𝗧𝗢 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘'𝗦 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗗

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ON HER way out from the City Hall, carrying a box full of clothes she had chosen from the men's section, she bumped into Aaron. The man seemed to be coming from the Police Station, all smiles and quirky dimples.

"Hey, Ellie!" There was a light pep in his step as he approached. "Let me help you."

She jerked the box away. "I think I can handle it." She was probably better off with him carrying it, but Ellie Williams was, if anything, stubborn. Aaron didn't insist.

"I just came from seeing Blake, by the way," he told her. The mention made her frown. She didn't want to hear anything of the sort after their encounter. Aaron, oblivious, continued. "I asked about you and she told me you'd just been there. How'd it go? Did you impress her?"

"It was okay. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Jeez. Did you do that bad?"

"No," her frown deepened. "Shit, just... I don't fucking know, it was weird. She's weird."

Something akin to realization draped Aaron's face like a blanket. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"She can be... unsettling..." He looked to her with a somewhat intense gaze. "What did she do?"

There was no way in hell she was telling him. "Nothing—I don't know, I might be overreacting. Just drop it." It wasn't like Blake did anything crazy, really—except making her feel the highest level of embarrassment she'd felt in a long time. Perhaps she was more affected by the situation than she should've been. She just... didn't really feel good about herself a this moment of her life. Mentally or physically—and in the physical aspect, Blake unknowingly pressed some sensitive buttons.

"Sure..." Aaron was quiet for a moment, looking pensive. The sun was high and hot on the blues. He finally spoke again, gesturing at the box: "You're taking these home, I assume?"

"Yeah."

"Let me accompany you?" He offered. "I'd like to see your place."

"Why?"

"Can't I?"

She supposed that wasn't really a problem. It was just... difficult to deal with people. Be sociable.

   "Whatever," she shrugged.

   "Great!" He cheered; the pep in his step returned.

It took a little more time to reach her house; the Police Station was kind of far from it. Aaron held open the door for her as she entered with the box. She headed straight to the bedroom and placed it on the bed, while he stayed behind. She heard him whistle.

   "Nice place," he said from the kitchen, light steps wandering.

   "Thanks, I mean—you gave it to me."

   "We choose at random, honestly," he leaned against her bedroom door as she put away the clothes. "You got lucky; although all the homes here are pretty."

   "This is nice. Nicer than I expected."

   "Have your previous homes been like this?"

   "Kind of? I, er... had a farm," she paused for a second, looking at nothing in particular. "It was... pretty."

   Aaron hummed. "So you did have a home. Or various."

   She resumed her task, blinking the memories away. "Yeah."

   "I... won't ask what happened, yet. But I wish someday you'll feel comfortable enough to confide in me."

   She turned her head to him, grey t-shirt in her hands. His eyes housed no trace of deceit. There was a bit of a stunned silence in the room, from her part. She didn't really know what to answer so she just turned back and kept doing her thing, a funny feeling coiling around her chest.

   "Anyway... I did have a reason for coming here."

   She tensed up. "What?"

   "I..." A silent beat. "Wanted to invite you to a party," he clasped his hands pleadingly. She exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding, closing her eyes briefly. She thought he was going to say something else.

   "I'm not really interested."

   "Oh, come on! You're new here! This is the best opportunity for you to get to know people."

   "That's just... not my sort of thing." Her younger self would have chuckled and called her a pussy. She wasn't the same anymore. After everything that had happened, she had retreated into a shell that got harder to crack by the day.

   "Ellie," Aaron stepped closer. "I promise it'll be great. It isn't even a party, just a small reunion. I want you to come, I really do."

   "Aaron..."

   "Please!" He had the closest thing a human could possibly have to puppy eyes. Those big, intensely blue things. "Pretty please."

She grunted, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. Why did extroverts always make it their mission to turn everybody else into extroverts as well? She began contemplating the idea nonetheless. The alternative was to loiter about town, perhaps grab onto some films to fight the boredom, have dinner at the dining hall and try her hand at sleep. It wasn't a very promising vision—but just the thought of mingling with so many people...

   She remembered something that her head, for some reason, registered as a minuscule obstacle, and found herself asking: "Will she be there?"

   "Who? Blake?"

Ellie nodded. Aaron threw his head back and guffawed, as if he had a good laugh stuck in his throat for a while. She didn't see what was funny.

