She groaned loudly with each movement, suppressing her cries so she didn't adopt like she had woken up from a dream. A dream that had lasted a century. She was completely sure she wasn't in a dream herself. The house was quiet. Lotte was back in Fitz's bed and not on the table where she remembered.
She looked down at her right hand which was covered in a white bandage. It stung and had dark red stains soaked through.
Lotte reached for her boots at the side of the bed and quickly slipped them on. To her surprise, she didn't wobble when she stood up. She felt quite steady. Steady enough that she went running down the stairs.
There was a small fire nearlandoy burnt out. Dishes were still cluttered all over the table. The glass that had been broken was cleaned up and disposed of.
Lotte looked into each of the sleeping bags and found all of them empty. Normally there would be axes stuck in the walls or knives stabbed into pillows. Nothing. If it weren't for the freshly spilled milk and stacked blanket fort, Lotte would have worried they left.
The backyard still had arrows in the grass and the trees. Lotte recognized one of Fitz's jackets crumbled up against the house. She grabbed it and put it on, zipping it up all the way. Previous beer bottles had been smashed into tiny pieces by Fitz going into a fit of rage. His sword was stabbed into a tree. Suggesting he had been here this morning. Lotte grabbed the sword by the handle and yanked it. After a few tries she managed to break it loose and began walking where she suspected Fitz to be.
The forest was quiet as if it too was struck by suspense. Lotte knew this was a bad idea. If she was caught by Black Jack or any of his crew she would never see Fitz again. And he had to be looking for her. Black Jack wouldn't give up that easily. Especially since Fitz killed Everet. Black Jack had many reasons to hunt down them both.
As Lotte reached her suspected destination she began to pick up space. Her walk turned into a jog and her jog turned into a sprint. She ran faster than she ever did with Ilse. It probably wasn't a good idea to run so fast with a sword in her hand. But she wasn't leaving the sword behind nor was she slowing down.
As the trees broke, Lotte could see him. He was sitting on the edge of the rocks above the water where Lotte swam for the first time since she was a kid. Fitz had a fist full of rocks that he threw nearly to the other side of the lake.
Up until this point Lotte had been watching where she stepped. But the sight of Fitz made her completely forget everything she worried about. Lotte dropped her sword to her side and slowly took a step forward. As her boot hit the ground the snap of a loud twig. Loud enough for birds in surrounding trees to scatter.
Fitz stood up quickly, pulling out a dagger Lotte didn't know he had. The two quickly noticed one another and it felt like everything had gone still again. Neither of them moved forward. It all felt so uncertain.
After many minutes of silence, Lotte realized she was still clenching the sword. She dropped it quickly and didn't break eye contact with Fitz. The sword clanked on the rock, falling into the dirt. Almost as if it was making a peace offering.
Fitz slowly slipped his dagger back into the casing. Lotte took a small step forward that turned into a sprint before her foot even touched the ground. Even on the such rocky ground she didn't trip or stumble. Fitz's entire body relaxed before she even reached him. His knees felt weak and all the air he was holding in was released in one big exhale. Lotte hit him with a powerful force. He barely managed to keep his footing as he picked up; using her momentum to twirl her. One arm wrapped around Lotte's waist and the other gripped at her hair. Lotte's arms wrapped around his neck, almost choking him. But he didn't care. Nothing mattered except him and her.
"Lotte," he mumbled quietly as if trying to convince himself she was real. It all felt too good to be real.
He had spent every moment leading up to this imagining what this would feel like. It felt better than he had ever imagined. He wasn't sure if he could let her go.
Somehow he did. Somehow Fitz put Lotte down and let her step back so he could get a better look at her.
The two stammered at each other, both having so much to say.
"I'm sorry," Lotte broke through. "I'm so sorry!"
"Don't," Fitz put his hand up to Lotte's cheek. Grabbing a fist full of her hair. "Don't ever be sorry. I'm sorry. Are you ok?"
"Am I ok?" Lotte laughed. "Are you ok? I nearly killed you. I smashed a–"
Fitz cut Lotte off by pulling her into another hug. Lotte immediately forgot what she was going to say next. It wasn't important anyway. Fitz knew what she meant.
"I thought I was never going to see you again," Lotte mumbled into Fitz's shoulder.
"I won't ever leave you behind," said Fitz. "No matter what."
