook gone, Anne’s gaze swept around the room once more, finding the Blissey healer absent as well, to her surprise. Must’ve left when everyone was distracted by Holly. She thought little of it, though, not with the entirety of her focus now placed on the Gardevoir. “~M-Mrs. Aria?~”
The Gardevoir’s small gasp startled the two girls, their surprise at such a reaction soon turning into further concern. Thankfully, it was enough to snap the psychic back to reality with a few confused blinks, dazzled shock soon giving way to relief at seeing Anne here with her. Safe, at last.
“^G-good morning, Anne. How—how are you feeling, sweetie?^” Aria asked, giving the human girl the most confident smile she could muster—pitiful enough to worry Anne and Ember even further—before slowly sitting down beside Anne, shaking arms weakly wrapping around her.
The gesture was as magical and pleasant as she’d grown to expect from the Gardevoir, but... there was something missing. It’s as if much of her warmth was gone, replaced with a pretense of one, a fake comfort that couldn’t even sustain itself, let alone the fearful girl beside her. Anne responded, concerned, “~I-I’m doing okay, Mrs. Aria. A-are you okay, though? You look tired.~”
“^No no, I’m—I’m doing fine. B-but are you sure you are, Anne? R-really alright?^” Aria’s voice wavered in a way Anne—or Ember for that matter—hadn’t ever heard from her before, the sound putting them on edge.
The human girl was especially unsure of what to do. She’d just answered her; both of them knew on a logical level that she was safe now with the vote being over. “~Yeah! Still need to calm down a-a bit, but I’m really alright. The vote passed, right?~”
“^Yes, it did,^” Cinder confirmed, her words firm and immediate. They provided some well-needed reassurance to Anne while startling Aria even further. The human girl almost gasped at how tight she was held in response to the Delphox’s voice. How shakily.
The Gardevoir insisted, “^B-but is it really over? N-no way it is, we—we have to still be on the lookout...^” Her words didn’t even feel like they were aimed at anyone but herself, muttered and disjointed. It was all as confusing as it was disheartening for Anne—it felt like Aria couldn’t hear her, like something just wasn’t clicking, so unlike her.
Before her worries could grow further, two voices spoke up—one concerned, “M-Mrs. Aria, are you really alright?” and one much more to the point. “^Aria. Please, you’re not doing well right now. You need to take some time off from all this—^”
The moment the Delphox stood up, there was an immediate shift in the room’s atmosphere. Anne might’ve only wished she was psychic, but even she noticed the air turning from uneasy to being an inch from violently exploding from all the tension—and much of it was coming from the Gardevoir she was so worried about. She had no idea what to say; she wasn’t sure she even wanted Aria to be here with her, not like this.
With a deep breath, Cinder realized what was going on and backed off, sitting back down. Not something she knew how to handle, especially not in a situation like this, with children in the room.
Before the pressure could grow even further, though, everyone’s eyes snapped over to the entrance at the sound of linen being slid aside.
“Honey?” Garret asked, his words welcomed by everyone—especially their intended recipient. Anne felt the Gardevoir’s embrace loosen just a bit as the Grimmsnarl approached, eyes going wider and expression slacking a bit more. “Honey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
As he came to a stop beside the two beds, the calm taps of much shorter steps soon followed, before speeding up at sensing the emotional mess everyone was stewing in. Autumn walked in moments after and levitated herself onto the bed Aria had slept on minutes earlier and taking a seat along its edge. “Aria, are you here with me?” she asked, her voice raised.
Being surrounded by faces she knew she could trust helped a lot, but, to Aria’s dismay, solved nothing by itself. Her heart still pounded, her mind still raced with thoughts it was barely cognizant of. She usually held a much better grip on herself than this, but right now, it all felt... uncontrollable. “^It—it feels like something’s gonna happen again. Like—like it’s still not over, like I’m still back in that tent. I-it just won’t go away. I don’t know h-how to make it stop.^”
The realization of just how much of a mess her mind was didn’t help the Gardevoir much in remaining calm, but at least it let her loved ones know what to do to help her.
Autumn wasted no time before catching her attention with a bit of applied psychics and speaking up, “I get it, sweetie. You put so much of yourself into this entire ordeal, into dealing with the Elders, into keeping us all, and especially Anne, safe. I can only imagine how hard it is to leave that headspace afterwards. It’s really over though, I promise. You deserve the biggest break in the world from having to worry about it all, about Anne.”