   "No! Hell no!" He brought a hand to his belly, almost out of breath. "She doesn't come to these things anymore. Jesus, my puppy eyes don't even work on her."

   "Then," she felt somewhat relieved. "I guess it wouldn't kill me."

   "That's right!" He pumped his fist into the air, all theatrics. "I'll meet you here at eight."

Ellie spent the last remains of daylight wandering about town, collecting things that sparked her interest. She borrowed a big stack of movies—which she had to give back by next week—, went to the library for a couple of books and was, at last, allowed to gather vegetables and other items to start eating at home. The goal was distraction, entertainment. She felt herself go insane each second she spent in that silent, empty house, as nice as it was. It didn't carry the ghosts; she did. Blood-thirsty ones, vicious and fixated on torturing her.

She exercised a little, too. As much as she could before losing her breath and all function. Her physical prowess wasn't terrible, she just needed to gain some weight to excel again. By the time she hopped in the shower it was six in the evening, and a saffron-colored dash stroked the horizon. She dawdled for a while, thoughts racing by as the cold stream hit her skin like silver bullets. How deep the mind went.

Aaron was at her door the second the clock struck eight. She finished fastening her button-up and placed some strands of hair behind her ear, before leaving the house and letting Aaron lead the way to the "reunion". As they were rounding a corner, she found herself asking:

"You won't fuck off on your own and leave me alone for the entire night, right?" She shot him a sideways look, reminded of Dina and her early antics. Dragging her to a party and then going off to make out with Jesse.

"Me?" He brought a hand to his chest, entirely serious and perhaps even a bit offended at the question. "I could never."

She could've chucked. "Alright."

"Anyway, I don't think you'll need me," he pressed on. "You'll probably be tonight's star."

That was precisely the issue. His words almost made her turn around and head back home. This... unwarranted and unwanted attention held her hostage by thick, sharp strings.

"Don't even think of letting them flood me."

"I don't think I can stop it," he smiled, to her dismay.

Deadwood was even more breathtaking at night. Truly a mystical, sort of otherworldly quality to it. The lampposts shed a very warm, cozy orange light, and lined up as they were along the sidewalks basked the whole town in clementine glow. Up high the sky sported its darkest tint; a deep sea mottled with stars that blinked away their illustrious glint. At this time of hour, as early as eight, most people had retired to their homes. The youngest still lingered, huddled up in little groups or meandering the streets, giggly and red-faced. You could see, through the ample windows and open shutters, the shadowy outlines of folk operating inside their homes, fixed in their stationary ways: placing dinner on the table or still arranging it in the kitchen; children bounced by their fathers' knees as televisions flickered before their faces.

The walk was short, the conversation pleasant and light. Aaron's presence was much tranquil and easy; you never had to worry about who would do the talking and awkward silences never plagued the dialogue. His tongue just ran and ran with the unabashed flow of a waterfall.

Aaron had lied. She wasn't surprised in the slightest. Turns out the "reunion" wasn't it at all—it was, indeed, an actual, full-blown party, in all grandeur. The loud music sent vibrations across the ground, the bass booming loudly in her ears.

   "Man, what the fuck is this?" She yelled out to Aaron, trying to be heard under the music. He simply began walking, in a briskly pace, toward the bright house.

   "Have some fun, Ellie!" He made a "come here," gesture, waiting for her who had stopped walking.

   "Fuck..." she closed her eyes for a second. She was panicking a little. This didn't use to happen before, back at Jackson. But she was used to being around people there. After the farm... she was isolated.

"Come on, Ellie," Aaron said, voice a little softer, almost unheard due to the loud hip-hop music. "It wouldn't hurt, would it?"

She looked up at him, eyes blank. "There better be lots of booze."

   He smiled one of his bright smiles. "Oh, I assure you, there is."

The place was as packed as a can of sardines. They made their way through the mass by continually bumping and shouldering people. Everyone seemed too entranced—or too drunk—in dancing and drinking to notice their entrance. Aaron led her toward the small bar, first thing. She eyed the row of bottles, all glimmering under the moonlight.

   "I recommend this!" Aaron yelled, mouthing exaggeratedly just in case she had to resort to reading his lips. He was holding an unlabeled bottle with a honey-tinted liquid inside.

   "What the hell is that?" She yelled back.

   "Simple whiskey! Homemade!"

She gave him a thumbs up and he quickly worked on filling two glasses up halfway, and handed one over to Ellie, raising his.

