Discoveries | TMR | Three

2:3

"Margaret Jane, since when did you start smoking?"

Sitting on the edge of a small, stone barrier outside the garage on the furthest end of the Harbour, Maggie sits with her legs dangling from wall when she hears herself being addressed. Her heels kick gently against the brick, her eyes watching the sun gradually beginning to set along the horizon; taking in the vibrant hue of apricot, coral and orchid that descent upon the sky.

She does not know how long she has been here; hours, at least; slowing smoking her way through the pack of cigarettes Matt and her swiped from the store only a mere few days ago, not expecting to be caught.

The vague hint of a smirk invades her features when she hears the voice trickling towards her. "Since when did you turn into my mother?"

She hears Nick chuckle behind her, and listens to the way it melts calmly with a soft hum. She takes a long drag of her cigarette, not caring much for her actions being foiled, and she releases it in a puff of smoke that gingerly dissolves as it floats freely through the air in front of her face.

"Take it you're doin' the rounds tonight?" she asks, not looking back at him. "Makin' sure everyone's locked in for the night."

"I was," he informs her. "This is my last spot."

Maggie nods slowly, and sighs as she stretches her right arm over to the left to flick her ash in the ocean, not paying much attention to the way the delicate breeze weaves it back and forth as it falls. "Well, I'm sorry to say that you'll be waitin' there a while," she mutters. "I ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon."

"You came here for some peace and quiet then?"

"Somethin' like that."

"That's alright." She does not see it, but he shrugs. "I'd actually like to prolong hearing Alby's snoring for as long as I possibly can, anyway."

Maggie hums in amusement. She turns, craning her head to look up at him standing behind her, and with the cigarette tucked neatly between her index and middle finger, she uses her other two to pat the space on the wooden planks beside her. "Come on then, may as well make yourself comfy."

She hears the boards of the pier creaking as he approaches, and catches sight of his figure slumping down next to her. "Spoke to Matt earlier." There is no room for the silence that Maggie finds herself craving, however, and no room for her mind to be cleared when he brings up their fresh plan. "To go out more."

"Yea?" she asks, taking another draw and blowing it out before looking at him. "What'd ya think?"

"I think it's too much," he says quickly, as though having already planned the conversation in his head. "We already go out once a week, sometimes to more than one compound. That takes up, at least, two days at a time. On top of all the training, target practice and useless meetings, I don't see how he thinks we have the time to do it."

"He doesn't want us to stop. Simple as that," Maggie informs him. "All the shops, all the swimming in the ocean, all the time to ourselves, all the time we spent eating. All these extra little things, he wants us to stop, and he wants us to focus solely on gettin' everyone back."

"We've gotta keep doing those things though," Nick counters. "He couldn't possibly want us to give all that up. It's what keeps us sane, it's what keeps us feeling that little bit of freedom that we all need to feel."

"In his opinion, we can have freedom once Brenda and Trav are back," Maggie mumbles, before quickly correcting herself. "And the others, of course."

Nick takes in a deep breath, inadvertently inhaling the smoke that flurries through the air in front of his face. "What happened out there?" he questions. "At the compound."