As the human in question kept looking at Aria in concern, the Indeedee’s words only brought the Gardevoir more fear. Her hold re-tightened immediately, as she mumbled, “^Wh-what if s-someone steps out of line? What if—what if the Elders come up with something else, and—^”
Before the Gardevoir could wind herself up any further, her words and embrace alike were swiftly cut off by her husband leaning in to pull her into the firmest hug his furry body could manage, individual hairs deftly prying his wife away from the little human. “Shhhhhh... It’s really over honey, please, listen to us...”
Cinder waited until Aria stopped shaking in her husband’s embrace before chiming in once more, “^I’ll be Anne’s ward for the next while. It will be both in your and in her best interest if you take the time to clear your head after everything you’ve been through, Aria. She will be alright.^”
Anne was still overwhelmed at everything going on around her, but realized this was her time to speak up and help her guardian out, to make up for all the care she’d been given. “~Yeah! I-I’ll be alright, Mrs. Aria, promise!~” she reassured, voice as confident as she could manage.
Even all the words combined couldn’t do miracles, but combined with the affection from her husband, they were just about sufficient to break through much of the Gardevoir’s present wound-up anxiety. With each passing moment, her shaking waned before culminating in a weak nod. Less at any single claim in specific, and more so at the overall intent of everyone gathered.
“Let’s get you some more rest, honey. I love you,” the Grimmsnarl whispered, as somber as it was possible for sounds being snarled and growled out to be.
And his wife noticed. As he made his way around the second bed and towards the room’s entrance, Aria’s arms finally reached around him, returning his affection with her own utterly exhausted embrace. “^L-love you too...^”
The room took a collective sigh of relief as Aria and Garret made their way out, shared concern mellowing out as the Gardevoir received the support she so clearly needed. It had all been a nightmare they were only now waking up from; the kind of trauma that left scars despite ending without any casualties.
“Unfortunate. Nobody should have to deal with what you two have gone through—but it’s over now. How are you doing, Anne?” Autumn asked, trying to keep her voice as chipper as she could despite the dourness they had all just witnessed, smiling at the human girl as she sat down beside her. As much as both her words and presence were appreciated by the little human, though, the elderly psychic soon realized that her job here wasn’t yet done.
Anne shook as thoughts she had no control over filled her mind again, her anxiety not unlike Aria’s if so much more vicious in the mental images it slipped to her. As much as she wanted it to be over, it felt like it wasn’t, like it couldn’t be, the precise fear too muddled to really hone in on, but no less potent as a result. It stewed under the girl’s skullcap, each passing moment distilling it further until all Anne could do was shake and try to stave the creeping hyperventilation off.
“A-Anne!? Anne, c-can you hear me? Wh-what’s going on?” Ember asked, panicked, close to freaking out at her friend’s state. She wanted to help, she needed to help, but again and again found herself woefully unable to do anything but watch as her friend got worse.
Even with Aria gone, the atmosphere in the room kept growing tenser by the moment—but the two women present wanted to do everything in their power to ensure it wouldn’t get any worse. Cinder quickly made her way over and sat down on the edge of the bed, away from Anne, holding her daughter close. She wished Ember would be as comfortable in her embrace, in her presence, as she once was. The slight, but perceptible unease in her daughter’s body language was the Delphox’s fault, and she knew she had nobody to blame for herself.
She didn’t know how to help the human out, but she didn’t have to—Autumn was here.
*clap-clap~*
It was the quietest, most gentle clapping sound imaginable, catching Anne’s attention for just long enough to look down at the smaller psychic beside her. As she did, Autumn leaned in and grasped Anne’s hands—or at least her index fingers—in her paws, the sensation as warmly tingly as she’d come to expect with psychics.
Cadence might’ve been taught that manipulating other people’s emotions to forcibly calm them down and make them not afraid was mean, but Autumn knew the actual truth of the matter. It wasn’t mean; it was foolish.
It was the most temporary of band-aids—one that not only lasted for much less than many attempting it hoped for; but also one which then immediately decayed, infecting the emotional wound it was meant to shield and making it incomparably worse.
Which was why Autumn didn’t do it.