Lotte had so much to explain, so much she needed to say. However, all she could say right now was, "Thank you."
The two pulled away awkwardly. Lotte had only been away for a few days but for both of them, it felt like weeks. The pain they felt in their core made it feel like months. Both of them felt brittle at this moment. Like a gust of wind would turn them into dust if it blew too hard.
Fitz took another look at Lotte like he still hadn't convinced himself she was standing in front of him.
"Can I—" Fitz started but was cut off by a snapping twig.
Without missing a beat Fitz quickly pulled out his dagger. With his free arm, he pushed Lotte behind him, using himself as a shield Lotte from their attacker.
"Easy, easy," Trigger emerged from the forest with his hands up.
Fitz sighed with annoyance before sliding the dagger back in. Trigger who was unfazed put his hands back down. Without slowing down his pace he walked over to Lotte. Slowly Fitz put his arm back down, unblocking her so Trigger could reach her.
"Are you sain?" Trigger asked a couple of feet away from her. Lotte nodded and Trigger didn't hesitate to pull her into a hug. "It's good to have you back. Hopefully, this one will settle down now," he said, gesturing to Fitz. "I haven't had a proper night's sleep since you left."
The hug took Lotte by surprise, but she enjoyed it, hugging him back. He was stronger than he looked. A lot stronger than any thirteen-year-olds she had ever met.
"How's your nose?" Lotte asked, looking at the purple bruise spread across his nose and eyes.
Trigger shrugged, "Not the first time my nose has been broken. And it won't be the last. I'm proud of you, honestly. It was a good hit."
Lotte laughed but couldn't press down the guilt she felt. She knew Trigger didn't or would ever hold it against her. He didn't look like he was in pain. But Lotte knew he was hiding it. So that she wouldn't feel guilty.
Trigger looked away from Lotte and Fitz. Who was waiting patiently? It wasn't till a couple of days ago that Trigger found out about Fitz's hiding spot. He only went there unless he had something important to say.
"Black Jack's brought another boy," Trigger broke the news. "He looks about nine."
Without saying anything, Fitz began walking back to the house. Leaving Lotte and Trigger standing behind him. The two looked at each other confused before following.
"So when are we going?" Trigger asked.
"We aren't," Fitz said as he picked the sword up from the ground. He kept walking without looking back. Trigger looked at Lotte for an answer. Only to be met with the same confused stare Lotte was giving him.
"Why not?" Trigger asked as he began walking to catch up with Fitz. Lotte struggled to keep up with the rushed pace but kept her place beside Trigger.
"I'm not taking any more chances," Fitz said.
"Fitz, he's nine," Trigger protested. "You think he's a spy?" Fitz didn't answer. Trigger let out a loud sigh, "So you're just going to let him die? This is what Black Jack wants!"
Fitz turned around, trying not to unleash his anger. "Black Jack was going to win either way! He knew that. Either Lotte was going to kill all of us, or I wouldn't trust saving anyone else. And he could sell as many kids to Looters as he wants."
"We're not saving anyone?" Trigger asked, "Ever?"
"No," Fitz said. "I'm retiring."
"Retiring–" Trigger nearly choked at the word and how ridiculous it sounded. He looked at Lotte but Lotte was as speechless as he was. Neither of them wanted to risk making Fitz angrier.
Once back at the house, Trigger went straight to the kitchen to eat whatever was left in the fridge. The dim fire Lotte saw when leaving was now fully out.
"Are you hungry?" Fitz asked, pulling a bowl of stolen food away from Trigger. Trigger rolled his eyes before retreating to the cupboards.
Lotte nodded sheepishly but in reality, she was starving. Her stomach did not quickly adjust from having a feast for breakfast, lunch and dinner to having nothing at all.
"Since you're normal now," Trigger began with a mouth full of food. "Why do you reek of beer?"
Lotte felt her face go red as she thought back to the nights she spent drinking herself silly.
"I drank a lot of rum," she said quietly.
Lotte heard a snicker escape from Trigger's mouth. It had almost turned into a full-blown laugh before Fitz swatted him in the arm. Trigger cleared his throat as he stared at a smirking Lotte.
"We're still going to steal food, right?" He asked with caution.
Fitz currently had his back turned well trying to fix a broken cupboard that he broke from slamming it too hard.
"Yeah," Fitz said, somewhat getting the door to stick to the wall. "I'll go tonight."
