Chapter Text
The crew arrives nearly on time to the cabin. Everyone applauds Wylan as he parks the car. Wylan, currently a wisp of his normal sunny self, unbuckles himself and drifts towards the cabin with nothing but the clothes on his back and his sharp looking rain jacket. The speed of the rivets of water rushing down his waterproof jacket is most impressive. Suffice to say, the forever-designated-driver-of-the-crew Wylan is exhausted. Instead of one fifth of the driving, he did all of it and then some because of the weather-related traffic slow downs. Beautiful machinery, just let a deep sleep take him now! He begins to jostle the handle of the cabin, a thinly veiled effort that may progress into breaking and entering into the other means of shelter in the vicinity.
The Crows’ humble minivan is but a mere pebble in the vast green forest they are surrounded by. There are evergreens, tulip trees, and an overabundance of shrubs and wildflowers. The greenery surrounding the cabin has tall, untamed grass and a variety of leafy plants that would make a picturesque quilt pattern. A few feet away (because Wylan said he couldn’t be bothered to not not walk straight up), is the cabin itself with a cheery two flights of stairs to the front door.
It would have been perfect if not for the monsoon and ghastly humidity. If someone were to slap a sheet of raindrops away, they would be able to see some of the lake. In fact, according to the renter’s app, the six crows will even have direct lake access and access to free boats. (Yes, free boats. Inej has withheld that information from the rest of the crew to not instantly cause chaos and mayhem right off the bat. She’s hoping that they can all settle in tonight, lazily wake up tomorrow, and she’ll drop the news tomorrow afternoon.)
Inej, proper stoichiometry bless her, laid out special instructions that Wylan was to not be disturbed until dinner or should he wake up before then but not a second earlier. At the moment, Wylan is the MVP in all their hearts for delivering them not only safely but also sanely to their destination. It was what everyone needed after each preceding, unhinged driving session.
“Alright everyone,” Inej says, reaching over to close Wylan’s driver door. (Inej withholds any resentment for his laziness because they lived the five hour trip, gods damn it!) Inej turns to face the rest of the crew in the back two rows. “Let’s settle in. One group should go to the store for food and fishing supplies, and another group should unpack and organize and locate things in the cabin.”
Matthias, happy to have a fully functional, undamaged brain, volunteers to organize the cabin. He has no interest in continuing to gamble his life on these people’s poor driving skills. Nina joins because she ohoho does she have words to share with him. She grabs her purse and umbrella before floating up to the cabin door. Matthias shakes his head and grabs what he can in one trip before following his wonderful girlfriend up two flights of stairs in the pouring rain. He sees that this is the hand of cards he has been dealt. All is well. He would hate to see Nina upset because she got drenched in the rain or her shoes muddy in the path. Matthias places the bags down just inside of the front door of the cabin.
There lies a wet path, presumably made by Wylan, that leads into the cabin. And the cabin, oh, it is very much a cabin: wood planks as walls, an abundance of nature decor and cheesy adventure quotes as if you did not have the very forest and lake outside, and floral pattern furniture. It was homey but surprisingly cold. Matthias looks for a blanket that he can promptly wrap around Nina’s shoulders. He, then, decides that he will bring up all the luggage before figuring out the fireplace. Perhaps his little red bird would enjoy some warm smores tonight. He smiles and prepares to get drenched in the rain again. Nina will love the smores. Matthias clambers down the steps with a hop in his step.
The other three, Jesper, Kaz, and Inej, permit Kaz to drive. Although that would almost guarantee an all-too-soon death, it was a question of time, really. They would get there the fastest and he was less worrisome in his driving narration than Jesper was. When Jesper drove, everyone was stressed and panicked and unsure of what to do. When Kaze drove, you had no choice but to willingly place your life in his hands. There was also literally no option to abandon the vehicle while hurtling down the roads built by mortal souls at a tenth of the speed of light. And so, the three arrived very quickly at the general store they passed up on the way to the cabin. It was fast even for Kaz’s standards.
As Kaz was whipping around the bendy roads of the forest. He reminisced. When was the last time the three of them were alone and on a mission? He stares at the raindrops on the outside of the car racing past—of course something he has done since he was yay high.
The troublemaking trio—Jesper, Kaz, and Inej—met in elementary school. On the first day, Kaz established himself as the smartest street smart kid, having swindled three other children’s crunch and sip snacks in various games of paper football, chopsticks, and four square all before afternoon quiet time. He also gained a posse, a following of snot running, boorishly loud, and hysterically giggling children who loved seeing his ruthless acquisitions of their classmates’ beloved snacks from home. Kaz, not eager to surround himself with such loud individuals, gave them no mind and tried to lose them while navigating the classroom for black crayons.
