It is dawn, and none of them have slept.

Clara made the journey back to Hubert's house, her arms wrapped around his torso as the horse carried them into town. She did not speak the entire ride, for she was not sure what she could say, if she wanted to say anything. The silence is peaceful.

During the journey, Hubert noticed her hand. How the rot crawls on it, spreading over her fingers and up to her palm. She still has use of it, which means it is progressing slowly. He thinks that he has even less time with her then he had imagined. Yet, he can't help but be pulled to her. He is the needle of a compass and she is north.

Once they arrived, Clara was so tired she could barely stand. They made it inside the house, and Clara took a seat on the couch in the sitting room. She put her head on Hubert's shoulder, and let herself lull into a state between sleep and consciousness. One where she felt like she was falling backwards, and where her eyes were heavy.

Hubert likes listening to Clara's soft breaths. Each one seems larger than the last. Clara is larger than life itself. She is magnificent.

"Would you like to sleep in my bed?" he asks as dawn creeps in through the window. It lights her in a warm glow.

When she shakes her head, she snuggles in closer to him.

"I can sleep out here," he insists.

Finally, Clara pulls away from him. She wipes at the exhaustion in her eyes, hoping to peel it back. It barely works. Clara has never wanted to sleep more. "I am alright, Hubert. Really, I am."

"I just," Hubert sighs. "I wanted to tell you that I did not leave to go after Flo because I thought they had taken you. After that, I could not bare to leave your side."

Clara leans over to look at him. He brushes a strand of her windswept hair behind her ear. His fingers light a trail of fire across her cheekbones and jaw. She tilts her head up, instinctively, to get a better look at him.

"What was it like to have a wife you loved with everything?" Clara asks, because even though she doesn't want to think about her husband, in this moment, he appears. Haunting her, a ghost from the future.

Hubert swallows. Normally, he is a confident man, but now he feels his voice stolen (not by his nerves, but by his dead wife). "Quite like this, Clara Bennet."

Her fingers begin to tremble. She lifts a hand up to his face, and he cups it against itself. Clara feels tears in her eyes.

"This nervous?"

"No, it never felt like I was breaking a rule to be with Élise," Hubert says. "Clara, you are worth breaking the rules of time itself."

It happens too quickly.

She leans in and kisses him, her lips shaking against his. He deepens this kiss, leaning in and pulling at her clothes. She wraps her hands in his messy hair, and they still quiver as she pulls at his hair. He pulls her on to his lap.

They break apart, and press their foreheads against each other.

~~~

Mickey stormed out of the cabin hours ago and began to wander the forest. He brought a shovel with him, and he digs hole after hole for no reason. He needs something to occupy his hands. He feels like he is digging his own grave.

Clara has yet to return, and she is with the horrible Hubert Tremblay.

Mickey throws the shovel, and it lands in the rot. He watches as the rot begins to corrode the metal, and the shovel sinks in deeper. The forest is getting stronger, and Mickey doesn't give a damn.

At dawn, Bev decides to go looking for him. Since Maverick doesn't want her to go alone, Alvaro tags along.

Outside, Bev rounds the corner, just as Alvaro and Maverick exit the cabin.

With her just out of earshot, Alvaro dares let words pass through his lips. "Mickey dug Tim a grave. If you'd ever want to go, I would be willing to come with you. Not willing. Wanting, I mean."

Maverick runs fingers through his hair. He bites his lip and lets out a deep sigh. "I had better go alone."

"We don't go places alone anymore," Alvaro tries to reason with him. He takes a step closer and reaches out for Maverick's hand. "We don't need to hide here."

Maverick wants to be found. "It's not that. I am a bad man."

Alvaro snorts a laugh. The moment is cruel, and his lips twist into a frown. "Trust me. If you knew anything that I had done, you would not think so."

He doesn't let Maverick ask a question. Instead, he walks away.

Bev waited for him near the entrance to the forest. She looks up at him, a small smile on her face. "Where is Maverick?"

When Alvaro shrugs, the two head off into the deep woods.

It isn't difficult to find Mickey, since he left a trail of holes leading to his location. As they walk through, Beverly does her best to kick back in most of the dirt. It does little to help, but it makes the ground much less uneven. Eventually, they find him, sitting in the largest hole of his creation.

"Are you going to sulk for the rest of time, or are you going to get up?" Alvaro asks.

Mickey glares back. His eyes are blackened from exhaustion. His head aches more than his heart at this point. He worries that if he were to speak, flames would come pouring out of his mouth.

"You wouldn't ask if you understood," Mickey counters.

"Oh, you are so full of shit," Alvaro counters. "I may not be in love, but I have damned feelings. I've been turned down before."

"I'm not being turned down though," Mickey rubs his forehead and stands up. He's ready for a fight. He wants to get hit, so the outside hurts like the inside. "She kissed me just two days ago. And I'm not even mad about that. I just... Hubert is a bad man."

"Well, he..." Alvaro trails off. "Well, being crazy doesn't mean being bad."

"I always have fun with Hubert," Bev doesn't want to bring up her conversation with Clara, because she feels that would be a betrayal of trust. She doesn't want to see Mickey hurt though.

Bev knows Flo likes her. It is quite obvious. Now, of all the moments, is the worst possible second to bring it up though. Especially since Beverly can't bring herself to fully commit to liking her back, and all it would entail. She is not ready for an anchor to her ship.

"You aren't helping," Alvaro nudges Beverly. He addresses Mickey. "You've just got to ask her straight up to choose."

Mickey doesn't want to ask her. Not just because he knows she will choose Hubert, either, but because he worries. He feels like the two of them are strolling on the road. Clara insists on crossing, but Mickey can see a car coming. She is stepping out in front of the car, and it is too late. Hubert is behind the wheel, and he is laughing his deranged laugh. He doesn't mean to hurt, but he can't help it.

Mickey doesn't like watching disaster, but disaster seems to follow him.

