Out of their Element

[Olo]

@littlest-lily I’m not worried; I’m sure an owl will prevent Evie from hitting the ground.

I can vent my heart out on the car ride back tomorrow morning.

If Aiden’s anything like me, you do not want give him alarming or enraging news while he’s driving.

that Disney trip sounded pretty great

Sorry, Tink, but they don’t allow guests to wear costumes.

I’m starting to be good at noticing invisible paths

Years of Super Mario Bros finally pays off!

I could have sworn she saw me

How deliciously deniable.

[Olo]

@littlest-lily BTW, in the SW genre a cliffhanger is now officially called a “sillhanger.”

[littlest-lily]

@Olo Oh, sure, owls would be a great thing for Evie right now

And unfortunately this sillhanger’s going on for a wee bit longer~

[littlest-lily]

Chapter 75
Aiden

“Has anyone seen Evie?”

I’m breathless from hurrying down the stairs and into the living room. Four pairs of eyes turn to me as everyone goes silent.

Star is the first to speak. “I hate that you just asked that question.”

Moira’s already on her feet and rushing over to me. She puts a hand on my elbow as she looks at me intently, keeping her voice calm and even to counter the panic that’s clearly rising in my chest.

“Where’s the last place you saw her?” she asks.

“I was just with her up in the loft, like, less than ten minutes ago,” I pant, “She wasn’t on the couch where I left her, but… I thought I just heard people on the stairs so…”

Everyone else is also standing and approaching at this point and Star says, “Yeah, Camila and I were up there just now. We didn’t see her. Figured she was with you, though, so we weren’t looking particularly close.”

“Maybe she’s still up there then?” Diego adds with a furrowed brow.

It feels like there’s a vice squeezing around my heart. It’s true that I didn’t search for very long when I went up and saw the couch was empty. I figured she must have left with someone, for whatever reason. But if that’s not the case, then my mind is jumping to worst case scenarios. If she was still in the loft, why didn’t she call out for me?

“O-okay, I’ll go back up,” I stutter, fighting a wave of dizziness.

Camila frowns and says, “She has to be up there. Can she even get down the stairs?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. At least, not that quickly.”

Diego starts glancing around the room. “We’ll take a look down here just in case she somehow hitched a ride.”

“What, hopped onto one of our shoes? Without us noticing?” Star asks incredulously.

“I dunno, maybe!”

“Why would she do that though…” I mutter, but I don’t linger here to chat about it - I’ve already turned to leave.

Moira’s on my tail. “I’m coming with you.”

“Alright. Um…” I take a pause right as I’m about to head out of sight, looking towards the rest of the group. “Everyone, just… watch your step.”

We hasten back up to the loft, scanning the stairs as we take them two or three at a time. And we begin the search.

Option one. Evie fell and hurt herself.

I look everywhere around the couch first - under it, behind it, circling the perimeter and eventually pulling back cushions. There’s a windowsill right next to the couch, a table alongside that, another window on the other side, and I search the floor diligently under any of these platforms that she could have reached. I even look a little further, around another chair that she miiiight have been able to get to if she jumped far enough. I don’t know why she would even risk that, but I look anyway. Nothing.

I do feel a modicum of relief at this. I was so terrified to find her tiny crumpled form on the floor, unconscious or worse. But her sheer absence is still wildly disconcerting.

Option two. Evie climbed down, possibly to get something.

I take a closer look at the couch to see if there are any loose threads or something that she might have used to get herself to the ground without falling. I don’t notice anything right away, all I find are her little jacket and minuscule socks. I try to remember what else she was wearing - could she have dropped something that bounced away, and then managed to climb down to fetch it? In my agitation my memories of the state of things right before I left her are a bit fuzzy.

This line of thinking widens my search to nearby structures that she’d be able to reach by walking. I call her name a few times as I look, but the futility of that is readily apparent.

She’d asked me to get her lip balm. That’s what had taken me so long, I wasn’t able to find it. Maybe she got tired of waiting for me? Could she have tried to borrow some from Moira, whose bed and belongings are up here? There are several bags close by, it’s not impossible that Evie got trapped in one of them. I let Mo search that while I head into Camila’s room to start searching the bags in there, eventually making it to the bathroom and sifting through some of the toiletries that are accessible from the floor. Nothing.

Option three. Something scared Evie and she’s hiding.

Could an animal have gotten into the house? I quickly decide that the odds of that are fairly slim. It’s dark out and all of the lights are on in the cabin, surely a deterrent for most critters. All the windows are closed downstairs. The only open window is the one that’s stuck open in Camila’s room, since it’s still as busted up as when I was wrenching at it yesterday. There aren’t any trees near that side of the cabin for some oddly behaving squirrel to jump from. I suppose a bird could have tried, but even if something was really determined to get in, the window is barely open at all, I don’t think even a sparrow would be able to squeeze through the gap.

A bug perhaps? While I’m not sure how likely it would be for a spider or roach to crawl in through the second-story window, and the house otherwise seems well sealed as we haven’t seen any insects in the cabin during our stay, I doubt that it’s foolproof. It’s certainly possible that some kind of large bug is lurking in one of these rooms and might have freaked little Evie out.

This gets me to start opening up cabinets and drawers. I get down low and try to imagine the world from her perspective, try to ask myself where I would hide if I was frightened at three inches tall. Within the folds of the shower curtain, inside a cupboard, behind lamp stands, under the beds, on top of luggage. Nothing.

Option four. Evie’s playing a prank on me.

This seems like the least likely of options, but after twenty minutes of nerve-wracking investigation, it briefly passes through my brain nevertheless. If she’s fully conscious, it’s just so weird that she hasn’t said anything. Unless she’s keeping quiet on purpose?

Moira’s downstairs now and I’m doing one last sweep up here before I stop and stand still in the center of the loft.

“Eve, please let this be a joke,” I say to the room desperately. “We always said that you’d be good at hide and seek. You win, okay?”

I wouldn’t even be mad at her if that’s all it took for her to show herself. I try to will her into existence, imagining her popping out from her hiding spot and calling to me with a giggle. But of course… no such luck.