Directly interfering in emotions was a fool’s errand, but using one’s mind’s eye to find their source and try addressing that most certainly wasn’t. Having the girl’s attention helped, physical contact helped even more. As she dug into Anne’s panicking mind, the Indeedee slowly rocked her body from side to side, and the girl subconsciously followed. The simplest way there was to carve out some more calmness for oneself, and yet no less effective because of that.
In no time, Anne was just that bit more grounded, and Autumn had a decent idea of what she was dealing with. Ultimately, the girl’s case wasn’t too different from the Gardevoir’s, if more focused on the individual stimuli from the discussion preceding the vote. The growls, hisses, and cries, intimidating in themselves and turned incomparably monstrous by knowing there was malice behind them, malice that wished to take her life for having been born the wrong way.
It might’ve only been behind some of them, but it didn’t even matter—it’d just take one dissatisfied person to take Anne’s life, and the girl was acutely aware of that.
Which was exactly why they were so focused on keeping her safe.
“^Anne?^” Autumn whispered, the telepathic sound worming itself straight into the girl’s mind. “^I know you’re scared, sweetie. I don’t blame you, I can only imagine how terrifying all this undue horror must’ve been for you. But, I want to say, from the very bottom of my life, that you’re safe. Both in your stay here, and from anyone trying to attack you.^”
The girl was so incredibly glad Autumn wasn’t saying these words out loud for everyone to hear. Sure, she doubted that either Ember or Cinder would mind her being afraid of the other denizens of this village, especially after she’d been through, but... a part of her still felt awful for doing so. After all, Autumn was right, she was safe, and here she was, suspecting random innocent mons of wanting to hurt her just because they were mons.
Of course, reality was more nuanced than that, something that the Indeedee didn’t hesitate to clarify, “^Oh Anne, Anne. We both know that fear ain’t all bigotry—and with what you’ve been through, I doubt there’s that much of it in there to begin with. Because, yes, some in our village do harbor ill will towards you. But it’s a much smaller group than you fear,^” she continued. Her words were true, but insufficient—which was why she wasn’t done yet.
“^You’re right, even a single person could hurt you badly, but at that point they’d be signing their own death wish. Cinder will be with you, watching over you, I’ll be here with you, and if anyone lifts even a finger your way, we’ll make sure they’ll never feel it right ever again.^” The description stirred the weakest of giggles in Anne’s mind, the sound as mumbly as it was sorely needed. “^I know my words can only do so much,^” the Indeedee continued, “^there’s no magical solution for what you’re going through—but I’ve learned from experience that these kinds of reassurances add up.^”
There isn’t a cure to a traumatized mind, there never will be.
There isn’t a cure to a broken arm, there never will be.
Manage their symptoms, take care of any occasional flare-ups, and keep them secure from further harm, though, and they’ll slowly heal over time. They will probably never feel exactly the same as they were before, but they’ll be enough to live with.
It was all a lesson Autumn had to learn the hard way over the years, but which she was more than glad to use to help anyone she could. Patience and being willing to manage individual spikes, be they of pain or panic, again and again, was everything, and the Indeedee was immensely relieved to see that she’d assisted Anne in processing this first one after yesterday’s anxious torment.
Bit by bit, the girl’s body unwound; helped greatly by Autumn’s deep breathing, which Anne then involuntarily mirrored. And in; and out.
And in; and out.
You’re safe.
I’m safe.
The gradual shift was palpable to more than just the Indeedee. Once the human girl had cooled off enough, Cinder let her daughter rejoin in by letting go of her, the Braixen picking up on the gesture immediately. And, for once, Anne returned her hug right away, savoring her warmth as she whispered, “~T-thank you, M-Mrs. Autumn...~”
“Anytime, sweetie. Now, better get to all the goodies Holly brought over before they go cold!” the Indeedee giggled, motivated equally by a genuine desire for such wonderfully smelling treats to be enjoyed as much as they could be, and by wanting Anne to further distract herself from all the terrifying thoughts with a tasty meal.
Mostly the former.
The contents of the little bags Holly had left behind looked just as good as they smelled. Two halves of a small, creamy cake, toppled with a few Pecha pieces and more sugar than either girl ate, even back when they still lived with their grandma. For a while, the only sounds filling the room of the healer tent were vigorous chewing and occasional gulps, Anne especially too hungry to even think about stopping her unexpected feast.
