Chapter Text
Maple. Juniper. Willow.
Those were the trees that lined the outskirts of the Witchwood. The trees that were native to their small town on the outskirts of the lake. The trees that echoed life beyond the nantucket bridge, closing them off from the rest of the world.
Becky knew seclusion all too well.
She was no stranger to loneliness, or feeling like she existed in another world as opposed to the one she was breathing in. The one her soul was planted in. The roots that entangled her bones, forcing her to stay stagnant. To grow in a place she spent her childhood trying to escape.
She never could truly leave Hatchetfield. And she often questioned if it was to her own disposition, or if she was forced to stay put.
She felt as if her soul was elsewhere sometimes.
She’d like to think it would flee when she was afraid. That only her body and brain would remain, and it would save itself from harm. That it would vanish in self defense, not compromising itself to the cold, harsh version of life that existed outside. Like her life was going on elsewhere, and her physical body was trapped here.
But now she was carrying another soul.
One she wasn’t sure she knew how to protect.
One she prayed would never flee.
She took a breath, putting a hand to her chest. Her head rested against the passenger seat window, the mustang steadily moving forward. Tom was silent, concentrated on the road ahead. She enjoyed his company, even if it was quiet.
As she glanced to her right, she took note of how long it had been since they left Emma and Pauls.
The forest was starting to fade with each mile as they headed towards the clearing. Towards the heavy, densely overcrowded and busy area that was town.
“Town’ meant something different in Hatchetfield.
Town was a ten to fifteen minute drive from where most people lived, and it was littered with all sorts of things. Grocery stores, small shops, fast food. Not many people chose to live in town, instead they opted for suburban areas on the outskirts, the trailer park, or if they were wealthy, Pinebrook.
Then there was downtown. Downtown contained places like the old starlight theater, Saint Damian's where Becky worked, Lakeside Mall, and CCRP. It was artsy and fun, always bustling with something exciting. Emma and Paul lived downtown.
Emma wasn’t the biggest fan of Becky in the beginning.
In anger she held onto Jane. And who could blame her?
Jane was gone. She had no roots, except Hatchetfield, and her brother-in-law had quickly moved on.
Seeing him move on hurt her. Thought somewhat irrationally, she was afraid. Afraid he’d let go of Jane, leaving her memory behind. Afraid she’d lose her relationship with Tim.
And Becky didn’t push her way in, or force Tom to give up his past life. She eased her way around it instead, and continued to try. She outstretched her hand, waiting for acceptance. She knew Emma would come around on own merit. It wasn’t instant, but it was slowly happening.
She noticed Tom’s hand was placed softly on her thigh, the other gripping the wheel. He was lost in thought too, his mind on the road. She cleared her throat, recalling the passing red and orange leaves. “Juniper, willow, and maple.”
Tom scrunched his nose. “Huh?” He asked.
“The trees. The one’s we’re passing.” She stated, softly shrugging her shoulders in doubt. “Juniper, willow, and maple… right?”
“Yeah.” Tom said, surprised. “’I’m impressed. Guess my knowledge has rubbed off on you.”
“Yeah well, don’t get too cocky. I still don’t wanna go hiking.”
“That’s fine with me. I don’t expect you to.”
Tom never expected Becky to push herself into her fear. Especially after what she had confessed. After what happened there, and the memories it held, he accepted that the threshold of the forest was enough.
Tom liked the forest. The peace, the animals, the stillness. He liked Hatchetfield. The community, the lake, the fall. He enjoyed the simple, little things that most turned their nose to.
Becky also liked the lake, the fall, the changing of the colors. She loved Tom, Tim, Emma, and Paul. She liked Hatchetfield.
But she hated the woods.
“I used to love the outdoors… when we were kids at least.”
Tom laughed, fond memories coming into view.
Becky was unstoppable back then. A force to be reckoned with.
She was unbeatable.
And to him and Tim, she still was.