Even though I can’t think of a plausible way she could have made it downstairs, I’m running out of ideas, so I join everyone else and start searching each room in turn. I look under every couch and chair. I search the pantry and kitchen floor for any recently dropped crumb trails. I’m sifting through baskets and bags and boxes. I closely examine her camp on the nightstand, trying to remember how I’d left it, though as far as I can tell it’s untouched.

Everyone else is diligently searching as well, moving cautiously from room to room, tiptoeing as their eyes scan the floor. It’s so bewildering that not only have none of us found her, we haven’t even found any sign of her. It’s like she vanished into thin air.

After over an hour of fruitless searching, I’m alone back up in the loft, feeling beside myself with worry. I take a second to sit down, on a couch opposite to the one that I had left her on. I sit and stare at the armrest where I last saw my precious little girlfriend.

Option five. Evie’s upset with me.

After tearing the place apart, it just makes no sense that none of us have found a single clue. Unless she was actively avoiding us by moving from one hiding place to another?

"Did I do something wrong, babe?” I ask softly into the air. Silence is my only answer.

Has she been suffering over something I wasn’t aware of? Did the Camila-related stresses get to her even more than I realized? Did I not do enough to make sure she felt secure and safe and loved and heard? Should I have insisted that we go straight home this afternoon? Or is it the opposite, did I overreact and it ended up frustrating her? Sometimes she still closes in on herself, sometimes she can still be hard to read, especially with how tiny her expressions are, how weak her voice is - maybe I missed something, maybe it was me. At this point I would rather it be that she’s avoiding me than any of the far worse alternatives.

“Please, Evie. Come back,” I say, my voice breaking. Tears blur up my vision and I drop my head to bury my face in my hands as I quietly sob, "Please, please be okay…”

I cry uncontrollably for the next minute or so, dangerously close to coming completely undone. I just don’t know what to do anymore. All my brain is giving me are new and horrific ideas on what could have happened to her. I’m getting eaten alive by despair.

It’s the sound of the staircase creaking that gets me to go silent. I rub at my eyes and take a deep breath before looking up at whoever’s come up to join me.

It’s Camila. Her posture is meek and tense, her expression hesitant. Her dark eyes meet mine, and she sighs as she walks over.

“Oh, Aiden…” she says quietly, “I’m so sorry. You must be so stressed out…”

I stiffen as she approaches, but I let her hug me. She sits down on top of the armrest right next to me and wraps her arms around my neck. I take in the little comfort I can get from this, silently letting it happen. I don’t feel motivated enough to fight it.

That is, until she slips down onto the couch proper after a minute, so that she’s sitting right at my side. She extends the supportive embrace by taking my arm in hers and leaning her head onto my shoulder. Something about it makes me naturally recoil - it feels too much like last night when she got drunk. And when I glance at her face and notice her expression looking far too serene, a spark of anger flashes inside me. Her advances suddenly don’t feel like they come from someone who’s just trying to comfort a friend… but rather someone who’s trying to take advantage of the situation.

I pull my arm away from her and give her a dark look. “Seriously, Camila? Seriously?”

Her jaw clenches and she stutters, “I-I’m just trying to–”

“Save it,” I snap, getting to my feet. “I can’t deal with you right now. In fact…”

I pause and go still as I glare at her. My exhausted mind starts working. I’ve been desperate and confused ever since my partner’s disappearance. But maybe this should have been obvious from the start. Maybe all of the answers are staring me in the face.

Option six. Someone else is responsible for Evie’s absence.

There’s hardly any emotion in my voice at all as I lock eyes with Camila and confront her. “You were up here, right? Just before she disappeared.”

She holds my gaze for several long seconds and extrapolates from my accusatory look. “You’re implying I have something to do with this?” she asks, eyes narrowing. “You seriously think I would do that?”

I speak quietly, tensely. “You’ve had it out for her from day one. You’ve said things I didn’t know you were capable of saying. I don’t know what you’re capable of anymore.”

She’s the one who ups the volume as she abruptly gets to her feet. “Aiden, that’s ridiculous! I would never do anything to hurt someone.”

“You already have. Can’t you see that?” I say with growing agitation. “How can you not realize how shitty you’ve been to Evie? You can’t blame me for getting suspicious at this point!"

Her shoulders move up and down with her breath as she gets more and more riled up. She’s glaring at me with intensity as a thousand thoughts seem to pass through her mind. Finally she snarls, “I don’t know what she told you, but I didn’t lay a hand on her in the kitchen. I didn’t do anything!”

I fall into stunned silence for a second. “The kitchen?” I ask, “What are you talking about?”

Camila stiffens and doesn’t respond, looking down at her boots. My heart is racing. Did something happen that Evie didn’t tell me about? What the hell is going on?

“What happened, Camila?” I insist, taking a step towards her. “When was this? What did you do?!”

“Nothing!” she protests, “We just… we just had an argument. I didn’t say anything I hadn’t already said.”

I throw my arm out, my voice edging towards unhinged. “Oh, you mean about how you think she’s a freak? A charity case? That I’m better off without her? All of that is ‘nothing’?!”

“See, this is exactly what–” she stops herself, shutting her mouth forcefully. I can see it in her eyes, I know what she was about to get at. The fact that Evie is missing is proving Camila’s point from earlier about my relationship causing me stress. But she has enough wisdom not to say it out loud right now.

“Aiden, I don’t think it was her,” a soft voice interjects. I whip around to see Moira reaching the top of the stairs, looking weary. “She was with us all evening, aside from grabbing something from her room. Star had eyes on Camila the whole time they were up here.”

Star’s coming up behind her, nodding forlornly in confirmation. Diego’s there too, and he doesn’t say anything, looking conflicted about the way I was just accusing his cousin. Moira herself seems uncomfortable in coming to Camila’s defense, but she’s looking at me with pleading eyes.

“Then where is she?!” I exclaim desperately. “For fuck’s sake, she could be dead right now!”

