Our Mother the Mountain

3. Records

Ethan's plan to drag Eva along to the castle was thwarted by the large number of people that had arrived. In the ballroom, chairs and tables were hastily dragged out to make an eating space for everyone. The autumn sun set quickly these days, and before he knew it, the sky was grey. He apologetically exited the lively room while the others entertained; Ethan half-dragged both of the children toward their bedroom. They were still excited about the party and had no desire to leave. Fully entering Dad mode, Ethan chided them down the hallway. Both girls were in a now-shared suite on the first floor that he'd effectively child-proofed.

After toothbrushing and pajamas, they continued to prolong the inevitable by asking for a story. Ethan obliged; the favorite part of his evening was now laying in the large bed intended for Eveline (but Rose more or less always ended up there too) and sharing one of the classic storybooks from Karl's family library. The children's books were mostly in German, but they were beautifully illustrated, and Ethan could fumble his way through the tales, more or less. Tonight's story was Hansel and Grethel.

A story about a witch who ate children lulled Rosemary to sleep without a hitch, but Evie looked perturbed after the book was closed. Ethan glanced at her with raised eyebrows. She exhaled, and then pulled the blanket up to her chin.

"Do you ever feel like just a piece of a person? Like the rest of you is lost and you're gonna get lost again and again. Like them, in the forest, without the breadcrumb trail."

"All the time," Ethan said casually, and then he frowned at how dark the conversation was. He turned toward the child and propped himself up on one elbow, his temple pressed against his palm. "What's on your mind?"

"I just hate...remembering what happened. I still feel like I am a fake at having a family. I wonder if you hate me. I feel like a freak."

He paused to consider this. "It takes a long time to feel like other people are family. I definitely don't hate you, Evie. I've been thinking about all of this for years now. You were not taken care of like you should have been, that's not your fault. We both went through a horrible time, so did the Bakers, and other people. It should have never happened, but that doesn't make it the fault of a child." He shrugged.

"Now we just have to work on rebuilding, because we were lucky enough to get the chance. I know it'll take lots of time, but I think those sad feelings will fade when you have more time spent in a safe place. Things like that, adjusting–even when it's a good adjustment, it takes a long time."

"Do you feel safe?"

Another pause. "Mostly. When I don't, that's okay too. I'm sure I'll feel safer after time goes by...and after we deal with Miranda." They shared a rather macabre smirk, with hers hidden under the blanket. "As far as feeling like a freak...well, we're all freaks here, I guess." He tried not to chuckle, but her unimpressed stare caused him to slip.

"I thought you brought me back just for my powers."

"Absolutely not," Ethan almost cut her off, shaking his head from his awkward position. "I appreciate that you helped us when you came back. That was kind of you. We really needed the help. But I meant what I told you before–I don't intend to use you like a weapon any more than I would use Rose as a weapon. Rose has helped before too, but I want you two to stay out of it as much as possible."

This seemed to soothe her, and she drew the blanket up even further, her eyes trailing around the room, lids finally flickering heavily. So much like Mia's. Ethan watched her silently. She had one more burning question, apparently. "So, it takes time to feel safe....If that's true, why are you so mad at Heisenberg for not talking about things with you?"