Autumn and Cinder never quite saw eye to eye, even before Anne’s arrival and the latter’s cruelty that it had uncovered, but they could at least unite in being happy over both girls doing well. A part of the Indeedee considered the responsibility of looking after Anne for the first few months to be much, much too light a ‘punishment’ for the Delphox considering all that she’d done… but her opinion didn’t matter as long as Ember was happy with the outcome.
And few things made Ember happier than the thought of her best friend being looked after.
The cake each girl was eating a half of might’ve been on the smaller side, but the same was true for the girls themselves—relative to their species, that is. Tried as she might, Ember couldn’t even finish her portion, and Anne only barely managed to finish stuffing herself with hers, before cleaning up everything left after the Braixen.
She was so used to the sensation of hunger she barely even consciously recognized it anymore, but maybe this would be enough to stave it off until sunset, hehe—
*eeeeee!*
As the best friends snuggled into one another in their shared food coma, the shrill, ethereal sound coming from behind them made them scramble to verify if it came from who they thought it did. Indeed, it had.
Sage was shyly observing Autumn from behind her spectral hands, trying to contain her excitement with a timid wave. The Indeedee still had no idea just why did her presence make the little ghost so happy, but it didn’t matter—she was glad to see her, anyway. Without saying a word, she opened her arms for a hug facing Sage; the gesture immediately understood. One uncertain look later—answered with a reassuring nod and a telepathic comment—the Phantump hovered right over, the rough bark of her head pressing itself into the chubby psychic’s fur.
“~G-good morning, Sage!~” Anne joined in with a wave of her own, followed up on by Ember soon after.
It took the younger girl a while to notice, but when she did, she floated over to Anne, waving with both arms as she squealed, “~Hiiiii Anne! You look happy!~”
Inconceivable considering the last twenty-four hours, the thought making Anne giggle a bit, but true all the same. “~Y-yeah! I’ll be staying here for good!~”
Sage took the words in eagerly—before tilting her head, clearly confused. “~I thought you were already gonna stay.~”
Cinder might’ve limited herself to exhaling some hot air through her nose, but others expressed their amusement much more loudly. Anne’s arm outstretched for a hug let Sage know everyone wasn’t laughing at her, but with her.
“~No, no, we—we didn’t know that until yesterday,~” Anne clarified.
Her words were much appreciated, letting the ghostly girl sort her confusion out before presenting something she was happy about, “~Oooooo! Me and Mr. Yaksha will be going today!~”
Sage wasn’t expecting all the amusement to suddenly falter at her saying these words, with nobody present sure what she meant, and all of them worried to various extents. Clearly, she must’ve said something wrong; the thought bringing a fair bit of worry. Before it could grow too much, though, Autumn tried to clear the air, “Oh? Where will you be going, sweetie?”
“~Home! That’s what Mr. Yaksha told me. Mr. Yaksha!~” the Phantump called. Without waiting for a response, she hovered through the nearby wall once more before dragging the Banette with herself, taken aback by it all. She then realized she’d left her wig behind, gasping at the oversight and phasing once more to retrieve it before, at the last moment, remembering re-enter the room through the physical entrance. “~Mr. Yaksha, are we going home today?~”
The follow-up brought some well-needed clarification, letting the Banette go from uncomfortable confusion to slightly-less-uncomfortable ‘having to correct another of many misunderstandings with Sage’. Still far from something he enjoyed, making him stifle a groan before he spoke up, “~I didn’t say we’re going home today, Sage. I just said we’d need to talk more about it today.~”
While Sage groaned at her hopes being delayed, Anne realized something else. Sure, either Autumn or Cinder must’ve been providing translation right now, but... her ears were picking up the Banette’s words too. They weren’t just whispers and ghostly wails, and while he was much harder to understand than Sage, both because of the distortion over his voice and the older vocabulary, he was clearly speaking Unovan.
She probably should’ve expected that considering these two had arrived together and could communicate before they got here, but it still took her aback a bit.
“Well... I’m not any more opposed to you two trying to return Sage to her home today than I was yesterday, but the logistic woes remain, don’t they?” Autumn asked. As the lil’ haunting floated back over to her, she continued, “Only a vague direction, no way of asking for directions...”
