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Assistant: Title: counting all the numbers between zero and one
        Author: komlanikde komlanikde 
        Chapter: 1/2 
        Summary: Octavia's car is breaking down, her search for her missing brother is stalling out, and she's starting to feel hopeless.That is, until Raven Reyes shows up with a tow truck, a house full of misfits, and an offer Octavia can't refuse.
        Contents: Chapter 1: sh@t for luck, elbows shredded
    

    


  

  
  
    
    Raven loves her job. Sinclair says she’ll probably burn herself out by thirty, but so be it. Owning her own shop at twenty-two is the stuff dreams are made of.That being said, nobody mentioned the part where it’s really hard to own a towing company ethically, and it turns out, it’s really f@ck@ng hard. Roadside assistance and towing illegally-parked cars out of accessible parking spots is one thing, but she always feels bad when someone just forgot to register their car for a visitors’ spot at someone’s apartment complex. That’s why she’s the onsite mechanic and Murphy is the d@ck who takes peoples’ vehicles in the middle of the night. Tonight, though, Murphy’s got his yearly round of winter respiratory b@llsh@t, which means Emori’s out of work taking care of him at the same time Echo’s on her yearly vacation to see her family in Canada. That leaves Raven and Maya to hold down the fort. Maya may be a d@mn good dispatcher, but she’s approximately the least intimidating person Raven’s ever met. She’d probably open the app and register all of the illegally-parked cars herself just to avoid offending anyone, which is why Raven is the one driving to some apartment complex she’s already forgotten the name of to tow away a 2002 Crown Vic, cherry red and probably all sorts of f@ck@d up under the hood. She’d bet her good leg that it's got a coolant leak.She pulls into the parking lot and quickly spots the bright red eyesore, parked right under a streetlight. She double-checks the license plate and then starts her mandatory “is there someone inside the vehicle” check, except this time, there actually is.A girl in the backseat. Dark-haired and fast asleep—or is she dead? Oh, please don’t let her be dead.Raven raps on the window with bated breath, and the girl springs up, a knife clutched in her right hand, wild-eyed. 
  F@ck, why doesn’t this sh@t ever happen to Murphy or Echo?
Knife Girl reaches over and opens the door. “I don’t have any money, and someone already stole my catalytic converter,” she says. She keeps her voice steady, but her hands tremble around the handle of her knife. Raven raises both her hands, takes a step back, studies her.She’s got circles under her eyes, so dark Raven can see them even in the dim light of the streetlamp. Her left cheek is bruised to hell, and she’s pale with exhaustion.“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Raven says. Knife Girl’s eyes adjust to the light, and she squints out the back windshield before turning her gaze back to Raven.“Oh. You’re the tow-truck girl.”“Actually, Murphy’s the tow-truck girl. He’s out sick, so now it’s my job.”“Look, I’ll move the car, okay? Just, please don’t take it.” Tears start welling up in her eyes as she shoves the knife into the back pocket of the passenger seat. “It’s all I have left.”“You said someone took the cat converter?” Knife Girl nods.“Yeah. I don’t know how I slept through that. The transmission’s f@ck@d up too, I think, and I’m pretty sure something’s leaking towards the front.”“Front right, next to the tire, car overheats when you hit thirty?”“How’d you know?”“Lucky guess,” Raven replies. “Let me get her hooked up. I’ll take a look at her tomorrow.”“There’s no point. I can’t afford to get it fixed right now, and even if I could, I’m not exactly sleeping in the backseat for fun,” the girl says, shrugging and staring down at her lap. “Don’t worry about the money,” Raven replies, before she can stop herself. “I need to show Emori how to rebuild a transmission anyways, you’d be doing me a favor. You can stay in my guest room until it’s all fixed up, if you want.”If this dark-haired disaster was tugging at Raven’s heartstrings before, the look she gives her now is enough to shatter Raven’s heart into tiny little bits. Half-suspicion, half-desperation. A little bit of hope sprinkled on top. “And what’s in it for you? Nobody does anything for free.”