'An Odd Trio' (Reese Version)

 [Alternate Text: An overhead shot of an empty, curved road winding through a densely forested area. There are towering evergreens and trees packed tightly around the pathway, creating areas of shade and light along the narrow road. The title: 'An Odd Trio' is in a 3D font with a long shadow stretching out behind it. The names 'Reese', 'Sofia', and 'Becca' are along the road in white text.]

This writing implies a budding romance between J. Corvin and the MC, but the actual Alternate Perspective is R. Verner. This occurs during Chapter 4/5 of TFS: Book One when the MC goes off with J, leaving R, B, and S as the other group to search the woods for Milton Callaway. 🌲

The characters in this include: Reese, Becca, Sofia, and Jane. Unfortunately, I can't account for your personalized Fernweh gang, so I appreciate your understanding! :D

"I'll go with Jane," you decide.

Finally!

Reese mentally applauds you for the choice he could see coming from several miles away. In fact, he's unsure what the distance from the back roads to the obelisk is, but that's exactly how far in advance he knew you'd end up by Jane Corvin's side. You already selected her to receive first light at the memorium. The soft candle light only enhanced how she softened for you beneath that noble detective bearing.

It was mildly intriguing to witness, but the Detective among you just might out-do herself.

Reese's lips barely curve into an unrealized smirk when Jane instantly stops surveying the empty, dirt path for any approaching cars. It's unlikely many townsfolk use these roads, yet he believes she was trying to give you freedom to choose whomever, possibly even spare herself any disappointment. You always picked her first during your schoolyard games, an honor. It was years ago; however, he wouldn't ever fault her if being overlooked stung a little.

Although that 'little sting' could feel devastatingly piercing to someone like Jane.

Your return has caused things to shift with nostalgia both softening and sharpening the similarities and differences between you four.

Jane's head snaps around with a force that should have pulled something in her neck; it's all reflex, a startled and hopeful one. She does hold eye contact with you. It's like she still can't believe her eyes that you're here. (To be fair, that's also why Reese slowed his convertible to a crawl to take you in—to confirm your arrival in town without any gossip. He needed to know.)

"Me…?" Jane softly clarifies before clearing her throat. "I'll be glad to pair up with you—for the search effort."

Someone's a sufferer of the Freudian slip.

Reese's smirk shifts into a knowing smile that gains more ground, no longer a suggestion of his well-intentioned amusement. A silent warning look from Sofia curbs his need to say something that helps steer things along. What else could slip out from the town's overworked and likely underloved Detective? He rolls his eyes, relenting instead with a small step away.

"The groups are all settled then," Sofia concludes. "See you both later."

Your friend, Becca, shoots an uncertain glance in your direction that would be too quick for most people to perceive, except Reese was already observing her—how she would take the news. She must view you as a source of security, if not familiarity. It's understandable, especially as the two groups start to diverge.

You're getting farther and farther away.

"I would be far more worried about what could bite you in there than us," Reese jokingly points out, which receives a worried grimace from the visitor. Oh, she's precious. "Not that you should fret about that either. Perhaps, only the ticks?"

"How comforting, you went from flesh wounds to blood-sucking insects in less than a second."

Sofia's flat comment is paired with her neatly stepping to be the apex of this group's triangle, while Reese remains comfortably on her left and Becca trails nearby on the right side. She's squinting at where you and Jane went. The thick tree line barely allows snatches from his specially ordered flashlights, LEDs rendered a less bright white from the towering, dark trees.

"I try," he sarcastically quips. "I prefer admiring the outdoors from the indoors, you know that."

"We're already in them, so let's get going."

"Yeah, you're right," Becca reluctantly agrees. "I guess we're searching for that missing kid…"

"Milton," Reese off-handedly remarks. "When I find where he has holed up for this prank, he will wish he found an underground bunker." In spite of expressing that, Reese's flashlight is on and he is panning it around with more care than even Sofia. The light doesn't penetrate as much as he'd hoped, inspiring him to imagine a grid over what he sees and illuminate it, each section and distant corner. "I do wonder how the station will treat his truck—if it will be impounded and dragged off to be"—his tone turns dubious—"'evidence'. The Detective grumbled as much… As you both well heard."

Becca's eyes jump from a nearby tree hollow to him and then back again, although there was a flicker of agreement in her non-combative act.

Like him, she was taken aback by Jane's stern reaction enough to step away, except that was likely motivated by her shiny detective's badge rather than surprise. It actually threw him off for a split second before that tone—that order—both rankled something in Reese and set it on edge. Jane is normally so mild-mannered. It's not his place to be concerned, but it is unusual.

"She's stressed," Sofia states matter-of-factly while her patient expression requests empathy from him. "Let it go."

"That advice is better suited for someone else."

Reese offers a falsely innocent, close-lipped smile beneath Sofia's sudden attention where she continues to hold her flashlight beam over her head; however, it suddenly feels like he's the one in that spotlight. He can sense the call-out before her lips barely part. She has never been one to shy away from this. It's refreshing.

"You're right," she knowingly remarks without missing a beat. "At least loosen your grip then."

Reese's hushed scoff is softer than Jane's 'me' when you said her name; it's pitiful. Still, Sofia knows between the two of them, he is the one who holds onto things more without being as broodingly—painfully—devotedly honest about it all. "I will still leave marks," he jokes with a twist of his lips. "Very well, she is stressed. It's partially why I defrayed Bowers, but I doubt we know the true extent of the strain… Just be mindful."

