Archer #2
“Not even guns!” Minka fights with her chair, growing frustrated with its refusal to fold properly. “They’re unarmed! We could’ve killed them yesterday and gone home already.”
“You’re mad right now, but you’d miss me,” Soph taunts. “We’re going through a rough patch, but all relationships do. We’ll fix this soon and move forward, stronger than ever.”
“Shut up! Shut the hell up!” She tosses her chair to the ground, huffing and dragging air into her lungs.
And because it’s so fucking hot, she tugs her shirt away from her sweaty skin, flapping the fabric to get a little breeze.
“Pack up the damn camp and let us go home. I’m done with this bullshit. ”
I drop the sucker into my pocket and turn in her direction. “Minka?—”
“I’m so fucking done! I’m fed up with all of this. I’m fed up with liars and cowards and drama and?—”
“Archer,” Aubree speaks softly. Gently. And yet, her voice hits my ears with all the finesse of a sledgehammer. “Go.”
“Yep.” My heart thunders and my head pounds.
Sure, it’s hot. And yeah, Soph is a dick.
But the tears in Minka’s eyes are completely other .
They’re more than anger. They’re more than frustration.
They remind me of a woman sitting on the floor of a shower in the winter, shivering and broken.
Devastated and tortured. “Hey?” I jog the dozen steps that separate us and stop between her and her view of Sophia, then, grabbing her shoulders, I bring her around, only to catch her explosive, choked exhale slamming against my face.
Stunned, I take her hand and wrench her away.
Away from the circle of chairs. Away from the audience she loathes so much.
I walk her all the way around the other side of the bus, and when that’s not good enough, I keep going to the other side of a massive tree trunk, three times wider than either of us. Combined.
“Shh.” I press her back to the smooth trunk. “Hey. You’re crying?”
“I want to go home.” She bats my hands away. Fussing. Panicking. And though I try to get under and meet her gaze, she refuses to look into my eyes.
She can’t.
“Archer, I want to go home.”
“I know.” I take her hands with mine, squeezing them between my palms and slowing the violent shake she long ago lost control of. “I know, Minnnka. We’re leaving soon.”
“I can’t stop being angry.” She chokes on her breath and twists to avoid my eyes. I chase her brown stare, folding and following. But each time I get close, she looks the other way. “It’s so dumb,” she groans. “I don’t even care that she’s an ass. I know she’s an ass.”
“I know.”
“And Aubree isn’t even mad. So my mad is stupid and unnecessarily dramatic. But every time I think it’s gone, she talks and I’m right back to pissed off.”
“You’re overstimulated.” I crush her against the tree and step closer, crowding her with me.
Just me . Even though it makes the heat hotter, and the sensory overload worse, I shield her from the rest of the world and force her to see me .
“You were brought here under false pretenses. Hey?” I swipe a single, errant tear from her cheek and cup her face.
“She lied. And fuck, we know she does that. We already know who she is, Mayet. But you had a plan for this week, and a plan for this case. And you especially have a plan for protecting Aubree. Then Sophia screwed that over. It’s so fucking hot, and your clothes are sticky and there are a lot of people.
A lot. So many personalities. So much noise. ”
“I feel so stupid.” She hiccups, her chest bouncing and her lungs spasming. “I’m crying because I got my feelings hurt.”
“You’re not crying. You’re in a complete sensory overload, and your body is trying to protect you.
You surround yourself with sterile environments.
With autopsy rooms where, most often, your only companion is a dead body.
Aubree visits, too, but even she learned to shut the hell up and let you work. ”
“Everyone is having fun,” she whimpers. “Everyone is getting along. Even Felix and Kane. Even Cato and Jay. Everyone is normal and knows how to let dumb shit go, but every time I remember how I felt when I figured Soph out, I get angry all over again. It makes it nearly impossible to breathe.”
“You know what overstimulation means, Minka.” I rub her hands, warming them despite the oppressive heat. “You know these terms. You might not think they apply to you, but scientifically, you know what it means.”
“I’m an adult, Archer! I’m a grown woman who knows how to control her emotions. This is ridiculous.”
“This is something that’s been coming for a long time.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and lean closer. Heavier. I become a weighted blanket, just for her. Worsening the heat, but—hopefully—calming her racing pulse. “It’s okay to be mad at Soph. She’s infuriating, simply by existing.”
She chokes out a shaky laugh, a torrent of fresh tears spilling over her cheeks.
“And it is so fucking hot out here. She brought us to Satan’s Asshole. In June . For the rest of my existence, I swear to become the man Timothy Malone wanted me to be. I’ll torture her, one bamboo stick at a time, till she learns to bring us somewhere better next time.”
“Oh, God.” She sobs and giggles. Cries and snickers. “You’re trying to joke me out of this.”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do.” I kiss her cheek, the salty flavor of her devastation transferring to my lips. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
“I’m not actually mad at her. Not more than I am any other time.”
