[center][h2]Daycare[/h2][/center]
Haven looked over her shoulder to see Forrest leading the Ranger away. It seemed he just couldn't help but be the hero. The corner of her mouth quirked up in gratitude. Jerrek, following behind his father, turned around one last time to wave at Haven. She raised a hand and gave a small wave back, her smile growing. She watched them grow distant until they were dots on the horizon before finally turning and walking through the door of the Daycare. Cloak walked beside her, still carrying the egg.

[b]"Oh! Haven!"[/b] Mrs. James’ voice rustled through the air like shivering leaves in a storm as she stepped through the door on the opposite end of the lobby. She seemed frailer than she'd been last night, less steady on her feet. The skin under her eyes was full and dark, the soft wrinkles heavy and tired. But they were lighter when her eyes focused on Haven's wayward form. [b]"Thank goodness! I thought– when you didn't come back I was so worried, and look at you! Heavens, my girl!"[/b]

Relief at seeing the old woman well quickly morphed to concern as she ran herself breathless with her talking and shuffling to Haven. Cloak looked from Mrs. James to Haven and back again, not sure what the best course of action was. In the end he opted to stay where he was as Haven hurried forward to meet Mrs. James halfway.

[color=coral]"I'm sorry, I,"[/color] Haven started weakly as Mrs. James reached her. Papery hands fluttered to cup Haven's cheeks and hold her shoulders, flitting about Haven like they were afraid she'd shatter. [color=coral]"I got the egg back?"[/color] Mrs. James blinked at that. Her eyes darted about until they landed on the Scrafty behind haven, still holding the spotted egg. A bark of a laugh erupted out of Mrs. James.

[b]"So you did!"[/b] But her delight quickly sobered as she leveled Haven with a look. Her voice took on a familiar tone – a scolding, maternal sort of worry that Haven remembered from too many conversations with her mother. [b]"I'm not sure it was worth all that you went through for it. That was reckless."[/b] Understatement of the decade. [b]"You worried me half to death."[/b] There was a helplessness in Mrs. James' voice that echoed in Haven, plucking a familiar guilt.

Haven took a step back from Mrs. James, her grip tightening the blanket around her shoulders. Mrs. James' hands fell a bit.

[color=coral]"Sorry,"[/color] she murmured. The word fell flat. [color=coral]"I'm happy you're ok, too."[/color] Mrs. James' hands fell completely to her side as she looked at Haven for a long moment. Then her face softened with a warm smile that made a lump form in Haven's throat.

[B]"You have nothing to apologize for, dear. You did a very brave thing. [i]Foolish.[/i] But brave."[/b] She'd closed the distance between them again, unwilling to let Haven retreat. A weathered hand came to rest on Haven's shoulder. [b]"And I'm happy to have you back here safe. It seems the two of us are more durable than we look."[/b] Mrs. James gave Haven a cheeky wink and Haven couldn't help the smile curling the corner of her mouth. [b]"I think we could both use some rest, hmm? How about you get washed up in your room and lunch will be ready in a few hours."[/b] Haven nodded at her instructions, unable to say no to the old woman and her forceful maternalism. Mrs. James gave her another long look, her hand moving to cup Haven's cheek again for the briefest of seconds. Then she nodded to herself, stepped away, and turned to walk back out of the door she'd come from.

Haven let out a slow, quiet breath. Mrs. James was ok.

[hr]
She stood in the bathroom, bare feet on the cold tile floor. There was a layer of dried mud caked onto the soles of her feet, already flaking off in brittle shards. It trailed around her heels and up her calves, dark splatters and speckles painting her skin. It had dried into the ruined fabric of her robe, making it heavy and stiff. Haven undid the knot at her waist before lifting her hands and sliding the oversized robe off of her shoulders. It landed dully on the ground around her feet.

Haven stared at her reflection in the mirror across from her for a long moment, the image still but for the slight rise and fall of her chest. Her hair was a mess – a dark tangle of knots, tendrils of blood and dirt hanging around her face and down her back. Her eyes, nearly black, looked dully back at her. Her skin was a shocking white save for the dark half-moons under her eyes, the mud, and the shock of bruises drawn across her body. She didn't remember most of them. Her right arm was still a mess of spiderweb lines, pink scar tissue mapping her veins and lining the puncture holes.

