August 6th, 1895 - Bixby Residence

Alvin's nerves were frayed, nearly as bad as when Sloane had gone missing and that was saying something. Between Sloane and Harry heading back off to South Africa, his discussion with his sister when she'd come home about the news, and now Zinnia's husband's death, his worries were split in too many directions and he didn't quite know what to do with himself.

It was difficult to get a read on anyone, especially Sloane since she refused to stay at the house, but he and Harry had discussed the matter and his brother was determined to keep a closer eye on her when the left again. He just had to hope she would bounce back. It was a low blow to her already crumbling self-esteem, but she'd gotten through tougher things, and she would get through this too.

He had to hold out the same hope for Zinnia too. The whole thing was such a mess and Alvin, stuck on the outside of it all, could only watch and wait. There wasn't much he could do, he knew the Potts family was rallying around her and she would need that, but it left little room for him to also check in without it being noticed or commented upon. The house felt a little stifling these days, so he was sitting on the swing in the garden, enjoying the cool evening air and the silence of the later hour. The glow from the kitchen windows was the only light he had, but he was too busy sifting through his thoughts to pay attention to whether anyone had noticed his absence or not.

The sound of the creaky, old, wrought iron gate opening brought him out of his reverie and he looked up in surprise. As far as he knew, everyone was home, except Sloane and she had made it clear she wasn't coming back around until it was time to leave again. It took a minute for the shadows to give way to who it was and as soon as he realized it was Zinnia, he jumped off the swing. "Zin, are you alright?" The worry overwhelmed everything else as he crossed the garden to her in a few long strides.

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Zinnia Gallagher

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   Zinnia Gallagher

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Zinnia hesitated just inside the gate, her hands curling against the side of her dress as if the fabric was the only thing holding her together. She knew how messy she might look – hair hastily pulled back with no care for neatness, eyes shadowed from too many nights without sleep despite Thistle’s suggestion of sleeping potions. Even breathing felt like work these days.

The house she’d come from was… full. Thistle and Calla had come to stay just for now with the rest of her family coming in and out at random intervals just so she wouldn’t be alone, but the reminders to eat, to rest, to let herself feel was overwhelming. Zinnia appreciated them, she couldn’t do this without them, but it felt like being smothered under the weight of their concern. Every soft knock at her door, every tentative question, every cup of tea pressed into her hands was another reminder of what she’d lost.

Today she’d slipped out before anyone could stop her. Emery was safe with Thistle, who thought that Zinnia was asleep in bed. But she couldn’t sleep. Not right now. The nightmares came quickly and washed over her until it felt like the r itself had turned heavy, pressing her down into the mattress, trapping her in the dark. Somehow, she found herself at the Bixby residence, staring at Alvin, who, thankfully, was not looking at her like she might break.

“I’m fine.” She whispered, although it was becoming an automatic lie she gave to people to stop them from hovering around her. Zinnia let out a shaky laugh that didn’t belong anywhere near humor. “I thought maybe… maybe you’d let me hide here for a little while.” She stepped forward, locking the gate behind her.

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Bee made this beauty<3

Fine did not look like she had wandered here by accident. Fine was not the word one was supposed to use in the wake of their spouse's death. Fine wasn't asking to hide away from everything else. Alvin understood it though, the instinct to cover up the real emotions, the feelings that threatened to overflow with just the tiniest crack. He resisted passing her a look that said he did not believe her. Because he knew and the question had been more out of surprise than anything else.

"Of course, but Ma's still up, so we should probably stay outside." Fiona Bixby excelled at worrying about people. She would make tea and slip some brandy into it, magically find the good cookies in a tin, like they were ready-made for any particular situation. It was endearing and it was suffocating. It was why Alvin never really let on to how he was doing these days. He and Harry were always the ones who really strove not to be needy. Harry was really the only one succeeding.

Once she was inside the gate, he placed his hand gently at the small of her back and led her over to the garden bench. "House full?" He guessed. There was no way at least three Potts women weren't in her house at any given time. He had to assume as well, that since she was without Emery, that somebody was watching her. Taking a seat next to her, he angled his body in her direction, trying not to sit too closely, but struggling with any distance.

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Zinnia nodded, her eyes quickly flickering over to the house before her gaze landed on Alvin. “She means well.” But if one more person tried to press something into her hands or told her to get some rest, Zin might scream. Maybe it would be nice, cathartic even, to let out some of the emotions she felt, to stop holding everything in like it might keep her from breaking. But she didn’t want to do that here, not now, so instead she followed Alvin to the garden bench and eased herself down onto it beside him.

Zin’s mouth twitched although she couldn’t find the strength to smile. It was more of a faint, tired acknowledgment that he’d guessed right. “Bursting,” she murmured, but Alvin had already known there. She loved her family more than anything, she needed them more than ever, but sometimes it felt like she had no space to digest everything that had happened. What would happen now that Rhys was gone? Did they keep the house? Move? Could she raise Emery without returning to work? There were so many questions and not enough time to mull over the answers to any of them.