Moira flinches at that, tears springing up from the suggestion. Subconsciously I know I’m just making things worse. I’m too distraught to think properly. Suddenly Diego steps around the two girls, marching right up to me. I reflexively recoil, but he grabs my shoulders.

“Bro. Look at me.” He leans down to make firm eye contact as he turns me to face him, fingers digging into my arms. “We’re gonna find her. Okay?”

I waver on the spot, and he pulls me into a tight hug. At first I’m still incredibly tense. But as I try to catch my breath and the despair seeps back in to replace the anger, I end up letting my head hang, leaning it against his chest. For a moment it’s like I’m seven years old again, crying and being held by my best friend on the school playground after I’d just found out my family dog died. No matter how many years have passed, Diego’s still the same supportive guy.

And the embrace is helping me come back to my senses. Because unlike when I was seven, I’m not surrounded by the other kids from the military base, sniggering and pointing as they tossed out homophobic slurs. Instead I’m with people who care about me. And they care about Evie too. I’m still not completely convinced of Camila’s innocence, but I definitely shouldn’t be lashing out at my friends. I need to pull myself together.

I look up at Diego and give him a grateful nod when he lets go of me. I take one long, shuddering breath in as Moira steps forward too.

“Could she have gotten outside?” she suggests quietly.

I manage to make my tone calmer this time. “I’ve thought about that… God, I hope not, but I guess anything’s possible at this point. But why? And how? All of the doors are locked shut. The only open window is the broken one in Camila’s room. And even if she wanted to, Evie would have had no way to get up to that windowsill.”

Diego’s eyes sweep the room. “Show us exactly where she was when you left.”

With a sigh I walk over to the couch by the wall and point. “Here. Right here. She was sitting on the armrest.”

From my new vantage point, I notice Camila reacting subtly. She had stepped off to the side in brooding silence when the other three showed up, hugging her arms around herself as she stared at the floor. But she looks up towards me now, suddenly frowning and growing a shade paler.

“Wait,” she says softly. “That’s the couch you guys were at? By… by that window?”

“Yeah,” I respond, keeping my eyes fixed now as I try to get a read on her. “But again, these windows are shut…”

“Actually… um.” Camila stutters. She’s now locking eyes with Star, who has also gone wide-eyed in sudden realization. “About that…”

[Olo]

@littlest-lily The best thing about this chapter is that, while it’s properly focused on Aiden’s emotions, due weight is given to each of the other characters’ reactions. A sure sign of a good drama is that the audience wants to know how X responds to what just happened, not just for how they might advance the plot but also because it’s a test of how well that character has been established as well as an opportunity to learn something new about that character.

For once Aiden loses his temper at the right time and it doesn’t further contribute to the problem at hand. Stay vindicated, buddy.

I’m keen to discover whether Camila is genuinely trying to help solve the mystery of Evie’s disappearance or if she’s just cunning enough to realize that Star would bring it up anyway and so she’s trying to rehabilitate her image in Aiden’s eyes by bringing it up first.

[littlest-lily]

@Olo I appreciate that since this is me practicing at having a fuller cast of characters, and I do want there to be a “point” to everybody. And yes, I’m keeping things fairly vague with Camila on purpose

[littlest-lily]

Chapter 75
Evie

“Oof–”

The wind is knocked out of me as something punches me hard in the abdomen. I cough and gasp for air. I’m sure that rib is damaged, possibly even broken. But by some miracle I’m alive.

The impact has knocked me silly, and it’s only when I realize that I’m slipping off of whatever I’ve landed on that I scramble to grab hold. I hoist myself up onto a sturdier platform than the leaf I was just clinging to - this one is made of rough wood. It’s so dark that I can’t make sense of where I am, but I use my hands to feel my way. One side of the horizontal pillar I’m on is getting narrower, and the other side is getting wider. I make my way to the wider side, hurrying on my hands and knees as I’m desperate to find a stable spot.

Before I realize it, I crash into a wall head first. I curse with the pain, seeing stars for a second. But the wind doesn’t feel quite as vicious in this particular spot, the wall is protecting me for now. I take a dizzied look around myself, trying to make sense of where I ended up as my eyes adjust to the darkness.

There’s the cabin. It’s lit up on the inside so the sight of it is clear as day. It’s so far away… Almost half a mile to me. I must have gone for a ride on that leaf as if it was a runaway paraglider. Which means I’m in the forest? Yes, I… I’m on a tree branch… I’m… I’m hundreds of feet up… in a fucking tree.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” I whisper to myself. I’m so close to hyperventilating. I cling to the branch I’m perched on, pressing myself against the tree trunk. One wrong move and I really might plummet to my doom this time. “I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m so dead…”

The horrid gales change direction, reaching me now. I hunker down, holding tightly to the branch. It’s swaying, as are so many other branches around me. It’s a nightmare of movement all around as the trees are buffeted by the wind storm.

I squeeze my eyes shut, burying my face in my arms as I wait this out. God, it’s so cold. I don’t have my coat, I’m not even wearing shoes. And it’s loud. There’s the creaking of wood, the occasional snap of a branch that echoes like thunder, making me feel like I might get crushed at any second. Not to mention the terrifying knowledge that the ground is impossibly far away, waiting for me to meet it the second I slip.

This is hell. I’m in hell.

Think, I tell myself in the darkness behind my eyelids. How do I survive this? What can I possibly do?

I should count myself lucky that I was carried somewhere instead of falling straight down. I’m not where I want to be, but at least I’m not a mangled corpse on the ground. At least, not yet. I just… have to… make my way back. I have to climb down this tree. And walk back to the cabin. That’s the only choice, right? I can’t expect that my friends are going to find me here. I’m too small and too far away. I have to go back to them.

The wind dies down again and I peek over the edge of my arm, trying to get a sense of just how high up I am. It’s too dark and crowded with foliage to make out the ground. Not a good sign. But if I look out to the cabin, try to figure out how high I am in comparison to it… I’m level with a spot that’s somewhere between a first story and second story window. That’s over ten feet. Which to me is closer to 250 feet, straight down. I might as well be trying to climb down a clock tower without a harness. It feels impossible.