   "Cheers?"

She gave him a nod and they clinked their glasses together—with a sound that was more felt than heard—and washed down some of the drink. It slid down Ellie's throat as if infernal fire, spreading a scorching thing across her chest. "Motherfucker..."

   "Good, right?!" Aaron smiled, glinting pearls all out.

   "More like fucking insane!"

He laughed openly. "You're just like my sister!"

   "How's your sister?"

   "A tough crowd!"

   She brought her glass to her lips once more as they leaned against the bar, watching people swaying side to side. "Is she here tonight?" She asked, closer to his ear. Her throat was beginning to bother.

   "I don't know! Maybe!" He replied, with a shrug.

Suddenly a circle formed in the center of the vast living room —the house was immense; she didn't know to whom it belonged—, as a young man did the party-typical thing of downing a large, boot-shaped glass of alcohol in one go, everyone else cheering him on. "Charlie, Charlie, Charlie," they chanted. It was a weird vision paired with a weird feeling. It felt like an entirely different place—there had been some sort of fantastical drape over this town, in her eyes, but as of now it had revealed that what it covered was merely another place, crammed with simple humans capable of acting wacky and quirky and stupid. She felt almost back at Jackson.

She took another sip. The so-called Charlie finished his endeavor and was showered with bustle and compliments. Aaron lifted his hand, waving to someone she did not immediately see, until they started approaching them. It was a slender girl of color, with a sweet, rabbit-ish appearance and a swift bounce in her walk. She pushed long, brown dreads over her shoulder and grinned, an overlapping canine glinting.

"Aaron, you brought new girl! I'm so happy!" She looked at Ellie while shifting from feet to feet in an excited manner. Ellie simply smirked a little, and shot her a nod.

"Her name's Ellie!" Aaron shouted.

"Oh, true, I forgot!"

So he had been talking about her. That wasn't shocking. News fly like birds. The girl stretched out a hand.

"I'm Amanda! So nice to meet you, cutie!"

Ellie lifted her eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the nickname, and shook her hand. It was soft.

"You too."

"I'm cute too?!"

"I meant— I meant nice to meet you too."

"Ignore her, Ellie!" Aaron waved his hand dismissively. "She likes to tease!" He turned around to refill his glass and took Ellie's from her hand to do the same, without her even asking. She took her refilled glass and thanked him—but he didn't hear.

The girl snickered, a mischievous glint to her eye. Ellie couldn't tell what color they were; under this darkness, with only the moon to yield a bit of light, everything looked black.

"Where's your boyfriend, by the way?!" Aaron covered his ear with a hand, making a face. "God, this music's starting to hurt!"

"Oh, it's him with the music, beside the speakers!" She pointed with her forefinger. "I'll tell him to bring it down a little!"

"Is this his house?" Ellie inquired, frowning. The music was loud.

"No, sweetie! Mine!" And thus she wiggled her way amongst the crowd to head toward her boyfriend. Ellie looked to Aaron with a somewhat surprised expression on her face. He seemed to understand, and grinned, leaning down so she could hear better.

"The Kerrigan family! They handle the mining! But I already told you this!"

"I forgot," she replied. "Too many names!"

A laugh burst out from his throat, and he nodded in agreement. The music had been turned down just a little, but decently enough to relieve them of a bit of the strain in their throats.

"Do all families have gigantic houses?"

Aaron seemed to think for a moment—or more so hesitate. "Yes!" He ended up replying.

So they were basically the rich people of the town. Interesting.

   "We're humble, though!" He felt the need to add, which made her think they probably weren't. She nodded anyway.

Suddenly Amanda came hurrying back with the speaker guy by the hand. He was a not-so-tall, asian youth, so pale he almost shone through the dark.

"Ellie, meet my boyfriend!" Amanda shook him as if he were a plastic doll; he didn't even react, looking a little out of it. "His name's Eddy!"

"Hi," Ellie greeted.

"Hey!" Eddy drawled, shooting her an inebriated smile. "Good to meet you! Having a good time?!"

"Er, sure."

"Nice!"

Amanda pushed him away in a manner so careless it almost made Ellie laugh. She grabbed her hand, tightly. "Come on! Time for everyone to meet you! You can't be hidden over there!"

Ellie blinked. "What?! Hey!" She looked to Aaron, who merely shrugged and smiled, following them.

