in the beginning

[watchyoulive]

It's a simple conversation at the hospital. She comes to tell him that she's leaving; it's not that he owes her a goodbye or that she wanted him to make her stay. Honestly, it's that she wants to see him alive after everything that happened. Too much blood; it still stained her shirt, but she'd never wear those clothes again anyhow.

They were wadded up in the trashcan at the boardinghouse, the rest of her clothes neatly in her suitcase. She's not sure where she's going to go now - there were some rooms for rent Atlanta. The world seemed to be getting smaller and smaller since the automobiles were getting more popular, but she figured that Georgia should be far enough. No one would know her - not the deputy, not the Bonderants, and especially not anyone from Chicago.

So she saw him. Still alive, still too pale but she wasn't particularly picky. What she hadn't expected-- well. Honestly Maggie didn't expect much when it came to Forrest - not that she didn't hold him in high regard, but it was more that she never actually knew what he would say when he actually opened his mouth.

That she should stay at the station - that he wanted to keep her safe-- it made her hesitate.

And then for some reason, she said yes.

Her steps from the hospital were sure even though she had a hundred questions if she had one, and her brows furrowed as she hesitated, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, her hands cupped to block the wind, her suitcase by her T-strap heels.

When she looked up from lighting her cigarette, she nearly screamed.

Gone were the green trees and breeze. Gone was everything she'd known, and now she stood in a hallway that was completely unfamiliar, with electric lights along the ceiling. She'd not seen waste like that since she'd left Chicago, and she bent to pick up her bag, frozen like a deer because she was so overwhelmed.

"Hey, get out of the way!" She stepped back from the young woman who was carrying a basket full of clothes, but she couldn't not stare, given that she was barely wearing any clothing. Still, Maggie did what she could; she stopped her. She got information. She got her envelope, her apartment-- she'd appeared right in front of the door. Fumbling with her key, she squinted as she tried to get the unfamiliar key in the keyhole, her mind awhirl. She hadn't realised that while she'd appeared in front of her apartment, the one across the hall? It was rented out some three weeks ago by one James Forrest Bondarant.

Comments

[controlthefear]

The goddamn telephone wouldn't stop its ringing. Wrong numbers, solicitation, various minor annoyances. After the fourth call, Forrest Bondurant had started dolling out death threats. In the end, that made him feel marginally better, even though he'd judged the new, modern world and found it wanting. People were scarce, a good number of the apartments in his building standing empty, which was more than fine by him. But they were all a bunch of busybodies, and he was sure he'd never get used to living in such tight quarters with a bunch of damn strangers.

He spent his whole life on Bondurant land, surrounded by kin, and he'd planned on dying that way. The change had been more than a little inconvenient.

Sack of garbage in hand, Forrest shuffled out of his apartment, muttering unintelligibly under his breath. When he saw her, all done up in red, well. Who could've blamed him for thinking she was nothing but an apparition?

But she was as solid as he was, her keys jangling. He could hear the rustle of her velvet dress.

"Maggie? Aw, hell. Maggie?" He took a step into the hallway, leaving his door wide open. There wasn't a damn thing worth stealing in there, anyhow. "Whatchu doin' there?"

[watchyoulive]

Finding a job only took two days - it seemed that determination and showing up was just as effective as it'd been at the Station. It was difficult in ways that she didn't expect, but Maggie still showed up every day and did her job.

Food safety regulations, microwaves, blenders, modern coffee makers - she was new to all of them. She didn't talk to anyone about the difficulties, and when she'd burned herself on the alarmingly hot carafe she'd just chalked it up to a learning experience.

There was a lot of learning to be had.

She'd brought Forrest dinner, that first day she'd worked. Since then, he'd become a regular at the diner. It became normal, somehow - he'd come in, but she'd also pick up dinner for both of them and they'd eat it when she'd get back to her place, knocking on his door once she got herself settled.

She'd expected today to be the same, moving to pour him a cup of coffee; it was about ten minutes to sundown, and it was the end of a shift. "Do you want anything else, Forrest?"