In the Palm of my Hand (g/t)

Chapter 11: Confusion, Unease and Fletcher

"Wyatt, can you please shut up... I'm trying to think." Fletcher sat against the thick wood, head in hands, as he desperately tried to conjure up a solution in his mind.

"Okay dude, I'm just giving out suggestions, Fletch." Wyatt snapped. "Better than sitting in silence, doing jackshit."

"You think I'm not doing anything?!" Fletcher's head flicked up angrily at Wyatt. "This isn't any fucking easier for me either, than it is for you." He shot up and stormed to his brother. "You should be happy that I dragged you in here, otherwise, YOU'D be dead."

Wyatt exasperatedly sighed and spun away. "Then what the hell do we even do from here...?"

Fletcher and Wyatt were located inside the base of a big tree trunk. Since they lived so close to the wall which separated the two kinds, the trees had grown a little larger than they would usually be on the human side, some being almost as high as giants themselves. One afternoon, years ago, the group discovered a small opening at the base of one of the trees, revealing a cosy, little space that they claimed to be theirs. Adding lights, makeshift furniture and some entertainment, Neeve, Wyatt, Fletcher and Mavis created a homey nook where only they would hang out together on occasion. Additionally, it proved to also be enough of a safe refuge from a terrorising rampage of giants demolishing their entire town.

"That's... what I'm trying to think about, Wyatt." Fletcher replied in a cold, mocking tone.

"We have no food. Any more of your thinking and I'll fucking starve."

Fletcher defeatedly sighed. "Okay then. So what do you suggest we do, hm?"

"Firstly, I think we should get out of here," Wyatt began, "Go to the town and search for either survivors or any vehicles that haven't been destroyed."

"All the vehicles are gone, Wyatt." Fletcher coldly interjected, immediately shutting down his idea.

"How do you know that? Did you check?? No. We don't know for sure. That's literally why we should go check, dumbass."

Fletcher couldn't help but snort at Wyatt's comment. "You must be insane if you think anything survived that shit storm." He was starting to lose his composure.

"It's worth a look, Fletcher. The fuck else are we going to do? Sit here and wait for some angel to save us? At least I'm trying to be proactive and resourceful about this situation. At least I'm trying to actually get somewhere. Staying in this damn tree is going to accomplish nothing. Mum, Dad, Neeve and Mavis are still out there. What will they think if we just-"

"THEY'RE FUCKING DEAD, WYATT." Fletcher cried out, holding his scrunched up face in his hands. "If they didn't die initially, then they're fucking dead now." His eyes began to water as he hunched over away from the gaze of his brother.

Wyatt wasn't used to seeing his generally stoic and calm brother being so upset and behaving so erratically. Despite Fletcher's fits of anger and desperation, Wyatt still felt bad for him. He could understand why his brother was overflowing with such emotion. Giants were the one thing that Fletcher detested with everyone fibre of his being. He wasn't just afraid of them but disagreed with their existence as a whole. Wyatt didn't feel as strongly as his brother, and realised that Fletcher's opinions must have come from his parents who regularly expressed their disgust for giants, generalising them as all being violent, ruthless and terrible beings. Nevertheless, he felt obliged to comfort him, at least for this terrifying moment where they were both unsure of how they would survive, or even if they would.

Fletcher slumped down by the wooden wall and Wyatt followed suit.

"If we go out, we'll easily be spotted.." Fletcher murmured through his sniffles. "And if we stay... we're also fucked..." he spoke as he stared out blankly with red eyes. "We can't even call anyone to help us...we're stuck..."