Exhaustion leaked through her bones, replacing her marrow.

She was a ghost – some tragic heroine remembered around a campfire. Looking at herself, Haven wasn't sure she was real.

[hr]
She used her towel to wipe down the foggy mirror, clearing streaks in the mist until her face was a sharp image looking back at her. She was finally [i]clean[/i]. The dirt and blood were gone and her hair hung in straight wet clumps down her back and over her shoulders. Now the only remnants of the night before were the reminders carved into her body. She felt more human. But she still didn't quite feel like Haven. 

Turning around, she looked over her shoulder to finally see the scars on her back.

Her arm curled up behind her back as Haven looked over her shoulder. Her skin was no longer so startlingly pale – the heat of the shower had flushed her pink, but the great X on her back still stood out. Shining scar tissue cut across her back, straight and surgical, perfect lines that hadn't been there yesterday. Her finger grazed the bottom edge of the X, puckered pink tissue near her right hip. The new, sewn-together flesh pulled tightly over her shoulder blade as she moved. The Scyther had –

Haven darted to the toilet and threw up.

[hr]
[color=coral]"Oh, shit,"[/color] Haven murmured to herself as she looked at her tablet. She was sitting in her bed, back against the wall. The heavy comforter was pulled over her legs. The weight of her own clothes was familiar on her – her old paint-stained jacket and the sweatpants she normally reserved for sleep were a comfortable layer, covering her skin and bruises and scars. The egg was resting on the corner of the bed, propped up between the walls. Her team was all around her, close and too alert to be relaxed. Blink was nestled against her side, vines curled up the length of her arm like he was afraid to let her go. Cloak and Dagger were sitting on the far end of the bed, playing some game that mostly involved slapping each other’s hands. Lace was on Haven’s lap, Forrest’s blanket wrapped around her jagged, rocky body. Haven had kicked herself when she’d realized she’d forgotten to give it back to him. He seemed the type to brush it off and just flat out give it to her, but still… Haven should have at least offered it back.

But for the moment, the blanket was forgotten. She was looking down at her tablet, reading a news headline from ten years ago.

[i]Forrest Johnson named Hoenn’s Champion[/i]

There was an image of a younger Forrest and a team of Pokemon, smiling and holding an enormous trophy. Apparently her savior was the former regional Champion. Well. That explained things.

Too tired to do much, but too restless to sleep, Haven had picked up her tablet after her shower in the hopes of finding some distraction on the internet. After a few inane videos and trivia websites, she’d settled on typing in Forrest’s name to the search bar. She hadn’t expected the results to be so numerous.

[color=coral]"Guess I was in good hands…”[/color] The vines around her arm tightened at the hollow sound of her voice.

[hr]
Haven drummed her fingers on her knee and bit the corner of her lip as the dial tone sounded from her tablet, a picture of her sister's face appearing above a green phone icon.

[i]Dialing…[/i]

[b]"Hello?"[/b] Her sister's voice, stained metallic by the call, came out of the tablet. Haven's heart caught in her throat, and for half an instant she was frozen. 

[color=coral]"Rose, hey."[/color] The words came out too quickly, forced and light. 

[b]"Haven?"[/b] Rose sounded surprised, a question in her voice. [b]"What’s up? Everything ok?"[/b] She spoke with a cautious sort of curiosity. But that was to be expected – Haven almost never called outside of her scheduled weekly calls to their mom.

[color=coral]"You have no faith in me,"[/color] Haven said with mock hurt, a small smile lifting her mouth. [color=coral]"What, I can’t call my big sister just to hear her voice? I always gotta be in trouble?"[/color] Rose was silent on the other line for a long moment.

[b]"Yes."[/b] Haven huffed and rolled her eyes, her smile growing. She’d given her family too much crap growing up to expect a different answer.

But this time… she [i]had[/i] called to hear Rose’s voice. The lump in her throat was building, forcing its way up.

She’d thought she’d never get to talk to her sister again.