“Oh I remember. You could climb faster than anyone. No one could catch you.”
She smiled softly. “But you caught me.”
“Only took me fifteen years.”
He wished he had never let her go.
There was a part of Tom that wondered what life would’ve been like had he stayed with Becky. If he kept her, and didn’t leave for the army. Or if he had begged her to wait for him like she said she would, instead of breaking things off.
He wished he had never let her go.
He wondered what life would’ve been like If Becky had never met Stanley. Would they have married as soon as he left the military? Would they have had Tim, or different children entirely? Would Jane still be alive, and with someone else?
He wished he had never let her go.
But all that mattered was that he was here now, and they would hold each other for the rest of time. That at some point, safety would be inevitable, and peace would surround them without effort.
She was going to find herself again, and he would be the one to guide her there.
He would never, ever, let her go.
“You’ll get back there you know.”
Becky raised her brow, confused. “Where?”
“To that part of you that loved the outdoors, and felt unstoppable. Feeling safe outside. Feeling safe in general. To you.”
Would she? Or did she not even know the person she was before? How can you become someone you’ve never met? Someone you’re not even sure exists. Someone who is still being untangled and discovered by love she once lost.
She pushed away her thoughts, carrying herself back into the conversation. “I hope so.”
Becky wondered if she’d ever feel safe, without having to constantly remind herself of it. She wondered if she’d ever be able to stop grounding herself. To stop having to reclaim peace. That ease would be inevitable, something she no longer would have to think about.
And Tom wanted that for her. He wanted it so badly. “I know so. Plus I wanna raise our daughter to appreciate this place. To love Hatchetfield for all it's worth.”
Evetrything always came back to that. To their daughter. To Tim… the family they were trying to build. The life they wanted to pursue.
“I’m sure she will.”
Becky then saw the outline of their home, and the car came to a quick stop. Before she knew it, Tom was already at her door, opening it for her. “It’s still early. I can make you breakfast.”
She sighed, reaching for his hands as he pulled her upright. She groaned in response, a hand coming to her lower back in discomfort. She pressed it in, trying to ease the increasing ache. “I think I’m gonna go back to sleep. Is that ok?”
“Hey, you’re the one creating life, not me.” He kissed her on the cheek, pushing open the front door. “I love you. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
Becky felt herself awaken quickly, her squirming body coming to a halt. She checked the clock beside the bed, noting the time. It was 10:30 am. She never slept in this late.
Repressing the nightmare she had and holding her chest tightly, she felt the remnants of wind dance around her.
It was as if the dream itself was breathing.
Standing right in front of her, animated in its movement. Sarcastically alive. Taunting her memory.
Patches of a brushed chill ran shivers down her spine .
She looked at her hands as they fell from her face, her eyes still burning with the cold fall air. These dreams always managed to hurt her in the aftermath. To weigh her down.
She exhaled.
She was safe. She was home. And she was with Tom. .
She pressed herself out of bed, feeling the weight of her body sink into her feet.
A few days out of work and it had already felt like too many. A few days since seeing Stanley and she wondered if she’d ever feel normal again.
Tom turned his head around as she came into the kitchen, a large smile emerging on his face. “Hey babe. Good morning.”
Becky eyed him momentarily, confused. His countenance was soft… easy. His expression light and cheery.
Was this what it was like to live safely? Blissfully unaware that the world was full of danger? Where the end of the world was an afterthought, not the forefront of every decision. Not thinking of how to precisely escape, daydreaming of a life outside of a wasteland.
She sighed, ridding herself of the heaviness from her mind.
She couldn’t go there.
She didn’t want to.
She placed her hand on his chest. “What’s all this?”
“First Saturday you haven’t worked in a while, and we’re alone for the weekend, figured you deserved a nice breakfast even if you shot me down earlier.”
“Well I didn’t shoot you down. I just said I wanted to go back to sleep.”
He stuck out his hands, sliding a full plate over to her. “You hungry?”
