Jay Posey - Morningside Fall

There seemed little of that now.

I can’t promise that, Wren had said. I’d try, Painter, he’d said. A far cry from hope. And though Painter didn’t understand what it meant that this Asher had been in control of the Weir somehow, he knew it was something dreadful. Could Asher jump from one Weir to another? Or was it that he could control many at once? Whatever the case, the thought that Snow might be out there as little more than a puppet for Asher’s malevolence…

Maybe he should’ve just buried her after all. He finally realized how desperate it had been, how foolish. It seemed all too likely that now the only outcome would be that he’d never really know what became of her. He made a decision then, in his heart.

Whatever might come, whatever the consequence, he would return to Morningside. Whether Painter had to live inside the wall or beyond it, he would find her. And then he would do whatever it took to help Snow find her way back.

It was midafternoon before Cass found the strength to come out of her room. Lil had brought her food a little after noon, and Mouse had stopped in to check on her. Gamble, too, had visited for a short time. Cass was relieved to know that she’d managed to cling to Gamble’s knife through the battle. Apparently Mouse had had to pry it out of her hand at some point.

Out in the hall, Cass heard Wren’s voice in one of the other rooms and followed its sound to a door that was cracked open.

“…because the bridge cuts off this loop here, see,” a weak voice was saying, “so it’s actually faster. Just not the safest way.”

Cass knocked lightly on the door.

“Yeah, you can come in,” the voice said. Cass nudged the door open and found Wren sitting in a chair next to Wick.

Wick was propped up on some pillows in bed. He hardly looked like himself, his face was so pale, and his eyes were darkly ringed. An IV bag hung on a makeshift apparatus, the line running to his right arm. “Hey, Lady. How you feeling?” Wick said, smiling broadly. He tried to sit up, but she motioned for him not to.

“I’m good, Wick. How are you?”

“Milking it,” he said. But his voice was thin and didn’t have the same smooth timbre it usually did. “I don’t remember the last time I got to stay in bed all day.”

“Hey, baby,” Cass said to Wren.

“Hi, Mom,” he answered. He glanced at her when he said it, but then went to looking at his hands in his lap. It made her feel like she’d interrupted something.

“What’s the prognosis?”

Wick shrugged about halfway and then grimaced. It took a second before he could respond. “Mouse says four or five days, but he worries like a grandma.” He waggled his arm with the IV in it. “Got me all juiced up out of fear of infection. But I figure I’m up and about tomorrow, maybe day after.”

“You just do what Mouse tells you to. He knows what he’s doing.”

“Likes to give that impression, anyway.”

Cass paused a moment, looking at him there. Grieved by his pain, grateful he was alive. “You had me really worried there, Wick. More than grandma worried.”

“Yeah. I’m really sorry about getting poked, Miss Cass. I’m better than that, I promise.”

Wick seemed genuinely upset with himself, and his apology was sincere. Cass shook her head. “Don’t apologize. I’m just sorry it happened.”

“It shouldn’t have.”

His expression went dark when he said it. Remembering. She could almost read his mind, or at least guess at his train of thought. If he hadn’t gotten hurt, no one would’ve had to carry him, and if no one had had to carry him, there would’ve been two more shooters, and if there’d been two more shooters, maybe Cass wouldn’t have gotten overwhelmed… Nothing she said was going to make him feel any better about how things had gone. She decided to change the subject.

“Wren’s not keeping you up, is he?”

“No, not at all. He’s good company. We were just getting the lay of the land, seeing where we are in relation to everything else. Sharp kid. You should keep him.”

“I plan on it,” Cass said, smiling at her son. Wren seemed down, or troubled. “You OK, sweetheart?”

“Fine,” Wick answered. “Thanks, honey.”

Cass gave a Wick a look, and he just smiled back.

“I’m fine,” Wren said. “Just tired.”

“I was going to see if I could find something to eat. You want to come?”

“No thanks.” He still wouldn’t look at her. Which usually meant he was either upset about something, or that he was wishing she’d leave. Cass motioned with her hands at Wick to see if he needed her to have Wren come with her, but Wick waved her off.

“OK,” she said. “Wick, want me to bring you anything?”

“No, ma’am,” he said. “Thank you though.”

“Alright then.” Cass hovered at the door for a moment. “A few more minutes, and then we’ll let Wick rest, OK, baby?”

“OK,” Wren said. There was a brief silence, but then Wren looked over and asked, “Can Lil teach me that thing now?”

It took a second before Cass remembered what he was talking about, and when she did, she didn’t like the thought of it. Seeing her son like that. And Lil had said it was difficult to learn. But there was no doubt they’d be facing the Weir again. Worse. Asher in the Weir.

“If she has time,” Cass said.

Wren’s eyes glinted in either excitement or surprise. Maybe he’d been expecting her to say no. He got to his feet.

“Thanks, Wick. I hope you feel better.” Wren offered his hand. Wick shook it with kind sobriety.

“Thanks for keeping me company, Governor.”

Wren came over and stood next to Cass.

“Open or closed?” she asked.

“You can close it, thanks,” Wick said. “Gonna rack out for a bit.”

Cass chuckled and shook her head. Wick just flashed his grin. She should’ve known better than to think he’d ever ask Wren to leave, no matter how tired Wick was. Cass pulled the door closed, and then she and Wren turned and went down the hall. It was disconcerting how unstable Cass felt on her feet. They walked together in silence.

They found Lil in one of the common rooms on the top floor, talking with Finn and another woman that Cass didn’t recognize. Everyone stood when they saw her.

“Miss Cass,” Finn said. “How’re you feeling?”

“Well enough, Finn. Thanks,” Cass said. “Are we interrupting?”

“No, not at all,” Lil said. “Please, join us.” She introduced Cass to the other woman there with them. “Cass, this is Mei. Mei, Cass.”

They shook hands. Mei was a couple of inches taller than Cass and willow thin. Her hands were surprisingly strong.

“Mei,” Cass said. “You came with Lil to rescue us.”

Mei nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“What brings you out and about?” Lil asked, as they all took seats.

“Wren had something he wanted to ask you,” Cass answered. Lil looked at him.

“I was wondering if you had time to teach me your trick,” he said. “The broadcasting.”

Lil looked back at Cass for confirmation, and Cass nodded.

“Sure, Wren,” Lil said. “We can try. Here, come sit next to me.” She stood up to grab another chair, but Finn got up and slid his closer to her, and then went and found another for himself. Lil scooted the chair right next to hers and then sat back down and patted it. Wren crawled up into the chair. It was oversized anyway, and seemed even moreso with his small frame in it. Lil angled her body towards him, and Wren mirrored her.

“Now,” she said, “I’ll try to teach you, but you should know that it can be very challenging. Not everyone can do it. So, you have to promise you won’t be upset with yourself if you don’t get it right away.”