Within the same hour, in a different classroom, Jesper had managed to get his shoes tied together and trip down some stairs. He was mere shaky breaths and watery eyes from bursting into tears, and it would have been quite the first day of school spectacle. Fortunately, Inej (who was apparently the new kid in town (according to the other kids) but it’s not like he has ever seen any other kid in this room before—his parents enjoyed the quiet solitude of home and farm they’ve built and work on) tackled Carla (the shoe tying culprit) and knocked over the nearby block tower with her stray foot. The blocks flew and hit other unsuspecting children in the face which, of course, resulted in more unwieldy crying outbursts. Then—since that was not enough chaos—Inej proceeded to tickle Carla until the teacher managed to pull her off. Jesper was amazed how such a tiny body managed to evade the teacher’s arms while mercilessly continuing her tickle attack on Carla. Carla was tickled so much, she started crying and even peed herself. Inej was just happy that Carla didn’t vomit on her new shirt. (Sure, the shirt had a few patches in it already, but it was new to her because it never had this blue patch on it before. Inej’s mother could have been blessed with a better child.) Although it was an insurmountable chaos for the first day of school, the teacher did take note that Carla was never a classroom issue again. The same could very much not be said for Inej who quickly became a frequent offender.
Inej, on the other hand, received the first ever detention in the history of that grade. Jesper, out of childish admiration and awe, stuck with Inej for the rest of the day, offering her his snacks and most vibrant of crayons. Inej happily took them but did not really understand what was happening. Inej just did what she did (tackling the trickster Carla) because that is what her older sister did for her (punch, kick, push, and even tattle on anyone who dared to upset Inej), and Inej wanted to do that for everyone. (Inej fondly remembers the first time her sister gave the neighbor a black eye because he tried to take Inej’s bike and Inej had gotten scrapes on her knees from falling off her bike. Inej’s sister was eating an apple, so gobsmacked that a piece of apple fell out of her mouth, and she ran out the door. The boy was still on their street, so Inej’s older sister pulled her arm back and threw her half-eaten apple at the boy . It hit him in the back of the head and he toppled over with the bike. He was never a problem again.)
Soon, Inej and Jesper were inseparable. They shared their families’ cultural snacks and meals and even made it a promise to swap crayon boxes every other day. Jesper’s box had all the vibrant colors but green and blue, whereas Inej’s box had a smattering of greens and blues and drab colors. It made for an interesting collage of hand drawn pictures to take home.
Eventually, the lunch ladies confused them as siblings because why wouldn’t the two brown children who sit next to each other every day not be related? [Author’s note: this is sarcasm. I was one of a handful of Asian kids in a majority white elementary school, and the lunch ladies always thought my friend (who was an Asian boy) was my brother. He. was. not!]
Jesper became a victim of Kaz’s swindling a little into the third month of school. Inej was horrified to hear that he lost his mother’s home baked bread to some child named Kaz. Kaz, what kind of ridiculous name is that, Inej immediately thought. Three letters with the last letter in the alphabet? She couldn’t even think of a word besides zebra and buzz that had a z. This was undoubtedly a sign for trouble. (Inej’s mother and sister would often call things “an undoubtable sign for trouble: the cloudy sky before a walk to the park, Inej’s sister grabbing the last cookie from the jar as Inej was walking into the kitchen with the same idea, a scene from their favorite drama before a commercial break, a full bladder when they just left the house.)
Inej, with a reluctant Jesper in tow, went up to Kaz during recess to demand the bread back. Kaz, a terrible, terrible child, said only if she jumped off the swings. Inej, an aspiring gymnast and most recent prodigy at the local karate doju, not only jumped but flipped off the swings. She landed like an Olympic gymnast, feet together and facing forward, and raised her arms like she won the gold. Her eyes and smile beamed, and Kaz was in awe, mouth agape -- she was so cool! Then, Inej got over herself, leveled Kaz with a withering stare as she stomped on over, and said, “A deal’s a deal. Hand it over, Zak.” Justice was written all over her small body and her even littler hand that reached out, palm up.
Thankfully, Jesper darted out of nowhere and snatched the bread from Kaz’s bag. He blew his tongue at Kaz—one of the most devastating things a child could do to another aside from giving the cheese touch.
“Wha-!” Kaz squawked. His tiny mind grappled from still being in awe of Inej and this revolutionary act of defiance. Usually, the children he swindles from cower in fear when he comes back for their snacks.