"Don't resist!" Amanda pulled her forward. "Jesus, what a strong grip you got! Relax, woman!"

"Fuck..." Ellie resigned, sighing sharply. She let herself be dragged away into the crowd. Amanda yelled something she couldn't even decipher over the sounds of her own heartbeat drumming in her ears, and suddenly there was silence.

Aaron was standing a few feet away with everyone else; a circle had formed. Ellie cursed under her breath, not knowing where to look, so she simply crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at her converse.

"This is our newest girl!" Amanda yelled, an excited lilt to her voice. "Her name's Ellie, and I want you all to give her a nice cheer!"

She felt too old for this shit. Truthfully, she was only twenty, but she had started feeling so horribly aged after Joel's death. And looking like it, too. Stress ages you, they said.

They cheered, bellowing her name. She just sighed, again, shaking her head. There was some ruckus and voices began jumping above the crowd.

"Let's make her feel welcome!"

"The boot initiation!"

"Ellie, you're so hot!"

She didn't know who the fuck said that, but it did make her look up.

"Ellie," Amanda touched her shoulder. She turned her head to her. She had in her hands the big-ass boot-shaped glass. "This is so important. This is history. This is the glass my father drank during his wedding before fainting and waking up twelve hours later. This is a legend."

Ellie couldn't help but snicker this time. A big chuckle. She ran a hand through her hair and tucked some wild strands behind an ear.

"What the fuck is this?" She said, more in incredulity than actual confusion. A big glass shaped to look like a boot? She'd done things in Jackson that these guys would faint upon seeing.

"It's serious, Ellie! So serious!" She stumbled a bit over her words.

"You're hella drunk."

"And you have to be too! Right, guys?!" Amanda looked around, raising a thin arm. There was cheering and applauding.

   Ellie groaned. "Jesus fucking Christ..."

Then, a more familiar voice spoke up: "Don't tell me you can't do this one simple thing!"

She looked to the source and, sure enough, Aaron's wicked face was grinning at her.

"I know what you're doing," she replied. "But this is just stupid. It doesn't even look complicated."

"Do it, then!"

It was settled. She turned to Amanda. "Fill that fucking thing up." Lots of cheering, again. Didn't their throats hurt?

Amanda went and did the thing. She walked back to her side with the full glass. It did look a little... menacing, upon closer inspection. But not enough to warrant any serious hesitation. She held it—it weighed a good amount, too, thick glass as it was. Soon enough her name was bouncing off the walls, loud, in the ways that only privileged people know how. She thought of many things during the few seconds she stood there, staring at the drink. Memories of the past came to her, of lighter times, and Aaron's words resonated within her: "It wouldn't hurt, would it?"

She drank it all in one go. The cheering felt... good, for a moment.

Admittedly, Ellie had underestimated the potency of The Boot. It wasn't long after she downed it all that her head began feeling light as air—perhaps even more than that—. The stumble over her thoughts came next, and the having a hard time to collect her words and organize them in a way that was coherent followed suit. It was midnight. Her skin was flushed hot, blood pumping with fierce fuel. A long time had passed since she last got drunk; maybe this unfamiliarity was what made it kick in so intensely.

She regretted having allowed Aaron, at some point during the night, to leave her side. She was now fighting sleep as a curvy girl chattered her ear off. She couldn't see very clearly, but her mind registered a pair of elongated, sapphire eyes and the sultriest lips. What she was saying sounded like mandarin. Ellie was thinking of Dina. Of her eyes upon waking up, of her hand on her chest as she held her...

She looked one time over to where Aaron was standing in a far corner, and caught him passionately locking lips with an unfamiliar girl. She felt the girl (the one she was talking to)—what was her name? She wasn't sure she had heard. Emely?— touch her arm, softly, and it brought her misty eyes back to her face.

   "Yeah?" She rubbed her eyes, heavy-headed. Dina. Oh, Dina. The girl's touch felt almost like hers; gentle, small fingers sliding up and down.

   "I said you have pretty lips..." She murmured, leaning closer. So much so that Ellie could feel the warmth of her breath on her neck.