“No, you’re not.” I kiss the other side.
Keep it even. Keep it balanced so her mind can move past it.
“You’re mad at her a regular, measured amount.
But you’re also dysregulated, out of routine, away from your home, and you don’t wanna admit it,” I grab her jaw and silently celebrate when her eyes finally lock on to mine, “but you’re away from the cat, too. ”
“No, I?—”
“You love to hate her. She’s who you go to when you’re starting to spiral.”
“I come to you.”
I love you too, Mayet. So, so fucking much.
“When I’m not there,” I croon. “Or when we’re on the couch and you’re feeling a certain way and sitting against me isn’t enough.”
She sucks air into her lungs, greedily gulping and searching for more.
“You think we don’t notice, but you bring the cat to your lap and pretend she’s annoying.”
She moans. “You can shut up now.”
“You’re doing great.” I squeeze her under my weight, making it hard for her to expand her lungs. Still, I remain exactly where I am. “You’re coming down again. Can you feel that?”
She gulps, dropping her head in lieu of speaking.
“The chair was annoying you. The heat’s annoying you. We’re sweating, and you didn’t pack ‘ going to the lake ’ clothes. You didn’t blow-dry your hair after swimming, which means it’s not as smooth as you’re used to. And fuck knows, you didn’t sleep in a comfortable bed last night.”
“I don’t cry.” She sniffles. “I never cry.”
Except that time in the shower, when she was freezing and scared. When she was sick and had spent the better part of a day digging up a skeleton in the rain.
“It’s not crying.” I bury my nose at the back of her ear. “Do you consider a volcanic eruption as the mountain crying? Or is it letting out a little pressure?”
“Pressure.” She drags her hands from mine, but then she circles my torso and lays her cheek on my heart. “It’s a buildup of pressure.”
“Exactly. Those are not tears, Minnnka. They’re lava. No one ever calls a volcano weak for bursting.”
She burrows deeper against my chest and sniffles. “This is a good analogy. I like it.”
“Thought you might.” I kiss her neck and draw a breath of my own.
I’m pretty fucking sure I forgot to in all the time we’ve been on this side of the tree.
“This isn’t about Soph, babe. It’s not about Aubree.
Or betrayal. Or camping at hell’s doorstep.
It’s about being overloaded with so much shit all at the same time that you just can’t hold on to it.
For the first time in a really long time, you need help to carry the load. ”
“I lost it over a chair.” Exhaling, she uses my shirt and wipes her face. “God. They probably think I’m crazy. They think I’m a giant wuss.”
“Lava burns. It destroys. It’s not the product of a wuss.
And…” Inspired, I remember the sucker in my pocket, so I pull it free and tear the plastic wrapper off.
“I read somewhere that when we get stuck in our heads like this and can’t find our way out,” I tap her bottom lip and grin, settling the sucker on her tongue as she opens her mouth, “we need to shock our system into focusing on something else.”
She scowls, two deep lines forming between her brows. Whipping her hand up, she tugs the sucker out again and looks at what I know is not just a regular sucker. But a ball of sugar dipped in something else. “It’s sour.”
“They say we should drink icy cold water. Or eat something spicy. Or…” I nudge the candy back to her lips. “Eat something sour. It tricks our brains into focusing on something new.”
“It’s working.” Pouting, she licks the cherry red ball until the coloring transfers to her tongue. “I guess.”
“You can breathe again.” I pocket the plastic wrap and kiss the corner of her lips, so I get to taste her and the candy at the same time. “Can you stretch your lungs? Get all that oxygen again?”
“You’re getting awfully confident with this stuff.
” Finally, she falls backwards, hitting the tree with a thump.
She tilts her head to the sky and closes her eyes.
And because she can, she draws a long, deep breath that expands her chest and brings a little color back to her cheeks.
“Where’d you learn about the candy thing? ”
In a book that I sneak-read. A book that focuses on neurodivergence and how to help someone exactly like you.
But I don’t say so out loud. “Must’ve caught it in a movie or something.” I drag every last strand of hair off her cheek and tuck it behind her ear. “Do you feel better?”
She sucks on the lollipop, pinching the stick between two fingers much the same way I remember Felix sucking on a cigarette.
It would be comical if it wasn’t so fucking scary.
“Mayet?”
“Yeah. I feel better.” She inhales, lifting her chest and swiping her cheek with her free hand. “Embarrassed. But better.”
“I don’t think anyone out here is brave enough to tease you for this. You have no reason to be embarrassed.”
“None at all.” Soph steps around the tree, startling us both and snorting when Minka jumps. Then she shoves me out of the way and crushes Minka in a hug. “We’re family here.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Minka kicks and squirms, trying, but failing, to push Soph away. “Get off me!”
“Shhh.” She squeezes her tight. “Just let it happen. Just relax.”
“Soph!”
“It’s okay. I forgive you. Now let me violate your personal space without having to listen to you whine about it.”