“I hope you trip up the hill,” Inej said before interlocking arms and skipping away. They had been practicing to move together in stride. It was remarkably hard for elementary school children to do—their bodies, just so unwieldy.
“That’s not my-- HEY! KAZ!” Kaz yelled after them, but he was too far and was left gawking over by the swingset. He kicked the mulch. His tiny hands balled up into fists and he promised that he was going to swindle that girl if it was the last thing he did. (Spoiler, he still hasn’t.)
As the three college aged crows exit the minivan and prepare for a dash to the general store door, Jesper asks, “Hey Inej, remember when you first met Kaz?” A solemn nod as Inej pulls the cords on her hood until a very small fraction of her face is visible. “Why’d you call him Zak?”
“Zak sounded like a much more palatable, reasonable name than Kaz! What kind of name ends with z?” Inej retorts and takes off into a very quick yet silent sprint towards the store awning.
Jesper breaks into a giggle, losing his focus and slipping out of the minivan onto the gravel of the parking lot. He lands on his back in a wet splotch. His withering, laughing body looks like an inchworm on epinephrine.
Kaz rolls his eyes and steps over Jesper (but not without a small kick), making his way to join Inej under the very full and overflowing store awning. “I’ll have you know that I am still refining and adding to my revenge plot,” Kaz says as he crosses his arms and tilts his head so his nose is high. Under the store awning, he gazes at Inej down his pointy nose, smug splayed out on his face. He silently challenges her to a staring contest.
Inej looks back at Kaz with warm mirth in her eyes. She nods, “Bring it on, pale boy.”
Jesper snorts uncontrollably as he tumbles through the door. “Pa-ale boy! PALEBOY! HA.” Jesper chuckles and then to himself murmurs, “I’m sure there’s plenty of thoughts in your mind about Inej, Pale Boy.” He hoists himself up and squelches to the door. Ugh, it is deeply unfortunate that these were the only pairs of shoes he brought. He sighs and waddles in through the door.
He watches as Inej and Kaz walk side-by-side into the store, softly talking. He wonders what they are talking about as they left their third to drown in the parking lot. He should really corner reconvene with Matthias to discuss some plans for the weekend. Wylan and Nina probably have a gazillion plans hashed out (albeit, very few good ones, Jesper is sure). The only half baked plan they came up with was the fireworks acquisition, much less the actual execution of the firework plan. Unfortunately, as the fireworks are in Matthias’ room, Jesper has been unable to B&E. (Or rather, Matthias made his room Fort Knox.)
Inej, in very polite fashion, repeatedly wipes her rain boots off on the mat by the door and heads off to the food section without a squeak. Kaz does two curt wipes and walks into the dimly lit aisles, also without a squeak. Jesper courteously wiggles his boots on the rugs three times before promptly and unintentionally hydroplaning his way towards the soup can stand. Fortunately for the soup can stand, Jesper does not topple it over, especially with the store owner and their child staring in horror as Jesper slips and slides towards their five hour pet project. Unfortunately for Jesper, he unsuccessfully windmills his arms in an attempt to recover his balance, knocking over a nearby rotating candy stand.
Kaz witnesses the slippery blunder and starts boisterously laughing, bent over, hands on knees. Jesper rolls his eyes because it is the laugh Kaz laughs when Kaz is feeling particularly sociopathic. The store owner’s child, on the other hand, bursts into tears with the fattest droplets of water dripping down their small, pudgy face. Jesper winces. He has a tendency to accidentally destroy children’s projects all too often.
Jesper slides around on the floor on his knees as he profusely apologizes and bundles as many snacks as he can before struggling to stand -- he slips onto his back all over again, snacks flying.
The child wails soften as they begin to giggle at the sight of a soggy, rather pathetic Jesper. Cue the most helpful fellow, Kaz laughs his sociopathic laugh again. Kaz even begins to wheeze. Lovely.
Inej, the angel she is, hovers over to yank Jesper up from the puddle he’s slowly producing. The owner’s child moves closer to peek from behind a shelf to witness the spectacle. She stopped crying because she needs to secure the safety of the muffins her father baked that morning. In fact, her father told her that any muffins that aren’t sold can be ones she takes home at the end of the day. She’s hoping real bad that the soggy man doesn’t take/ruin all the muffins. Her dad made cranberry orange muffins today -- her absolute favorite.
The child, Mariposa, timidly inches towards the braided hair girl and her clumsy friend, handing them each a small hand towel with cartoon runner ducks on them with rain boots and rain coats.