“Starving.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
Tom leaned over the countertop, his third mug of coffee half empty already.
He had been up since they returned home a few hours prior. Once he was awake, going back to sleep was impossible. So he cleaned, cooked, and waited for Becky to wake up. Emma would tease him for being lame. Tim would call him a ‘simp,’ and he’d just nod along as if he knew what that meant. But regardless of whatever they called him, he didn't really care.
Becky appreciated the gesture, her sleepy body trying to come into reality.
She wished every morning could be like this. That she could live without the constant fear of people she trusted turning on her.
The slight glimmer of morning sun bounced off the kitchen window, and she couldn’t help but gaze into it.
And suddenly, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something felt wrong… something felt unsafe.
The juniper tree.
Or rather, an echo of something behind it.
A figure flashed before her, making its way past the threshold only for a moment.
Becky quickly took in his dark hair. His sharp brown eyes.
Eyes that were like the pistil of a sunflower. Like the stripes on the back of a blood-thirsty honey bee .
She only knew one man with that demeanor. She only knew one man with that disposition.
And that one man was supposed to be dead.
And yet he was there, standing before her for the second time. Stanley was there, standing in her and Tom’s backyard.
The plate in her arms fell as she leapt backwards, running for cover. Her eyes fixated on the tall figure as he disappeared behind the juniper.
“Beck!” Becky!” Tom yelled. “What the hell? Are you ok?”
He chased her down the hall, watching as she pushed herself into the corner of their bedroom, shoving herself into a divot in the wall. Her eyes were flushed with fear, panic. He didn't understand what was happening, and tried to begin grounding her. “You’re safe. You’re home. You’re with me.”
But she didn’t listen.
She couldn’t listen.
All she could hear was the sound of her breath ringing in her ears. Her heart racing rapidly, the blood rushing to her cheeks.
All she could feel was her baby kicking harshly, distressed by her sudden panic.
All she could see was Tom’s lips moving, the absence of sound with each motion. His arm grazed hers, and she cowered even further into the corner.
She didn’t know how to speak.
She couldn’t speak.
Instead, she forced whatever she could to come out of her lips. She regurgitated whatever the panic would let her. She just prayed something would come out other than the sound of her incoherent sobs. “Stanley is out there!”
Tom’s words came to a sudden halt, his breath stopping short. His stomach lurched, the air escaping his lungs like he had been slammed into concrete. The hairs on his back stood up, rage pouring through his body.
“What? He asked through gritted teeth.
Becky didn’t know how far her words would travel. If they would make it out from her tightened vocal chords.
She would never be safe again.
She would never know a life without danger.
She would never be free.
“I saw him through the window! He’s out in the backyard!”
Without saying a word, Tom moved towards the safe in his closet. It was hidden under a rack of hanging clothes, tucked away from everything else. Kneeling down, he fidgeted with the code, swearing softly under his breath as his first attempt to get it open failed.
All he could see was red, his mind completely shifting.
He was no longer home.
No longer in this liminal space.
He was at war.
He was at war and had to protect his family.
There was no time to think. No time to second guess. After a moment, he finally cracked the safe open, swiftly pulling out his gun.
He hated even just the idea of holding a weapon now that he was a civilian again. He hated the idea of taking a life, after he had taken many in the army. The way it haunted you… lived with you for years afterwards.
And yet, he felt no sympathy for his intended target. Because If that son of a bitch really was here, and after his family, he wouldn’t be alive for long. And he would feel no remorse in ridding him from this world.
Tom made his way to the kitchen, extending his firearm. He had released the safety, ready to press the trigger. He peeked his head through the front door, trying to get a better view. But after a few moments, he crept back inside.
There was nothing there.
He slowly walked back into the bedroom, his gun now limp at his side. His eyes fell to the floor, tracing lines in the carpet. He stood before Becky, defeat and concern on his face.
“Did you get him?”