There's no retort from her after he states that even if they could both come up with half a dozen; no, Sofia can detect his concer—his warning. The two share a brief look before Reese focuses on Becca. Once again, she's treating a beam of light like a hyperactive pixie hopped up on something similar to when you all were out at your grandfather's cabin. Wasn't she scanning around earlier? It was calmer. He along with Sofia pause to watch your friend, halting the group's walk through the forest.

"What are you doing?" Reese inquires. "We are not attempting to signal anyone…"

"I thought I heard something!"

She quickly stage-whispers that as if the thing in question might hear her speaking ill about it.

"Like what?" Sofia clarifies in a murmur. "Can you describe it?"

"A twig snapping?" Reese breezily suggests. "I feared he might set off firecrackers, but he isn't that callous with his pranks… I don't believe."

Becca shifts some once she is the center of attention, preferring to concentrate on Sofia out of what Reese is going to assume is familiarity. The two are staying together. He takes the cue to continue his careful survey for any stray chip bags (cheddar cheese blast) or any soda cans (cherry extreme). Milton would never let him spend more than a few dollars on a snack—on him. He should have eaten real food that was cooked instead of gas station goods. Reese tightens his grip on the flashlight's cylinder, feeling its warmth from being turned on compared to his cool palm.

He brought extra batteries for this dumb prank; it isn't a search effort.

Who would think a faux search effort in a small town is funny? No one with taste. He could do better, planting the wrong colored flowers to vex the beautification committee is an idea or messing with one of the statues on the—

Hisssssss…

Reese's thoughts about Milton are interrupted by a soft, sibilant sound that mingles between their harsh edges before they can dare to turn inwards. He instantly reacts. Grabbing Becca's hood and pulling back in time with her taking a step forward causes her to stumble closer to him and whirl around. Even then, she doesn't appear upset when garish orange cotton was just flush against her throat. It wasn't rough, only abrupt. She's staring at Reese in confusion with a blush setting in from what happened—the discomfort, embarrassment, surprise?

"It wasn't my intention to scare you, but…"

He forms a set of fangs with his index and middle finger before clamping them over the flashlight's head. Its beam is now a thin sliver that he uses to reveal a—

"Ohmygod, oh my—look at that—I almost hit it!"

The tautness on her hoodie's hood becomes further slack as Becca lurches into him and Sofia who's handling it far better by offering a comforting hand. He isn't great at this part. "He is not venomous," Reese shares. "Well… Sofia?"

"Let's just leave it—him?—the snake alone."

Among the branches of a tree rests the coils of a thick-bodied snake, perched to strike out at any passing birds or creatures who might visit the nearby creek running through the area. It's a mottled brown, two shades, with a pattern on its back. A forked tongue flicks out in what Reese views as a greeting until Sofia taps his elbow while still managing Becca who got way too close to the reptile. He waves off her action, still keeping the snake minimally in the light as they backtrack away. "That will probably be the most thrilling part of tonight," he jokes.

Becca offers him a weak half-smile; however, it seems genuine enough. Sofia sighs quietly.

"I would've rather seen a deer or a bunny rabbit—something warm-blooded, but, uh, without too many teeth," she admits. "Maybe a raccoon?"

"So would the snake," Reese notes, which effectively paves the way for a new topic when Becca swallows. "How do you find Fernweh?"

"'Find it?'" she repeats him, eyebrows knitting briefly. "Like, you mean how do I like it? Oh…"

No, he didn't, but that careful wording to spare her any awkwardness was just self-inflicted.

"It's very green."

Reese actually grins at her answer, which does appear to make Becca reconsider it until his laughter ensures to include her. "That it is," he agrees. "Very verdant greenery with a history all its own, but we lack a tourism depot. You do not need to worry about that with us… I was simply curious, no harm. [Surname] has more ties that could bind compared to your outlook."

Nostalgia and trauma are heady things.

"We should apologize for the memorium," Sofia adds after a moment. "How they treated you."

Reese is missing something; that's rare. He glances between the two of them, quickly able to connect the dots. His focus wasn't on your friend—the Visitor—compared to the last minute checks for the event, appeasing his mother's expectations, and then you. It seems there was some exclusion? "What happened exactly?"

"Oh, no it's—it kind of makes sense, really. I'm new in town, and it was a ceremony type of thing," Becca quickly assures them. "I wasn't sure if I was supposed to take one—a candle. It was more of a peer pressure thing because everyone else had one… I didn't need one."

"But did you want one?" Reese asks with less amusement, thoughtful. "For [Surname]?"

"Well, yeah, so I could support [him/her/them]."

Reese's respect for this newcomer—for Becca— heightens after a single sentence; however, his care is a rarity—scarce—and your return home is already stirring things up. He offers her a small smile, a touch more sincere. "Then as a bloodline, I do apologize for the utter absence of hospitality," Reese starts. He holds up his hand, requesting a brief pause before Becca can ramble further. "And should you try to refuse my apology while on Fernweh land, then we will have to have a duel for my honor, so… I would suggest you at least heed it. Unless you enjoy fencing? Guns are rather impersonal."

. . .

Becca stares at him, while he has the delight of earning one of Sofia's good-humored eye rolls.

"He's joking," Sofia reassures her. "There is no duel. That isn't how those work, historically."

"Some of our traditions are rather convoluted," Reese concedes. "Others are more dark, but if it is any consolation: the candles were scentless."

"Reese," Sofia intones. "Don't start."

"What? All I'm saying is that they could have undertaken more effort, possibly even thought about a preferred scent or a seasonal one."

Becca fights a smile at the suggestion before the two of them start to have a back and forth.

With that, the other group, absent of you and Jane, continues their search for Milton while conversing some to break up the dark mood.