Off to the side, Cinder was trying her absolute hardest to piece the context of the discussion together from the little she’d just overheard. Obviously something was going on that she wasn’t privy about, the mentions of a nearby ‘home’ that the Phantump wanted to go back to. Was she a human-owned mon that got lost in the woods and was looking for a way back—
...
Oh, gods.
As unfortunate as Sage’s fate was, Cinder wasn’t any better at sympathizing with dead humans than she was with living ones. Thankfully, she could provide help in other ways, immediately thinking through the situation she was quickly piecing together—and arriving at one immediate conclusion. “^No matter what you settle on, it would likely be best if you put your plan into action today. With Anne’s situation already judged, I imagine you’d want to get out of here before Elders get you in their sights...^”
The Delphox kept her gaze pinned on the entrance to the room, away from the group—only for everyone present to turn towards her in unison at her words. Not something anyone was expecting her to say for multiple reasons, and she wasn’t feeling like justifying herself in depth, settling on a barebones excuse, “^I assume you already know about the risks something like that will pose. Me restating them would bring no help.^”
She only barely managed to force these words through the sheer discomfort that the thought of someone with the knowledge of their village permanently living amongst humans brought her, but the self-inflicted Calm Mind did a good job of keeping it under wraps.
“That is a good point, yes,” the Indeedee acknowledged. “We ought to figure it out as soon as we can... someone that could help figure out the way would be ideal, either by being able to see their whole town from above or by asking humans for help, either a flier or a psychic—I’ve got an idea!” she gasped, turning to Sage as a light switch flipped in her head, “I’ll need to ask Marco about this, I hope he’ll be willing to help.”
Ember nodded as eagerly as she could, leaning around her friend to chime in. “Y-yes! I-I know Mr. Marco will wanna help us! He helped me remember Anne; he’s great!”
As Anne used the opportunity to pull the vixen into a one-armed hug—the gesture immediately returned—Cinder raised a question, “^To... to the best of my knowledge, he’s still recovering after I… attacked him a few days ago. If Sage here needs a psychic to help her out, why not you, Autumn, or myself if someone can look after Anne in the meantime?^”
The Delphox tried to keep herself from reeling under the Anne’s shocked look at hearing that, and managed—if barely. She focused on what Autumn’s response would be; the Indeedee chewing through both other options. Unfortunately, both of them suffered from the same issue. “I imagine it’d be much easier for Marco to look like another human for when he has to talk to them for directions. I’m too small, and you’re too... fluffy.”
“^Considering we’ll need to either obscure or fully disguise ourselves for this task, I don’t see size making much difference,^” Cinder argued, raising a single eyebrow at the Indeedee.
Only for it to fall back down as the smaller psychic clarified, “That’s the thing, maybe we won’t have to!” Autumn grinned, walking around the bed towards the Delphox. “I know Marco hasn’t fully recovered, but with his human shape, I’m thinking that we could use some of the human clothes Aria and Lumi brought over so that we can cover most of him, and then he’d only have to disguise his face and hands, and maybe feet. Much easier than keeping himself fully obscured, ain’t it?”
Not something Cinder could deny, nodding slowly as she brought up another point, “^Though that would leave him visible, and able to be spotted if his disguise slips.^”
“Truuuue, but I imagine that the cover of dark will make it harder for humans to spot any slip-ups. Besides, with Sage and Yaksha beside him, it’ll probably be best if he is visible, just so that other humans think they are ‘his’ mons and not wild ones.”
Yaksha grumbled under his breath at being referred to as someone’s mon, even if for the sake of illustration. That aside, Autumn was making sense, and now the ball was back in the tall Fire-type’s court to refute—which she couldn’t. “^Hmm. That sounds like a good idea, yes. It will be a perilous undertaking even then, I reckon,^” Cinder sighed, shuddering at the thought of everything that could go wrong.
“Not gonna disagree,” Autumn admitted, “but, after all, certainty is a luxury rarely granted. He’s gonna be alright.”
Before she could get into any more pondering, one obvious hitch presented itself—one they could all take care of there and then. “But but but, I’m going off here talking about him like he’s gonna follow along without questions. Have to bring this up to him, and hope he won’t rebuff us at the idea. Which meansssss~”
Autumn turned away from Cinder and back towards the human of the group, skipping before her and asking with all the eagerness and excitement she could muster out of her elderly voice,
“Do you feel like going for a walk with us, Anne?”