Carefully I try to form any kind of path down this cliff in my mind. Can I use the gnarled texture of the tree trunk for handholds? There’s another branch below me, just six or seven feet away at my scale. Let’s just… start there.

I shift over, pressing myself against the wall of the tree trunk, and tentatively stretch one leg out. My toes curl into the rough bark of the tree and, after several seconds of having to convince myself to move, I slide off the branch to begin the descent. My arms are already shaking from the cold and from the adrenaline. I cry out the second all of my weight is off the branch - the pain in my ribs from my crash landing is sharp and insistent. Especially when I’m halfway down to the next branch and I almost fall from another errant gust. I have to stop and hang on desperately and I very nearly lose my grip.

I’m whimpering by the time I make it. I’ve only traversed a few inches and I’m in agony. It’s so hard to see in the darkness or to move in the wind. There’s just no way. I’m not going to make it.

I spend several minutes looking down, trying to solve this impossible conundrum. Could I construct some kind of climbing gear from… something? Or at least make myself a parachute out of leaves? Or find a way to connect individual branches and form a path that way? It all feels so ridiculous. I’m completely losing hope.

Finally I decide to look upwards instead. It doesn’t seem like a productive thing to do, but I just have to look at something else for a second. And that’s when I see it. Off to the side, about thirty feet above me, I notice a small cave in the wood. A tree hollow.

Maybe there is another choice. Reach shelter. Wait out the storm. If I can get through the night, survive until morning when things are forecasted to be much calmer… Maybe in the light of day I’ll be able to find my way down and have a better chance of not getting knocked off.

Of course, that means I would have to climb even higher first. But as difficult as that seems, climbing up the shorter distance seems like the smarter thing to do. The only thing to do. I just have to keep moving. I can’t overthink things right now, my aching muscles have a time limit.

The journey takes me over half an hour. I almost lose my grip over a dozen times. My abdomen is screaming at me every time I hoist myself up and up along the tree trunk. My arms and legs are getting all scratched up, my hands and feet are going numb from the cold. I’m about two thirds of the way up when I break down into panicked cries, exhausted and completely convinced that there’s no way I’m going to reach my destination. But after an uncontrollable yet completely useless pity party, I eventually press on. And somehow, despite everything working against me… I make it. I reach the hollow and collapse into it. I’m a complete mess, trembling and weeping, but I’m still alive.

Oh thank god - whatever squirrel last used this spot as a nest has left behind clumps of fur. It’s old and there’s not much left, but I immediately burrow into it, covering myself in leaves and pine needles and fuzz. It helps, a little bit. But… it’s only a very little bit. The wind is still thrashing outside, and the temperature slowly continues to drop.

Several minutes later, I’m shivering more than ever. And I realize something dire. This isn’t sustainable. I’m losing more heat than I’m producing. Even if I don’t fall to my death tonight, I may instead get claimed by hypothermia. I have to do something about it.

I try to think about my long-ago college classes, racking my brain for any useful knowledge about heat transfer. I was supposed to take an entire heat transfer class at some point, too bad I never got there… The only thing that comes to mind is insulation. I need to think like a squirrel. And I need to make myself a better nest.

Well, if there’s one thing I can find close by it’s leaves. I hate the idea of venturing back out onto the tree branches, but I simply don’t have a choice. I’m convinced that I won’t be lasting the night otherwise.

I peer out of the hollow, and I can actually see a bit better now that I’ve gotten so used to the dark. It’s slightly brighter out here due to the lights coming from inside the cabin. I wait for a moment where the winds aren’t so tempestuous, and then I dart out. I try to move quickly but not recklessly. There are enough leaves and fallen pine needles in my immediate vicinity that I make swift progress, as tiring as it is to hoist what feels like oversized pool toys. At least it’s easier to move along the horizontal perch than it was to climb up the tree trunk. Over time I need to start venturing slightly further along the branch, each trip providing less and less success.

Out of nowhere I’m startled by a sudden light. I freeze in place like a rabbit, staring towards the cabin. The front porch light just turned on. And someone’s rushing out. First he’s peering his head out, and I can’t make out what he’s saying but his mouth is moving. Then he’s stepping outside, head whipping around as he scans the ground. Aiden’s looking for me. He must have realized that I’m out here!

Logic flies out the window. I start yelling at the top of my lungs, waving my hands, grabbing a nearby branch and shaking it - anything to get his attention. At first I’m just calling Aiden’s name, but as he ventures further onto the porch and more people start trickling out, I’m shouting the rest of their names for good measure.

“Behind you!” I cry, “Look up! Please, just look HERE!”

It’s useless. It’s so completely useless.

“FUUUUUCK!” I scream into the night, falling to my knees as despair rolls over me. The universe is just mocking me now. Fuck you, world. Fuck. You.

My throat is searing with pain at this point, but despite using everything in my power to make them notice me, all I’m doing is wearing myself out. I can barely make out the sound of their voices over the wind, they’re just too far away. Maybe I’d have a chance if they get closer, but… why on earth would they do that? Why would they assume that I’m as far as the tree line? In fact - yeah, Aiden’s making his way along the exterior wall of the cabin, still scanning the ground but hurrying directly towards the space under the loft. Of course he is. If they figured out that I fell out of the window, the assumption would be that I’m near said window. If only I’d gotten a better grip on that vine instead of soaring off into the woods…

I watch them for much longer than I should as I crouch down in the entrance of my meager shelter. They’re right there. They’re searching so desperately, it feels like they have to find me eventually. Star’s on her hands and knees, sifting through the grass and bushes on the ground. Diego’s giving Aiden a boost, hoisting him up to stand on his shoulders and get a closer look at the wall that’s near the window. I notice Moira’s silhouette is in the window itself - I’m guessing that’s where they all started looking before some of them branched off to go outdoors. I feel nervous for her, seeing how far she’s leaning out to be able to reach some of the vines. Camila shows up to join the rest on the ground, wearing warmer clothes and carrying several other coats and hats for the others to bundle up.