"I'm coming with you," Lotte said.
"Not," Fitz and Trigger said at the same time. Lotte huffed. She expected that answer from Fitz but not from Trigger.
"I know the layout of the ship," Lotte said. "I know where they keep everything."
"You spent two days on the ship," said Fitz. "I spent nearly four years there. I know where they keep stuff."
Lotte groaned at Fitz's undeniable point. Even with her situation, Lotte did not want to go back to never being able to help with anything. Major fought more battles than she did.
"You need to rest," Fitz said to a silent but glaring Lotte. "I'll make sure someone stays with you."
Lotte didn't want to rest. She wanted to fight, she wanted revenge. But disobeying Fitz meant risking getting captured by Black Jack. Hell, even not disobeying Fitz meant risking getting captured by Black Jack.
"At least give me something to do."
"Lotte," Trigger answered before Fitz got the chance. "I would kill to be in your position right now."
Lotte could see the guilt behind Fitz's eyes. His fingers tapped aggressively on the table as he fought off the urge to save Black Jack's newest kidnap. He knew Black Jack had planned this all along. And giving up meant Black Jack had won. Fitz always told himself he would never let Black Jack win, no matter what. Yet here he was, letting Black Jack go without a fight.
"You can stay here tonight, Trigger," Fitz said as he stood up. "I'm going alone."
"No, you're not!" This time it was Lotte and Trigger who were sharing a sentence. Normally no one would question Fitz's ability to handle Black Jack on his own. But the status of Black Jack's insanity was unknown and going would be the same as suicide.
"You all need a break," Fitz said without leaving room for argument. "I've worked you too hard."
"When was the last time you slept?" Trigger said, drawing Lotte's attention further. "When was it?"
Trigger knew the answer just as well as Fitz did. He wasn't sure what point he was going to make with this or if it would have an effect at all. "Not since she left."
Lotte struggled to keep her jaw from falling. How was he still standing? How was he still alive? It wasn't until now Lotte noticed how dark it was underneath Fitz's eyes. How red his eyes were. She had been so excited to see him again Lotte blocked it all out. Fitz looked like he was on the verge of collapse. She cursed herself out for not noticing earlier.
"I'll take a nap," Fitz said as he headed towards the stairwell. "Wake me up when it gets dark and not a second later."
The house stayed in silence except for the creaking of the stairs that kept getting farther away. Both Lotte and Fitz stared at the stairwell until the sound of a door shutting rang out.
"With any luck, he won't wake up until morning," Fitz said. Tearing a piece of bread off with his mouth like a dog.
"You're not going to wake him up?"
"He'll be angry if I do, angry if I don't," Trigger said. "I would much rather deal with an angry but well-rested Fitz; than an angry and tired Fitz. I think I'm going to crash too. Do you need anything?"
Lotte shook her head, "I'm good."
"Let me know if anyone comes in with a severed head," Fitz said before crashing into one of the hammocks.
Lotte remained sitting at the table until loud snores were all she could hear. This just happened to be a matter of seconds. She left Trigger's leftover bread where it sat and walked upstairs. The bedroom door was left slightly open. Lotte opened it slowly to see Fitz unconscious on the bed. She chuckled at the boy who looked like he barely made it onto the bed before collapsing. But he was sleeping soundly nonetheless. Lotte grabbed onto his arms and attempted to pull him up closer to the pillows. Fitz's body weight was about double what she imagined. Even with the grunting and pulling the boy still didn't wake up or show any signs that he was going to. She placed Fitz in the middle of the bed before calling it quits and just bought a pillow to put underneath his head.
Fitz's skin was dirty and covered with dirt as well as his hair. Almost making it look like a darker shade. He looked like a little boy who had gone rolling in his mother's garden with the dog. His clothes were no dirtier than before.
Even though she had done it before, it felt weird to Lotte to lay down beside him. Her adrenaline had worn off and she was finding it hard to keep her eyes open. After draping a jacket over Fitz Lotte walked over to the window where she almost escaped the night before. With her face pressed to the outside world, she could hear the laughter of the other boys, who were somewhere in the forest.
Before sitting down, she took another look at Fitz; who hadn't moved since she last saw him. Using her arm as a pillow, Lotte rested her head on the windowsill. Her other hand twirled around the fabric of her dress, occupying her mind until she fell asleep.