Inej gives a big smile to the child and bends at the knees to look her in the eyes. “Oh, thank you for this.”
“Of course! How else would you clean up the floor?” Mariposa stuffs a muffin into her mouth before dashing back to the cash register where her dad resumed counting money.
Kaz’s mouth falls open and he starts cackling with glee. “You do have to clean up that mess, Jesper!” Kaz comes over to snicker over Jesper as Jesper himself drips more onto the floor he’s trying to clean.
Jesper shakes his head and makes a face. He has a thought, a thought that he will almost immediately regret upon executing. Jesper mentally shrugs before wringing the sopping wet duck cloth water onto Kaz’s shoes. For good measure, Jesper slaps Kaz’s cane with the dirty cloth, the little ducks wrapping around the cane. Inej lets out a shocked giggle that turns into a choked gasp when Kaz glares at her with a look that could level a city. Kaz, ever the Bastard of the Barrel, brushes off the invisible dust off his pants, pulls his shoulders back, and sets his hands neatly on top of the crow’s head on the top of his cane.
“Jesper, my most dearest, cherished friend of all. Sleep with one eye open,” Kaz says with a saccharine smile. Kaz, then, grabs a basket and saunters off.
Jesper shakes his head and lets out a pained whimper, “I’m cooked.”
Inej grins at Jesper. “Want to see something cool?” She whispers conspiratorially. Jesper nods, duh. Inej begins to swing her arm back and forth, muffin pack in hand, once, twice, and she tosses the muffins over the aisle annnd the blueberry muffins lands in Kaz’s basket -- but, not without a noise of surprise from Kaz. Jesper crows and fist bumps Inej.
“You’ve always been my favorite, Wraith,” Jesper says.
Inej bows in response, eyes bright. “And you, mine, forever the one to rescue.”
Jesper shakes his head in awe from his position on the floor before getting up to gather proper food for the Crow’s first homecooked meal together. Jesper grabs a thing of flour and some other things Inej beautifully scrawled onto a ripped edge of a tissue. Oh, how the Wraith never has paper eludes Jesper. Inej claims that it is because she’s never needed paper -- she remembers.
Jesper supposes that it would be poor form to write all the blackmail reconnaissance onto paper, but he questions the thought process that went into writing a list on something used for your nose. What if someone had used the tissue and then she ripped it from it? Jesper shuddered.
Nah, that is something that Nina would do, not Inej. Inej probably was flipping around on the tops of buildings, suddenly remembering that she had to transcribe the list and caught a scrap of tissue fluttering through the wind. Yeah, that is probably what happened. (In reality, Inej found the scrap in the glove compartment. Inej, unlike Jesper, did not think that much of it.) Jesper grabs some snacks off the shelves before bustling up to Kaz at the cash register, already done with his part. He hopes this alleged team bonding exercise of cooking together works out. Jesper does not want to have to scavenge an antidote of random forest herbs to counter whatever Kaz decides to poison him with.
...
Jesper, with flour all over his face, struggles to knead the dough on his vintage flower-edged plate. The plate makes awful scraping noises on the wooden counter. Matthias is certain that the pretty, well-aged vintage plate would not survive Jesper.
With his shoulders taut and eyebrows bunched, Jesper says through gritted teeth, “Whose.” Knead and a scrape. “Idea.” Scrape and a knead. “Was.” Knead and the platter clatters dangerously to the edge. “THIS?” He huffs and throws up his arms in exclamation, as if that would provide an immediate, concise answer.
Matthias hits him on the back, leaving a hand-shaped flour imprint on Jesper’s cozy cabin knitted sweater. “Stop making so much noise. Knead quietly.” Matthias demonstrates by pushing his hands into the bread and then pulling back the dough ball. He grabs it and holds it triumphantly. “See?” Matthias then pinches the edge and lets the weight of the dough pull the dough thin. He rotates the dough and repeats, slowly creating a circular, thin, and smooth dough.
Jesper scoffs, causing some flour to froth off the tip of his nose.
Matthias smirks. “It’s probably because you don’t have finesse. You’re very much like,” he pauses and looks skyward towards the rustic wood paneling of the kitchen, cabinets, and window panes. The night sky is a deep navy blue specked with stars. It’s rather stunning. Matthias thinks of something that would disrupt that serenity, “bull in a China shop.” Matthias nods, enjoying his selection of words. Then, he, very carefully, picks up the dough ball to begin to stretch it into a pizza dough.