~~~

Flo coughed through the entire night. Her skin is translucent, and they can't tell if her illness is from water filling her lungs, from freezing for so many hours, or it is the Grip (it is likely a combination of all three).

"Adwin," she clings to his arms. Her voice is muffled by the blanket she has draped over her mouth. She tries to prevent the cough from catching on to him, but she cannot make any guarantees.

He holds her back, and he lies down next to her and lets her face rest in the crook of his arm. Her arms are covered in goosebumps, and so he tightens the covers around her and tries his best to warm her with his body heat.

"Flo," he answers, softly breathing in. There is air in his lungs that doesn't belong to him.

She pulls him in closer. "There is someone in the room."

He looks around, checking for anyone else. "No, there's not."

"Please," she begs. She can feel their presence. Their hand a claw on her shoulder, digging in deeper.

He just grips her tighter, his face turning as he bites down on his lip. "There is someone here, Flo. It's me."

(Adwin is mostly correct).

She nods, and puts her head against the pillow. It feels so warm. She wants to lull herself off into sleep.

Then, something occurs to him.

There is a word quite like Grip in German. Grippe. Hubert said it in French.

It simply means, the flu.

If he is correct, than Ivy wasn't to die. And if he is correct, than neither is Flo. But the flu doesn't cause delusions or grandeur. But the flu doesn't usually kill half a population. However, these people don't have access to modern medicine, like vaccines. He is no biologist, but he knows that the people here do not wash as frequently as they should. Perhaps, that is what kills the whole valley.

Perhaps, even if they stop the rot, everyone is doomed.

Flo is oblivious to Adwin's thoughts, just as he is oblivious to her worries.

~~~

Maverick hears the forest calling his name as he sits on the porch. He feels a shiver go up his spine, and the pull stops. Abruptly. Mid-call. Cut off and strangled around the throat.

Something prompts him to stand. Something makes him turn his back and look around. There is nothing there. It doesn't surprise him though, because why would there be something there.

It is odd.

He wonders where Hubert went. He needs to talk to him, now. Surely, he is back at his house.

So, he walks forward towards town, without turning his back. After all, it is rather worth it.

As he does, he watches as the farmer in the closest house gets out to begin to till the property. Maverick approaches him, and tips his head down.

"Salut!" Maverick calls. "How do you do?"

The man runs back inside.

That's odd, Maverick decides. The farmer has never been so quiet before. No matter.

He continues on his journey.

~~~~~

I love this. It's all so sweet. The ending is so fun too, because its the style that I most enjoy (confusing, messy, and a little bit delusional). I don't know, I just love writing from unique perspectives.

Anyway, I will see you all soon!