[color=coral]"I just…"[/color] She trailed off, hating the slight quiver in her words. Cloak and Dagger had paused their game across from her, and were both watching Haven. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together.

[b]"Hae?"[/b] Rose’s tone had changed. It was tender, with a softness that Haven rarely saw. Her hands began to shake and her eyes burned. [b]"Haven, what –"[/b]

[color=coral]"Sorry,"[/color] Haven cut her off. Her voice was growing thicker. [color=coral]"I was calling to ask if I left my green dress at home the last time I visited, but I just found it."[/color] The lie came out in a rush, her voice cracking on the last syllable. Haven slapped her hand over her mouth as her shoulders started shaking. Her breath was coming out in hasty, shallow gasps.

[color=coral]"I gotta go,"[/color] she said at the same time Rose spoke, trying to get a word in. Haven hit the button on her tablet’s screen to hang up, cutting off her sister’s alarmed voice. 

As soon as the call disconnected her gasps grew louder, barely contained. Her hands were back over her mouth, clasped tightly as though they alone would keep her emotions at bay. Squeezing her eyes shut, she felt tears burn hot tracks down her face. Her shoulders were shuddering, moving with the force of unvoiced sobs. Her team let out sharp cries of alarm and all of them moved to surround her. 

The screen of her tablet lit up again as Rose tried to call her. In a fit Haven swatted her tablet off of her lap and heard it clatter to the ground. 

Her arms folded in front of her stomach, her fingers clawing tightly at the fabric of her jacket. A cry finally escaped her, pained and desperate. The terror of the night before flooded back to her, the piercing agony that had been nearly paralyzing – nearly [i]fatal[/i].

She’d almost died. She’d thought she was going to [i]die[/i].

Haven couldn’t hold back her sobs anymore as they cut through the air of her small room. She bent over, curling in on herself where she sat on the bed. Someone had placed a hand on her back. Lace, rough and jagged even through the blanket, was forcing herself back onto Haven’s lap, unwilling to let her shrink away.

[i]Lace[/i] – with her broken horns. Haven hadn’t been the only one to almost die. Her entire team had been hurt.

[color=coral]"I’m sorry,"[/color] she gasped out between her sobs. [color=coral]"I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I –"[/color] Another cry cut her off. Lace let out a pained chirp and tried to burrow deeper into Haven’s stomach. Her arms came to wrap around the little Corsola, ignoring the jagged points. Lace had lost her horns. Cloak and Dagger had both been knocked out. Blink –

Blink [i]hated[/i] battles. It’d taken him so long to even be comfortable with other Pokemon when Haven had first found him. 

[color=coral]"[i]I’m sorry[/i]."[/color] It was all she could say, again and again. Grief and terror mixed with guilt, overpowering her. Haven was drowning in it. She’d survived just to die in this flood, unable to breathe, she couldn’t [i]breathe[/i] –

Her breaths were too short, too quick, piercing the air like shards of glass. Her head was spinning. She needed more air but she couldn’t stop gasping. 

She clapped her hands back over her mouth, sure to cover her nose, too. Haven shut her eyes, her eyebrows pinching together as she held her breath. Her lungs, already overworked, started to burn like her eyes. When Haven couldn’t bear it any longer, she released her hands. With a loud gasp, air flooded her lungs and immediately her head started clearing.

Haven took deep, shuddering swallows of air. Her breath still hitched now and then. Her face was still wet, but the tears eventually stopped flowing so freely. She was still save for the heavy rise and fall of her breathing and the way she trembled. She felt hollow, like the act of crying had emptied her. She’d carved out everything that had been inside of her. 

Haven sniffled. She reached up and swiped futilely at her cheek. Another sniff.

Eventually she forced herself to move. Heavy, tired arms pushed at the comforter on top of her legs, pushing them back so Haven could slip deeper into the bed and curl on her side. She opened it up more and Lace waddled in next to her. Dagger placed herself on top of Haven’s legs, curling up to be a steady, grounding weight there. Cloak sat next to Haven’s pillow, back against the wall. On her other side, Blink nestled against her back.

She watched her tablet’s screen light up again, this time with her mother’s face – her tired eyes and warm smile. Haven let her tablet ring on the floor.