But they’re still too far. Even if they search all night, the odds that they’ll find me are so slim. It’s agonizing, but… I eventually realize that I have to stick to my original plan. With a clear view of my panicked friends to keep me company, I force myself to continue harvesting leaves.

Soon enough I’m starting to run out of material that’s in the vicinity. I could risk climbing to a different branch to get more, but it feels so dangerous - I’ve already come close to toppling off of this one several times. And at this point the hollow is mostly full anyway. Honestly, it’s this damn wind that’s the problem. Already a few leaves have escaped my little den, snatched right out of my hands by a vicious gust of air. I’m starting to worry that this shelter isn’t quite as dependable as I’d hoped.

I do what I think is my last run, scrounging up whatever remaining pine needles have gotten caught towards the end of the branch. But on my way back, something well above my head catches my eye. Even though I’m currently in what I think is an oak tree based on the shape of the leaves, there’s also a pine tree looming nearby like a cliff overhang, which is where all the pine needles must have come from. At some point it must have dropped a sizeable pinecone too, which is now perched precariously on a thin branch about fifteen feet up. When I scramble back into the hollow, my mind is very preoccupied. Because you know what might provide extra insulation while also protecting my tree cave from raging winds? A door.

I sit there for a while, trying to think about how I might possibly acquire the pinecone. I just wish I had better tools up here. If I at least had some kind of rope…

I look over the random assortment of junk that I’ve gathered into my cave. I briefly consider tying pine needles together, but when I try I’m unable to get the knots tight enough. It’s even worse with leaf stems. Maybe I could take some of these bits of broken twigs and acorns and try to just throw them at the pinecone to knock it down?

But then I’m looking at myself. Even in the dim light I can tell that the tips of my fingers and toes are bright pink from how cold I am. I don’t have a hat or gloves or a scarf, just some loose pants and a lightweight sweater that I’d crocheted. But that’s when I get a thought. I hate this idea, I’m not sure that it’s worth it but… I do have a form of rope at my disposal. I could start unraveling my sweater.

As I’m debating whether it’s worth making myself colder to get access to the thread, the universe taunts me again by sending a particularly nasty gust my way. It makes a branch snap somewhere nearby, and it sucks out a few leaves that are too close to the entrance. Things aren’t going to get any better - I need to act. I can bundle squirrel fur back around my torso later. It’s time to reveal some midriff.

I find the knotted end of the fine yarn at the hem of my top, and for a moment I fumble at it with numb fingers, until I give up and use my teeth. Eventually I rip into it, and from there I’m tugging at the thread, and it comes away easily, erasing hours of crochet work in seconds. I wind my arms around and around my abdomen, the garment becoming shorter and shorter. As soon as a sliver of skin is revealed I’m starting to regret this as I feel more precious heat escaping my body. But I push through, gauging how long my rope is and continuing to lengthen it until my sweater only reaches my ribs. I use my teeth again to saw off the string and try to retain whatever garment is left by tying off the end.

I loop my rope up into my hands as I think through the next step. I could try to form a lasso? Not sure how good I’d be at attempting fancy ropework in this windstorm, though. So ultimately I decide to tie the end of the thread to a broken piece of twig, figuring it would be easier to throw.

Shivering more than ever, I crawl back out into the open, face aimed high as I scuttle along the branch. Pinecone’s still there. I try to calculate in my head the best angle to approach this from and position myself accordingly. I have to hunker down for a while, grabbing onto a shoot that’s coming off of the main branch, while I hold out for the right moment to strike.

As I wait, laying almost flat against my swaying platform, I look over to my friends. All of them are searching low to the ground now, meticulously parsing through grass and foliage with the flashlights from their phones. They’re dramatically expanding the radius of their investigation, as I’m sure they’re figuring I could have been knocked farther by the wind, but it’s still nowhere remotely close to where I am, and none of them are looking upwards. Still, they’re putting so much effort into finding me. I have to do the same.

Between flurries of wind I make my attempts. Like a shot putter, I pull back my arm near my head and then launch my projectile as hard as I can. The first dozen attempts miss completely. And then finally the broken twig I’m throwing bounces off the top of the pinecone and tumbles to the other side. I yank on it and let out a victorious shout as the thread gets tangled in the pinecone’s scales.

And then I almost die.

I’m such an idiot, I should have just tied down the other end of the rope, to make sure I didn’t drop it if nothing else. But instead what happens is that the second I try to pull the pinecone towards me, I lose my balance on the unstable branch. My stomach lurches as I fall forward, my rope slipping between my fingers for a second before I cling to it in a panic. And I’m dangling in the open air now, below the branch I was just standing on, only being held by a pinecone that’s teetering on its perch, dangerously high above me.

“Fuck… this… shit…” I gasp, and I’m already looking around myself for any kind of solution. At first I try to scramble back up the rope, but I’m slipping, my fingers aren’t strong enough. I’m going to fall off before I get up. The only reason I haven’t fallen quite yet despite the potential injury in my abdomen is sheer adrenaline and many months of practice at being this size. I pause and try to think…. Think… Come on…

The unrelenting winds attack me with a vengeance. I’m whipped so hard to the side that it feels like my arms will get ripped out of their sockets, and I almost crash into the trunk of the tree.

Wait, I think as I swing back the other way, curled up in a ball like a pill bug. Actually… that can work. There’s no way I can scale the length of this rope right now. But maybe if I used momentum…

Moving quickly, I first carefully use my legs to thread the leftover rope that’s dangling between them, and I hook it around one of my thighs. I take a chance by sitting back on the rope a little bit as I raise my ankle to lift the slackened thread up. Moving as quickly as possible, I hold on tight with one hand while I use the other one to snatch at the loose end of the rope, and then I’m immediately gripping the main line with both hands again, gasping with fear. I clumsily use my teeth and my fingertips to make a simple knot, and I now have a loop to sit on instead of just depending on my arms as I dangle. This is still incredibly precarious - I’m gripping both ropes together for dear life, not daring to rely on my shoddy knot alone.

