They stop at mid-afternoon the next day, because Birdy is crying. Her feet hurt, she’s hungry, she’s overwhelmed. Things are bad she sobs, and the women alternately draw closer or settle in a loose circle close by.
Runner and Siri and Lucinda circle up next to Birdy, who sits on the ground, legs splayed, hands on her belly.
Lucinda passes over her hat, settles it on Birdy’s head. Hands over her canteen, too. Offers a plastic baggie of pinyon nuts and fruit chunks and Sugar Bombs.
“Eat this,” she murmurs, stays squatted next to Birdy’s knee.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out through a handful of trail mix.
“It happens,” Lucinda replies.
“Yeah, but I’m slowing everyone down,” Birdy whispers.
“You’re pregnant. It happens.”
“Dredge doesn’t have to stop.” There are tears running down her cheeks, still. Jesus.
“Dredge is thirty years old, tribal, and in better shape than you are.”
“I ain’t thirty,” Dredge yells from her spot next to Twist. “I’m twenty-eight, thank you very much.”
Lucinda rolls her eyes.
“Dredge is more than a decade older than you, and in better shape. You’ll catch up soon enough, but for now you can take it easy.”
“I don’t want to be the weak link,” Birdy replies, schools her face into a scowl. She means it, at least, even as she’s hiccuping and still clearly overwhelmed. She’ll get herself sorted soon.
“Ma’am, if you don’t mind, can I talk to Birdy alone?” Lucinda turns to look up at Runner, who shifts from foot to foot, her hands behind her back. “Just--without you, ma’am, the Doc can stay since she’s a doctor. Just wanna talk about babies for a second here, ma’am.”
“Would you like Runner to sit here with you for a bit?” Lucinda asks Birdy, pats Birdy’s knee.
“Yes, please,” Birdy agrees, nods carefully. Takes a sip from Lucinda’s canteen.
“Alright. I’ll be over with the others, if you need me.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Lucinda stands, turns to go join the other circle, where Dredge and Twist are watching Birdy in concern, and Photo is watching with wide eyes, her camera at the ready. Runner sits down next to Birdy, close enough their shoulders bump if they both breathe deeply. Siri squats on Birdy’s other side, next to her knee, holds her hand out so Birdy takes it.
“When I had mine,” Runner starts, and her voice fades as Lucinda steps further away. “I had a lot of trouble when I had to…”
“Photo, put away the camera. Give her some privacy.” Lucinda points at the camera, flicks her wrist, mimes throwing it away.
“Yes, ma’am.” Photo puts away her camera, fiddles with the hem of her dress, casts nervous glances up at Lucinda every few seconds.
“Good look, without the hat, Boss,” Drummer drawls, takes a drink out of her canteen. “You need to clean up the sides of your head.”
Lucinda reaches up to scuff her hand over the badly-shaved sides of her head.
“I didn’t have a mirror, so unless you’re offering, keep your mouth shut about it.”
“Shit, pass me a razor, I’ll trim it back down for you.”
Lucinda narrows her eyes, watches Drummer for a moment. Loose, open posture, legs at right angles and her pack used as a backrest. Comfortable, stretched out on the desert floor, her straw hat peeling and her jeans frayed through the knees and hems.
She digs her straight razor out of her pocket. Tosses it over to Drummer.
“Hinge is sticky, but it’s sharp enough to work.”
“You comin’ over here, or am I goin’ over there?” Drummer sits up, creaks the straight razor open. She studies the blade and the handle, grunts her approval.
Lucinda considers for a moment before she stands again, steps across the middle of the circle to sit in front of Drummer.
“A’ight, don’t fidget, don’t wanna scrape up your head, Boss.”
Lucinda nods once before Drummer’s hand presses against her scalp, followed by the cold presence of the straight razor.
She watches Runner and Siri and Birdy while Drummer works, watches Runner sling her arm over Birdy’s shoulder, tip the hat back and laugh, watches Siri take Birdy’s pulse and listen to her chest and belly both with the one-eared stethoscope she has in her doctor’s bag. Watches as Birdy watches Siri, watches as they all smile at each other, and Runner helps Birdy back to her feet.
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timeasmymeasure
Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (11/?)