Her hands folded in her lap. “Calla’s taken Emery for a bit, and Thistle was hinting I should lie down…” Before she could think better of it, Zin tipped toward him. “I’m tired. But when I sleep I just replay it over and over.”

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Bee made this beauty<3

"It's suffocating, I understand." The Bixby family had undergone some real hardships over the last few years and he had no idea how his mother handled it all, he'd barely contained himself, but she was always right there with a soothing word or a comforting hand. He appreciate it, obviously he did, but it had also trained him to keep everything in check so that she didn't have to. He didn't need to be another concern for her. She had enough to worry about.

Alvin settled an arm on the back of the wooden bench behind Zinnia, but was careful not to touch her. It was something he'd built a long while ago for his mother to enjoy the garden with her tea in the afternoons and he used it more often than he'd ever thought. Mirroring Zinnia's movements without really realizing it, he agonized over what to do. Alvin didn't know what comfort he could provide here; he'd never been in this position and unlike Sloane, they knew Rhys wasn't coming back from the dead. "Have you thought about a dreamless sleep potion?" Again, Alvin knew firsthand what it was like to have a tragedy play out before you and then again and again, over and over every time you closed your eyes. He still sometimes saw Sloane's accident in his dreams and woke up in a cold sweat, even though she was safe and alive and trying to figure herself out.

"I heard they can help," he'd never tried one, but had been tempted. After Sloane's disappearance, he'd slowly tortured himself with the thought that he deserved the nightmares, if only to keep a fresh memory of her alive at the time. It had been stupid, he realized now, but grief didn't exactly play fair.

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If anyone understood how Zinnia was feeling, it was Alvin – between Sloane being presumed dead (and then being found) and Wally’s dragon injury, he’d been in her shoes recently. She had tried her best to support him where she could, and as much as she hated having the tables turned, Zin appreciated that Alvin knew exactly how she was feeling. Her shoulders rose faintly with her inhale, but then she slowly let out it as though she could ease some of the heaviness pressing on her chest.

She stared straight ahead at the neat line of hedges. “I have.” Zin said after a minute. “Well, Thistle has. I appreciate her so much, but taking it feels like I’m giving in. Like if I numb myself to get enough rest, I’ll wake up and find that I can’t remember parts of him.” She laughed quietly, realizing how silly it sounded. Alvin knew she had Rhys hadn’t been in love, that they wouldn’t have gotten married had it not been for her pregnancy, but still, they had been something. Friends, at the very least.

“I know how silly that sounds. Emery needs me to rest, not walk through the day like I’m a ghost, but..” She pursed her lips together as she tried to find the right words. “But what if I forget things about him and then I can’t tell Emery? She deserves to know who her father was.” At least in her dreams she could remember how brave Rhys was – how he died trying to shield them.

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Bee made this beauty<3

Alvin listened without interrupting. He didn't really know what to say. While he could understand the loss, he couldn't quite wrap his head around how it would eventually impact Emery. She was so little, so innocent, that she wouldn't even remember her father at all. It was along those lines of thinking that Alvin could begin to understand Zinnia's concerns. It was really all about Emery.

"It's not silly," he said after a moment of letting it all sink in. "It's not just you, even though she doesn't realize it yet." Gallagher's picture had been in the paper, so there was at least something she could show Emery down the line. "You need to rest though. It makes things worse." The lack of sleep had been miserable and probably what had propelled Alvin so far downward after Sloane's disappearance. He wasn't going to badger her though.

He was still at a loss for what to do. "I know you've got a small army of help, but Mum and I are here too, if you need us." What Fiona Bixby wouldn't give to spend an afternoon with a toddler. Rufus' children were getting older and Alvin had no idea if there would be more, but he was no closer to settling down than any of his younger siblings, so it would be a while.

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Zinnia turned his gaze toward Alvin but she gave him a tired, crooked smile before her fingers brushed at the corner of her eyes like she could erase the evidence of exhaustion. Maybe Alvin was right, she should try a dreamless potion – it might do her some good. She could ask Thistle to brew one or get her one; her sister had been beyond helpful in helping to care for her while things were hard. She wouldn’t forget too much about Rhys in one night, right?

“I know.” Zin said softly, because she did. Exhaustion was starting to creep into her bones, so she’d fall asleep soon either she wanted to or not. ”I just…” She exhaled, the words coming slowly. “It’s hard to imagine how I’m supposed to be enough for her. She won’t remember him, and that means I have to make sure she does. I have to tell the stories, say his name out loud even when it hurts.” Zinnia had to keep his memory alive – Rhys certainly didn’t have a lot of family to fall back on to help her do it.

When he mentioned his mother, Zin let out a small laugh. “If your mum wants to come help wrangle a toddler, I won’t stop her. Emery would love that, and I –” She glanced at him, “I think I’d love that too.” It would be a chance for everyone to breathe. Thistle and Calla could have a break from her.

Without thinking much of it, Zin reached out for his hand. “Thank you, Alvin.”

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