I begin to swing. I don’t even think about how this might knock the pinecone off, it’s a risk I have to take. It’s actually not that difficult to gain momentum, the goddamn wind is seeing to that. The tricky part is aiming. I lurch towards the trunk without quite reaching, once… twice… And then I’m pushed towards it with so much speed that I’m certain the impact will ruin me – at the last second I twist and loosen my grip instinctively and I sail upwards, past the home branch–

And straight through the entrance of the tree hollow. I crash and roll, the impact mollified by the nest that I’ve built. I’m in so much pain. But I’m incredibly lucky to have made it.

I’m still holding the end of my thread, and there’s no way I’m giving up on that pinecone after all that. I do what I should have done from the start and stay safely inside my tree cave, bracing my feet against the edge of the entrance and pulling with all my might - which isn’t saying much at this point. The pinecone is eventually dislodged from its perch and drops down in front of me, onto the branch, and thankfully it’s light enough that I can drag it the rest of the way without too much issue.

I glance one last time at my friend group, completely ignorant of what I just went through. I stare at Aiden’s profile as he gets to his feet to look up ahead of him, looking crestfallen and desperate. Tears well up in my eyes, and then I yank onto the pinecone to wedge it inside the entryway as much as possible.

I use leaves to stuff the empty spaces around my new door, and with this added layer of insulation it’s quieter now. It’s darker, too. I feel around blindly as I push myself under the remaining layers of leaves, bundling up my rope against my stomach in a meager attempt to patch up my sweater, and burrowing into the squirrel fur as much as I can.

My muscles give out. Everything hurts. I can feel my scar on the back of my calf throbbing from the bitter chill. I’m still so cold. Am I going to survive the night?

I squeeze my eyes shut and reach for my old mantra. Don’t give up. Fight back. Work harder.

I wince at the sharp pain in my ribs. They feel worse than ever after my most recent fall. Will I even be able to climb down come morning if they’re broken?

Don’t give up… Fight back… Work harder…

I start wrapping my extra thread around my hands and feet to protect the extremities that have gone completely numb. It feels pointless.

Don’t give up… Don’t…

I just want to see him. I just want him to hold me again. Please.

Don’t…

[Olo]

@littlest-lily Aiden isn’t going to get a wink of sleep.

[littlest-lily]

@Olo Truth. None of them are

[littlest-lily]

Chapter 77
Evie

It’s morning.

I’m aching from head to toe, exhausted, hungry, dehydrated. I hardly got a wink of sleep during this long, grueling night. But after hours and hours of misery, it sounds like the wind has finally died down. And when I force my head up and out of my pile of leaves and fur, I see some dim rays of sunlight poking in from around the pinecone door.

I let out a deep, long sigh. Part of it comes from the relief of having survived the night. But the other part is me bracing myself. Because I am quite literally not out of the woods yet. I now have the dreaded climb ahead of me, and I’m not in my best state to do it.

I drag myself out of a bed that’s better suited for rodents, stretching my sore muscles. I rip out some of the leaves that I’d wedged into the doorway, and then I push against the pinecone so that it starts to tip over. I’m not worried about being careful with it, and sure enough it ends up rolling away and plummeting to the ground. Whatever. It’s not like I’ll be spending any more nights here.

It’s strangely silent in the woods, the air is so still now. And holy shit is it freezing. I felt cold to the bone for the entire night, but now that I step out into the open air I realize the hollow was downright warm in comparison. Small bits of frost sit in patches along the surrounding branches, tiny ice crystals on the orange leaves glinting in the pre-dawn light. Meanwhile I’m in a crop top and have no shoes on. Lovely.

My friends are nowhere to be seen. I heard their voices from time to time in the night, always in the distance. For a moment I wonder if they decided to eventually go to bed. But no, of course not - I don’t see them from here but I can catch Star and Diego’s faint voices coming from around the corner of the cabin. I can’t quite make out the words, but their tones sound weary. I’m not the only one who had a rough night, that’s for sure.

Well, no time like the present. I need to start climbing while I still have any of my strength left. I feel a wave of vertigo as I look down the length of the tree trunk. At least I’m now able to see that it’s a fairly straightforward path since the branches are no longer swaying. While I was laying in the dark this morning I blindly manipulated the rope I still have, tying it to myself and knotting off some loops so that I can hopefully use it as climbing gear. I pretend that I’m just about to head down my packing station back home as I find a protruding ridge in the tree bark and hook the end of my rope onto it. Down I go.

I’m at it for hours. I’m being so careful, so meticulous about making sure my safety rope is attached to something as often as possible. The persistent pain in my ribs is thankfully not as sharp as last night, but it still makes the process grueling and slow. At least it’s a lot easier now that the air is still, so I do think it was for the best that I didn’t attempt this climb last night. I pause and rest every time I reach another branch, and as the readily available frost begins to melt in the morning light, I drink some of the dew. The water is hard to get down, it’s so cold, but the hydration is too necessary to pass up.

Eventually I reach the part that I was most dreading. Past a certain height there are no more branches, just solid trunk all the way down. There are still plenty of handholds, but it becomes increasingly difficult to find anchors for my climbing rope, and there are zero opportunities to sit and rest. My arms and legs shake from the exertion as I slowly inch my way down. I have several moments where I almost start crying from the fear that I’ll surely fall off before I make it. But somehow I manage to keep it together with the knowledge that if I lose my composure, I’m dead.

And little by little, I’m getting closer to the ground. My arms are growing weak, but even though I started a couple hundred feet up the tree, I’m now at the point where I’m only a hundred feet up instead. My hands and feet are scratched up and raw, my sore ribs feel like they’re getting electrocuted every time I twist in just the wrong way. But now I’m just fifty feet up. And I finally start to regain hope.

“Almost there,” I whisper fervently to myself. “Almost there!”

Despite the frigid state of my body, my limbs are burning when I glance down and realize the ground is close enough that I’d survive the fall. I keep going, maintaining a steady pace, until I finally lose patience when I’m my own body length up from the forest floor. I let myself slide down the rope, toppling the last short distance until my feet hit the ground at long last.