He didn’t respond, and instantly Becky knew something was wrong.
She ran through the hall, forcing herself to stare through the glass. She wasn’t crazy. He was there. He had to have been.
But there was nothing there.
There was no body.
There was no evidence.
Only the wind, and the echo of the trees.
She wasn’t safe. She would never be safe again.
“Becky.” Tom whispered, now standing behind her.
She looked like she was going to collapse. Like the world had sunken in on her. “I don’t… I don’t understand.” She turned to head to the tree standing tall in the back. The one he hid behind. The one that she swore he ran behind. The one she saw him flee to, like a coward lost in the woods.
“How long has that been there?”
Tom wrinkled his nose, unsure of what she was asking. “What?”
“The tree.” She spoke abruptly. “That juniper in the backyard.”
“Oh. Um… I don't know.”
She was haunted by the forest. Her mind was untrustworthy in a million different ways lately, a nd for the life of her she couldn’t recall that tree. And now, Stanley had been lurking behind it.
Hiding.
Waiting.
Seeking out his prey.
“I need to cut it down.”
“You need to… you need to what?”
“I need to cut it down Tom. What if he comes back?! He can’t hide behind it if it's gone!” She erupted into shaky sobs, her words falling flat by the deep, distressed air slipping out of her lungs.
Stanley is alive. Stanley found her. And she would never be safe again.
She could never be safe again.
Tom quickly caught her as she fell into his arms, leading her to the couch.
He didn’t know how long had passed until she had calmed down, but he waited until then to speak.
“Becky, I think you need help.”
She looked up at him, her terrified eyes losing their light. She felt like her mind was slipping away, and that no one would believe her. That the man she loved and trusted didn’t believe her.“You don’t believe me… do you?”
She would never be safe. Stanley was alive. And Tom didn’t believe her.
“When I came back from Iraq I used to see friends of mine that had died. People from my platoon, or even guys I…. guys I had killed.”
His words stung.
He hated to even speak it out loud.. To let its weight sit on him, forcing him into reverence… into the memory. But Becky had killed too. He knew that in some capacity she understood. That she was experiencing the same phenomenon. She had to be. Because Stanley was dead.
“But they weren’t real. It was my subconscious manifesting something in the physical. I think the same is happening to you. I won’t deny what you’re experiencing because it feels intense, and unsafe. But maybe it’s not… real.”
She shook her head. She had seen this before in Tom, back when they first started dating again. Flashbacks, nightmares. But nothing like this… nothing to this degree. And not with her.
She felt insane. Unsure.
“I don’t understand.”
He tilted his head, holding her tighter into his chest. “I know, I know. And it’s ok, you don’t have to. We just need to work through it. Together.”
She nodded, but her confirmation was in vain, but she felt like the trust she had inside was fading. She felt as though she couldn’t rely on herself anymore. That she could no longer be strong for Tom. For Tim. For her daughter.
She felt like the cracks were showing, and everyone could see inside of her. That everyone could see the truth.
That everyone could see that she was weak. She was small. And Stanley would always control her.
“Look at me.” Tom grabbed her face in his hand, urging her to focus on his eyes. He knew she was spiraling. He knew she was collapsing in on herself.
And he couldn’t let her sink.
He wouldn't let her sink.
He would tell her loved her, and he would always protect her until he no longer drew breath. “I will always keep you safe. You, her, and Tim. I will never, ever, let anyone harm you.”
She held him tightly, not wanting to let go. Wanting to believe every word he said, and for her mind to be freed.
He reciprocated, holding her and not letting go.
She prayed he would never let go. That she would be safe in his arms forever. That no harm would come to her. That everything he spoke would be true.
And yet, she felt herself succumb to every lie she had ever told herself. Every past truth and memory of violence she had ever known.
As she held the love of her life in fear, Becky Barnes knew three things for certain:
One, Tom would always protect her. Two, her mind was playing tricks on her. And three, she and her family were in danger.