“I do.” Raven gets up on her tiptoes, hits the hazard lights on her rig. “You can hop in the passenger seat of the tow truck, I’ll be there soon. I’d tell you not to steal it, but Emori did that and I gave her a job, so you’re free to try your luck.”The girl shakes her head, incredulous. “Alright. Sure. F@ck it, yeah, I guess this is happening. I won’t steal your truck, I have no idea how to drive that thing.”She slings her backpack over her shoulder and gets out of the car, casting one last wary look at Raven before shutting the door behind her.Raven gets her car hooked up to the rig and then hefts herself into the driver’s seat, suppressing a wince at the bolt of pain that goes through her leg. Yet another reason why she leaves the towing to Murphy and Echo.“We’ll drop her off at the shop real quick, and then I’ll take you back to my place. What do you want for breakfast?”It’s 3am, a little too early to call it a night or have breakfast, but the girl’s eyes brighten at the prospect of food and Raven decides she made the right call. “Whatever you normally make for yourself is fine.” “Oh, no, I’m not cooking. Murphy says my food is a war crime punishable by the Geneva Convention. IHOP or Waffle House?”“Waffle House,” the girl replies. “Your cooking can’t be that bad.”“It’s probably not, Murphy’s kind of an ass. But d@mn, he can cook. If a gourmet restaurant ever gets their hands on him I’m gonna lose my best driver.”“Is Murphy your boyfriend?” “F@ck no. He’s my best friend, we live together, he's partially responsible for my leg being f@ck@d up, and now he drives the tow-truck. It’s complicated.”“Sounds like it.” The faintest hint of a smile curls on her lips. “Why’d you hire a bunch of criminals?”Raven almost jumps to their defense, but Knife Girl’s got a valid point. Emori stole a bunch of sh@t from the scrapyard and tried to make off with the tow truck and Raven’s response was to offer her an apprenticeship. Murphy could've prevented the car crash that caused her paralysis and now he's her right-hand man. Echo was sent from Azgeda Towing to figure out Raven’s trade secrets and Raven lured her in with the low-hanging fruit of PTO, health insurance, and a reasonable schedule. And then Maya…Well, that’s a story for another time.“Maybe I just believe in second chances,” Raven says.The girl hums non-commitally, slinging her forearm over the panel of the truck door and resting her head on the window. They ride in silence for the rest of the way, and Raven deposits Knife Girl’s car near the shop and parks the tow truck near the entrance to the back office. “I have to do some paperwork before I lock up for the night. Here, order our food. Whatever you want. Go crazy.”Raven slides her phone across her desk to the girl, and her eyes light up as she browses the menu. Raven thumbs through her paperwork until she’s done putting in her order, and then adds her own.“What’s your name, anyways? I never asked. I’ve been calling you Knife Girl in my head.”The girl’s eyes flicker back over to Raven, and a smile lights up her face, a real one. “Octavia. You?”“Raven Reyes.”“Holy sh@t. Youngest MIT grad in 50 years Raven Reyes? Aren’t you a f@ck@ng astrophysicist?”“Orbital mechanic, and it’s 52 years, but who’s counting?” Raven replies. A surge of pride wells up in her chest only to be clamped down immediately when she remembers why she’s not building rockets or walking on the moon right now. “Dude. I used to work at Arkadia High, you're their golden child. They basically have a shrine of you in the hallways—”“I’ve seen the shrine,” Raven says. “Okay, so let me guess. Gifted kid burnout syndrome, couldn’t hang in the big city so you’re back in your hometown playing mechanic until you figure out what to do with your life?”