I could kiss the earth if it didn’t feel like the inside of a freezer. I don’t care that I’m wasting water, I cry happy tears, collapsing to hands and knees as my shoulders shake with relieved sobs. I’m not dead. I made it to the ground again and I’m alive.

But I’m not done yet. Come on. Just a little further. I have to walk now.

This last stretch shouldn’t be the hardest part of my journey, and yet it’s what almost does me in. At this point I’m just too worn, too cold, too weak. I trudge towards the looming cabin that’s half a mile ahead of me, the terrain below my feet changing from the dirt of the forest floor to patches of grass. I ended up abandoning my climbing rope that was originally part of my shirt, my skin having long since grown numb from how exposed it is to the cold. I have my eyes set on the cabin’s front door - I haven’t even spared a thought about how I’m going to get up the couple of porch steps at its base - until I notice two figures in the distance, visible once I exit the tree line.

I alter course, briefly hurrying once I see him. I absently realize that I’m failing to pace myself, but I don’t care.

Aiden’s sitting on a grassy slope near the cabin, his back unfortunately facing me. He has his arm around Moira who’s sitting next to him, holding her tightly. Their heads are downcast, their shoulders drooping. The grass is getting tall enough that even if they were looking my way they probably couldn’t see me, but the relatively short distance is still so agonizing. Just a couple hundred more feet.

I trip and fall to my knees seconds before I see Moira stand up. Her hand trails on Aiden’s shoulder, and they mutter something to each other before she turns to leave. She still isn’t quite facing me as she goes, though, and I feel like I might burst inside with frustration. I fixate the lone giant who’s still sitting as I start to see spots dancing in my vision. Just stay right there, babe. Wait for me.

The exhaustion is painful. I’m unable to get back to standing. But the adrenaline of seeing him pushes me on, and I crawl on hands and knees to drag myself forward, shivering violently from touching even more of the frozen ground. Thankfully I bide my time on using my voice. I think I might pass out if I start yelling, I have to get closer and make it count.

My hearing begins to sound muffled. I feel like I might throw up, and for a moment my vision fades to blackness despite my limbs still moving. I’m suddenly jolted back to consciousness when my face hits the dirt. I gasp in fear of how dizzy I am, and it’s so much harder to move now that I’ve stopped. I try to push myself back up, at least to sitting, but my arms are firmly protesting. I’m the equivalent of a block or two away. I risk it.

“Aiden.”

The sound comes out scratchy, dry, weak. I curse inwardly as I know I was too quiet. But from some instinct, the giant ahead of me twitches. I see him lift his head.

“Aiden!”

I was more successful in yelling this time. My voice is clear and ringing. And immediately he reacts, straightening up and turning his head - to the left, right, and finally whipping around to look behind him, wildly searching the ground, until our eyes meet.

As soon as his gaze locks on to my fallen figure, Aiden’s launching himself forward, crawling over to me so fast that I barely have time to blink before he’s right on top of me. His arm is already reaching out as he whispers, “Oh god, Evie–”

He scoops me into his hands, slightly more clumsily than usual from the fact that he’s wearing gloves. I roll onto the nylon surface, whimpering from the sheer relief of being reunited, hot tears running down my face. I’m shot upwards as my giant partner lifts me to his mouth, and for a moment my dizzied mind thinks that it’s to kiss me. But instead he starts exhaling heavily onto my body, desperately trying to warm me up with his breath. It makes my numb skin prickle to an almost painful degree. But I can tell it’s so, so needed.

After a few more exhales, he silently pulls me away again, and if I had the strength I’d be complaining about him stopping. He holds me with one hand and uses his teeth to rip his glove off the other before tipping me onto his bare skin. Oh wow, the heat is overwhelming, but at the same time it’s fantastic. I curl up into his palm as he gets the other glove off, and he cups both hands around me now and continues to breathe warm air onto me. My stomach lurches as I vaguely realize he’s getting to his feet, but I don’t worry about that, I let my eyes close as I bask in his presence, enjoying each wave of heat that envelops me. I catch the scent of chocolate and sugar… It’s hard to believe that the time we were relaxing and enjoying a sweet treat together was just last night.

Things get a little fuzzy at this point. My eyes are still closed but I can tell that we’re moving, I think we go back inside… I hear a couple of different voices, though everything sounds so far away… I’m starting to tremble a little less, but I’m not sure if that’s because I’m getting warmer or if my muscles are just completely giving out…. I’m hardly conscious of my damp, meager clothing getting removed or my body getting poked and prodded…

When I come to again, there’s something heavy pushing against my front. My eyelids don’t want to move and I frown as I stir under the warm weight, unable to budge the massive… um… finger?

Someone’s voice is coming into clarity. “…bruised ribs for sure but I don’t think anything major’s broken… Lungs are working fine…”

Finally I force my eyes to open to a squint. The looming face of a sleep-deprived Diego is hovering above me. I’m unable to show it right now, but I’m incredibly relieved to see him too.

“Eyyy, there she is,” he says softly with a smile as he notices me waking up. “Good morning.”

I glance around from my pinned position. I recognize Aiden’s hand below me, I haven’t moved from his palm. But I seem to be getting examined by our resident nurse. His fingertip is covering my upper chest and pressing up against my jugular… I guess he’s trying to find my pulse.

“You know, you really freaked us out there, Shrimp,” Diego adds, shifting his finger slightly to the side. “No more crazy benders in the woods, okay?"

I may not have the strength to speak at the moment, but apparently I have enough to lift my hand up and extend one tiny middle finger his way.

He releases an amused breath before looking up to address Aiden. “Heart rate’s still a bit low… I think she’ll be alright, all we can do right now is warm her back up. At least there’s no frostbite, as far as I can tell.”

“Should I heat up some water for a bath?” Moira’s voice asks shakily from somewhere I can’t see.

“That might be good for her to sip on if she can stomach it - but no, don’t put her in it, the shock of that can fuck up her heart. You’re doing the right thing, Aiden, keep using your body heat. Skin to skin. Go rest, I’ll check in again once I get a hold of Star, she should take a look at her too.”