Ellie's eyes could barely register the other's appearance. Useless things they had turned into. Her mind was elsewhere, in shattered memories. A vision materialized before her, an image of longing, and for a mere second she saw Dina's eyes boring into hers. It was all the push she needed to lean down and kiss her fervently. Dina wrapped her arms around her neck, never waiting, always ambitious—and Ellie gripped her waist with desperate fingers, the fingers of someone who fears the vanishing of a dream. She licked the other's lips, and she was so responsive and willing, perhaps even as needy as she was, and parted her mouth, allowing Ellie's tongue to dart out and touch hers. Dina emitted a sweet sound at this, sickly sugary, and it sent cold shivers down her spine. Her eyes, shut tight as they were, gathered tears. She pressed Dina flush against her, hands moving to her cheeks and tenderly stroking them, as their warm mouths slid and danced and devoured each other. Ellie was momentarily deaf; not even the music could be heard inside this space where she delighted in what she'd loved and missed the most.

Suddenly Dina grabbed one of her hands and broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting them still. She leaned toward her ear and murmured:

"Let's continue this elsewhere."

Ellie nearly wrapped an arm around her waist and took her to the nearest room or her home—wherever she wished—, if it weren't for the feeling of something wet on her cheeks and the fading magic from the face that stared back at her. Those weren't Dina's eyes, nor her lips, nor her skin. This was a stranger, a real, unwelcome thing. She stepped back, almost stumbling. She brought a hand to her eyes and rubbed them fiercely again, and jerked away as the girl reached out to touch her.

"Don't," she managed to say, voice hoarse and burdened. "I'm sorry." She couldn't even deign looking at the girl's face as she shouldered her way amongst the crowd and started for the exit of the home. The last thing she saw before stepping out of the house was Aaron, in his headspace, making out with a man.

She staggered through the deserted streets like the dead stumbled amongst the living, sickened to her bone marrow.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." She slurred out. Her stomach was in a twist and the alcohol ate away at her head. The lights were too potent, too bright, they pierced her eyes painfully. She covered her face and collapsed against a wall, grunting.

Her mind wouldn't stop repeating what happened back there—the frenzied heatwave, the cold desperation, such brief ecstasy after being beguiled by the ghosts of her past. And the stranger's eyes that stared back, the way her touch had horrified her after the mist of love had vanished. She clenched her hands into fists. Her stumps ached, throbbed. A reminder of the truth and the present. The fantasy was nothing but that—yet she needed it now. At this moment.

"Dina..." She leaned her forehead against the rough wall, with half a mind to just whack it against it until everything slurried out—the blood, all the fury, the tears, the sorrow. "Please..." She begged, to no one or nothing near. To Dina. Perhaps to the gods if they existed.

This position was making her nauseous — all the feelings scrambled inside of her. Her heart was mad, running past, and a chill went through her. It was a cold night, breezy and silent. A lamppost flickered near her and from a half-open eye she saw its light stir and swivel and wave. The world was leaning to the side, falling upside down, and she couldn't stop crying. There weren't even sobs, just tears. Salty and self-willed.

She tried to stand up, and made it—but her stomach was chaos and she immediately lurched forward, into a trash can, to vomit. Her hands were gripping the edge forcefully, white as bone. It was the only thing keeping her from falling, for the retching made her weak in the knees. She let out a load of slurred curses, tears dropping into the bin. A shaky breath, then two, then another.

"I'm a fucking mess..." She murmured, opening her eyes. She stared directly at her throw up and that just made the bile and everything else swing back up and out again. She remembered how she would stroke Dina's back when she threw up while pregnant, and hold her hair. She breathed laboriously, chest feeling compressed in a way she could not describe. The streetlight kept flickering away.

"Do you need help?"

She froze—except for her chest, which kept moving up and down in extreme labour—, then she cursed, focusing her cloudy eyes on an arbitrary house up front. It was late—what was she doing out here?

"I don't... need any fucking help," she used all her might and force to push herself off the trash bin. She managed, stumbling a little, and wiped her mouth with the back of a hand, using the other to wipe at her tears.

"You seem very ill."

Ellie was still trying to catch her breath, hands on her knees. Her head lolled. "Just leave me alone, you fucking pervert..."

Blake did not insist. Not a sound, not a word, and most probably not a shift in her face. As if she never stumbled upon Ellie at all, she turned the opposite way and walked away, her steps slowly fading into nothingness.

Ellie arrived home half an hour later, finding each step a near-imposible obstacle. She didn't even have the mind to change her clothes—she collapsed on the bed, and slept soundly for the first time in a long season.

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DEADWOOD

Thanks for reading :)