Jesper narrows his eyes and eyes the admittedly very nice pizza dough that Matthias has made. Jesper lashes out and pokes a hole in the dough.
Matthias glares as the tear becomes bigger. “You will regret this and rue the day you were born,” Matthias promises as he attempts to smoosh the dough back together at the tear. The effort is futile, and the dough becomes too stiff.
“But we’re on the same team!” Jesper yelps and backs away from his dough ball and moves to stand behind Inej instead. She’ll provide a moment or two of protection. He has always wondered who would win in a fight (Matthias or Inej), or rather, Jesper knows that Inej will win but wants to know just how she would win. It would be an interesting duel, potentially a big money maker. Jesper stows the thought away for he needs to survive Matthias right now. He grips Inej’s shoulders as she kneads her dough.
“Same team for what?” Inej inquires as she wrestles her dough into a lumpy trapezoid. She sits upon the cabin kitchen island criss-cross-apple-sauce. No one pays her seating arrangement any mind. (Truthfully, Matthias cares a significant amount. Her bare feet should NOT be so close to shared cooking ingredients: cheese, pepperoni, mushroom, peppers, pizza sauce, etc. Also, feet are unsightly. Yes, he will die on this hill.) She squints at her dough ball. “Matthias, how did you get your dough all smooth?”
Matthias frowns at his holey dough. “By staying away from Jesper.” Matthias throws a pepperoni at Jesper, and it sticks to his forehead. Matthias cackles. “Your head is so big!” Matthias says in astonishment. Matthias gets ready to lob a few more in Jesper’s general direction.
Jesper scoffs, having taken great offense. He launches his dough ball at Matthias. It was not a loss for anyone. It looked terrible and rather questionable in terms of food safety.
Nina rolls his eyes. “Men, right?” Like Jesper once was, Nina is still kneading her dough. She is replicating the motions she saw on the British Baking Show. She wants to make Paul Hollywood proud. If only the bread would succumb to her sheer will, then this would have been finished cooking a while ago. Nina huffs a piece of hair away.
Inej shrugs. “ Your man holds the secret.” Inej clears her throat and tries again, “Matthias, how did you make your dough?”
Matthias considers throwing cheese into Jesper’s hair. “Watch this.” Matthias kneads his dough quickly and thoroughly, demonstrating everything yet explaining nothing. Matthias then takes Inej’s dough and repeats what he was doing before. “You want to be gentle.” He lets the uneven side of the trapezoid round out into a circle.
“Oooo,” Inej and Nina said.
“Show off,” Jesper huffs and crosses his arms. He scrunches his nose. “Has Wylan been up?”
Nina shakes her head. She would have discussed which Kanej plan to set up for if he had even so rustled. Nina has been maneuvering the things from the minivan for the past hour or two, but she did peak into Wylan’s room to make sure he was okay. His body didn’t move an inch from the first time she checked -- don’t worry, he was still breathing. In fact, it was concerning how still he was. Nevertheless, there was air coming out his nose! Whew! The Crows remain even and balanced.
Jesper pouts. “Wylan would make me a pizza.” He contemplates poking another hole into Matthias’ pizza out of sheer pettiness and shakes his head. No, that’s an old trick, and there’s nothing Jesper hates more than unoriginality.
Matthias rolls his eyes. “I would have made everyone pizza if you didn’t use so much of your dough for that monstrosity,” gesturing at the very lumpy and actively shrinking dough lump, “Where did Kaz’s portion go? If it has left the room, I am not adding it to my master pile right now.” Matthias declares, probably afraid of the laxative Kaz put into the dough, he looks over his shoulder to make sure the Bastard of the Barrel wasn’t looming over his shoulder with a syringe. (Matthias has had a long day, and his sleep deprived imagination would surprise each and every one of you.)
Nina gave up on her bread dream and has been handing pieces to Matthias to knead into his dough. She supposes that they are making a group pizza. Maybe since Jesper’s dough went to waste, then Jesper’s portion will get cut. Ha, wouldn’t that be karma for sabotaging her Kanej plans?
Inej is kicking her legs back and forth, now sitting on the counter with her legs dangling. “Where is Kaz?”
Something large bumps into a door frame before groaning. “He’s collecting sticks for the fire pit for smores later,” Wylan appears from the darkened hallway. “Are you guys making dough? I bought some frozen pizza from the store. It’s all in the freezer.”
Rambunctious cheers and applause before a burst of light erupts through the window. It seems Kaz has resorted to more modern techniques of starting fires. (Kaz used cooking spray, paper towel, and a lighter.)