I squeeze my eyes shut as everything starts moving again. A minute later I’m transferred to a new, even warmer surface… I gather my giant has just put me on his bare chest as he laid down, his palm now at my back. There are a couple more sounds - Moira says to let her know if we need anything, Aiden thanks her, a door creaks to be mostly shut. And then finally things grow still and quiet.

I sigh as I let myself relax. I’m starting to be convinced that the shivering has abated for the right reasons, and I’m able to feel slightly more comfortable overall. A smile finds its way onto my face. I actually made it. I’m safe.

After a few minutes of silence, I rub my cheek affectionately against Aiden’s chest. His thumb lightly brushes against the side of my head and his exhale is tight.

“I was sure you were dead,” he whispers.

My heart hurts at the heaviness in his voice, and my joke is weak as I force out a response. “Can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He continues gently stroking my head as I let it rest against his skin. “I can’t imagine what you’ve just been through…” he says, “The temperatures dropped to near freezing last night. And you fell out of that window, right? How are you alive right now?”

It takes me a little while to get through the story of my solo night in the trees. As I slowly regain strength, I explain everything from the moment Camila accidentally locked me out, all the way through the frigid morning. I can’t quite decide if recounting such fresh horrors is unloading the trauma or only making it worse by reliving it, so instead I’m just mentally distancing myself from my own words for now. Aiden listens intently, completely silent aside from the occasional sympathetic winces at the more intense bits.

He continues to lay quietly once I’m done, as if deep in thought. So quiet, in fact, that I tilt my head back to try and catch sight of his expression. But his face is out of sight from my current angle, and his muscles are tense below me, so I finally ask him, “What is it?”

He inhales deeply before answering. “It’s truly hitting me right now… I haven’t been giving you enough credit. You’re so much more capable than I realized.”

I didn’t expect that response and almost laugh. “Trust me,” I say, “I did not exactly feel like a badass.”

“Still,” he murmurs, completely sincere. “I mean… Just look at how much you’ve accomplished in the time I’ve known you. All the things you’ve built, all the challenges you’ve faced. Like when we went back to the lab and you got that flashdrive, all on your own. Or persevering through that leg injury. And now surviving a night alone in the woods during a storm, and then getting yourself back home. You’re amazing, Evie.”

Emotion wells up inside of me, more intensely than I would have expected. I’m glad one of us has found any kind of silver lining to what I just went through. Because I don’t think I’ve ever felt less capable in my life than I do right now.

Aiden readjusts his grip so that he can gently press his fingers into a hug around me, sliding me up just a little bit over his heart. “I’m both in awe of how incredibly strong you are… and at the same time I never want to let you out of my sight again.”

I’m unable to answer him right now. A tear rolls down my cheek, and I feel like I might be on the brink of a full meltdown as I spare a thought for what the future might hold. What other trials might be waiting for me past today. My constantly overwhelming reality, and the dangers lurking behind each innocuous moment.

I hear a slight sound that makes me flinch, though it’s too subtle for my giant partner to notice. I glance towards the door to our room, still open by a crack, and I notice a sliver of a face. A dark eyed beauty, peering in towards us. She lingers for a beat, too obscured for me to make out her expression, before her eye narrows and she quietly moves on.

My breathing is coming in short now. I suddenly face myself, as if glaring at my own reflection in a mirror.

Seriously. What is wrong with me? Why am I so insistent on running away from my issues and stubbornly clinging to my current status quo? I don’t care what Aiden just said - it’s beyond obvious that I am so incredibly fragile. How many close calls have we had now? How many times do I need to come close to fucking dying before I finally just face my past and go to the authorities who might actually be able to help me get my old size back? What am I fucking waiting for?

But even as I think this, even as I start crying hard enough for my boyfriend to lift his head and stroke my back with worried whispers, it’s all pointless. All it takes right now is a single sound. A distant police siren, completely unrelated to us, miles away in the mountains. A simple reminder from the universe that brings me right back into my own fear. As if trying to convince a potential interloper that no one’s home by fervently shutting off all the light switches in the house, my brain desperately chases away any thoughts of seeking help.

I bury myself into Aiden’s protective warmth. Determined to never leave it again.

~ End of Part 3: Something in the Air ~

[littlest-lily]

OKOKOK deep breaths

Sorry, what a whirlwind of an event to leave things on! Boy do I have my work cut out for me in Part 4… Which is looking like it might be even longer than part 3 ahhhhhh why do I do this to myself. Please bear with me as I work on this final installment, it may take me quite a bit of time (especially because there’s a non-zero chance that I’ll be moving across the country at some point in the next year). I also might bounce between a few different projects, since I want to make sure I don’t get burnt out on Out of their Element, and I’d like to be able to continue posting things from time to time during the wait. But I’m so dedicated to completing Aiden and Evie’s story, rest assured. The entire rest of the story is mapped out… I just need to write it!

By the way, I’m curious if anyone’s able to guess if anyone’s able to guess the title of part 4. I’ll give you a major hint and point out the titles of the first three parts…
Part 1: Trial by Fire
Part 2: Down to Earth
Part 3: Something in the Air

Thank you as always for making my lil creative projects so much fun to share. I get excited at every single comment that comes in and love hearing your thoughts so much. Your support means the world! I’ll keep you updated on what I’m working on my DeviantArt, I have so many ideas that I can’t wait to bring to life~ Take care and happy holidays!

[Olo]

@littlest-lily Lots of thoughts, but right now I am just picturing Aiden holding Evie and remembering the first time I let an infant fall asleep on my chest and I was perfectly content to be a mattress for the whole night.

[littlest-lily]

@Olo Argh, yes. I’ve experienced this relatively recently actually with my own kids, and it’s a pretty good comparison.

[littlest-lily]

Hi there! I’m no longer active here but I wanted to just give the update that I finally got through a bunch of my LIFE stuff and am going to start posting again~ For anyone who’s still interested, I will be updating on DeviantArt (here’s the announcement link: https://www.deviantart.com/littlest-lily/art/1378044487?action=published), or on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlest_lily

Take care