Date: 2016-03-04 03:05 pm (UTC)They stop at mid-afternoon the next day, because Birdy is crying. Her feet hurt, she’s hungry, she’s overwhelmed. Things are bad she sobs, and the women alternately draw closer or settle in a loose circle close by.
Runner and Siri and Lucinda circle up next to Birdy, who sits on the ground, legs splayed, hands on her belly.
Lucinda passes over her hat, settles it on Birdy’s head. Hands over her canteen, too. Offers a plastic baggie of pinyon nuts and fruit chunks and Sugar Bombs.
“Eat this,” she murmurs, stays squatted next to Birdy’s knee.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out through a handful of trail mix.
“It happens,” Lucinda replies.
“Yeah, but I’m slowing everyone down,” Birdy whispers.
“You’re pregnant. It happens.”
“Dredge doesn’t have to stop.” There are tears running down her cheeks, still. Jesus.
“Dredge is thirty years old, tribal, and in better shape than you are.”
“I ain’t thirty,” Dredge yells from her spot next to Twist. “I’m twenty-eight, thank you very much.”
Lucinda rolls her eyes.
“Dredge is more than a decade older than you, and in better shape. You’ll catch up soon enough, but for now you can take it easy.”
“I don’t want to be the weak link,” Birdy replies, schools her face into a scowl. She means it, at least, even as she’s hiccuping and still clearly overwhelmed. She’ll get herself sorted soon.
“Ma’am, if you don’t mind, can I talk to Birdy alone?” Lucinda turns to look up at Runner, who shifts from foot to foot, her hands behind her back. “Just--without you, ma’am, the Doc can stay since she’s a doctor. Just wanna talk about babies for a second here, ma’am.”
“Would you like Runner to sit here with you for a bit?” Lucinda asks Birdy, pats Birdy’s knee.
“Yes, please,” Birdy agrees, nods carefully. Takes a sip from Lucinda’s canteen.
“Alright. I’ll be over with the others, if you need me.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Lucinda stands, turns to go join the other circle, where Dredge and Twist are watching Birdy in concern, and Photo is watching with wide eyes, her camera at the ready. Runner sits down next to Birdy, close enough their shoulders bump if they both breathe deeply. Siri squats on Birdy’s other side, next to her knee, holds her hand out so Birdy takes it.
“When I had mine,” Runner starts, and her voice fades as Lucinda steps further away. “I had a lot of trouble when I had to…”
“Photo, put away the camera. Give her some privacy.” Lucinda points at the camera, flicks her wrist, mimes throwing it away.
“Yes, ma’am.” Photo puts away her camera, fiddles with the hem of her dress, casts nervous glances up at Lucinda every few seconds.
“Good look, without the hat, Boss,” Drummer drawls, takes a drink out of her canteen. “You need to clean up the sides of your head.”
Lucinda reaches up to scuff her hand over the badly-shaved sides of her head.
“I didn’t have a mirror, so unless you’re offering, keep your mouth shut about it.”
“Shit, pass me a razor, I’ll trim it back down for you.”
Lucinda narrows her eyes, watches Drummer for a moment. Loose, open posture, legs at right angles and her pack used as a backrest. Comfortable, stretched out on the desert floor, her straw hat peeling and her jeans frayed through the knees and hems.
She digs her straight razor out of her pocket. Tosses it over to Drummer.
“Hinge is sticky, but it’s sharp enough to work.”
“You comin’ over here, or am I goin’ over there?” Drummer sits up, creaks the straight razor open. She studies the blade and the handle, grunts her approval.
Lucinda considers for a moment before she stands again, steps across the middle of the circle to sit in front of Drummer.
“A’ight, don’t fidget, don’t wanna scrape up your head, Boss.”
Lucinda nods once before Drummer’s hand presses against her scalp, followed by the cold presence of the straight razor.
She watches Runner and Siri and Birdy while Drummer works, watches Runner sling her arm over Birdy’s shoulder, tip the hat back and laugh, watches Siri take Birdy’s pulse and listen to her chest and belly both with the one-eared stethoscope she has in her doctor’s bag. Watches as Birdy watches Siri, watches as they all smile at each other, and Runner helps Birdy back to her feet.