“Try complex spinal cord injury, partial paralysis, lost my internship at NASA, and I’ve been back in my hometown playing mechanic for two years because nobody wants an astronaut with a bad leg.” Raven says this with a shrug, like it’s nothing, but she braces herself, waits for it. For I’m sorry and what a shame and can’t they do another surgery?“F@ck. That’s terrible. Guess we’ve both had some sh@t luck, huh?”“Yeah.” Raven closes her binder and finally give up on her paperwork for the night. “Seems like it. How old are you?”“Twenty-two. Old enough I should have my sh@t together,” Octavia says, with a scoff. “Are you kidding? Our lives don’t play by non-orphan rules.”“Okay, what the f@ck? You’re car-psychic and human-psychic? How did you know that? And don’t say lucky guess.”“I guess I can just tell. When you don’t have good parents, you only get three choices: get really smart, get really strong, or hope you marry rich.”“I am smart,” Octavia says, bristling and crossing her arms.“I don’t doubt it. I chose to be strong at first. Sometimes life chooses for you, though.”Octavia nods, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah,” she concedes. “Sometimes it does.”“You grew up in Arkadia?” Raven adjusts her bad leg so the pressure from the floor lands on her brace instead of her ankle, exhaling a frustrated sigh when she can’t find a comfortable position.“Nope. Came here looking for my brother,” Octavia replies. “We got separated in the system when I was ten. He disappeared a year later. I’ve been trying to find him ever since.”“Jesus Christ.” “Yeah, it’s kind of a depressing party fact, but that’s why I’m here. I moved here to chase down a lead that ended up being a dead end, and then my car broke down. I didn’t have enough savings to fix it, so I couldn’t get to work, and I lost my apartment.”Raven gnaws at the inside of her cheek, scooting her chair closer to her desk. She tries not to abuse the privilege of having friends in high places, but Clarke owes her a favor for all those free repairs Raven’s done on her piece-of-sh@t Toyota Avalon, anyways. “Was he ever in the system here?” Raven asks.“Yeah, he was here for his third placement. He was only here for three months, but a friend of his saw one of my posts and reached out to me. I interviewed ten people before I couldn’t find anyone else to talk to. Got his school records, and then waited ten months for his case file only for it to have already been deleted.”“I can fix that.” Raven reaches for her phone. “Hey Siri? Call Arkadia’s Most Eligible Lesbian.”“It’s 3am. Who’s gonna answer you at 3am?”“The Regional Director of Piedmont Child Protective Services. Her contact name’s outdated, unfortunately for us all.”As if on cue, Clarke answers.“Hey, everything okay?”“Peachy. I figured you’d be awake. If I gave you the name of a missing former foster kid, would you be able to pull up all his deleted case records and send them to his sister?”“Sure thing. What’s his name and his sister’s email address?”“Hold on, lemme put you on speaker.” Raven does so, and Clarke repeats the question. “Wait, is this legal? No. Wait. Forget I asked. His name’s Bellamy Blake. My email is [email protected].”Raven hears the sound of Clarke’s laptop powering up, followed by a bunch of clicking and typing. “Okay, done. And it’s perfectly legal, I have admin override. Anything else I can do to help?”Raven raises her eyebrows at Octavia, who shakes her head, already scrolling through the file. “No, uh. Thank you so much. Holy sh@t.”“Not a problem. Have a good night, guys.”Clarke hangs up, and immediately sends Raven a text.Arkadia's Most Eligible Lesbian: Well, you had been saying you needed another dispatcher. Maybe her and Maya will get along. How’d you meet her?Raven replies with I’ll tell you during game night, swipes away the notification from Doordash, and then turns her attention back to Octavia. “Food’s here,” Raven says. “I’ll go grab it.”When Raven comes back, Octavia’s finished reading through the file, and Raven can practically see the gears turning in her mind. She sits down, finally caving and digging her leg-rest out from under the filing cabinet. “I don’t mean to get in your business, but if you want, I could try to help you problem-solve. I’m pretty good at that on cars and rockets, at least.”Octavia reaches into her bag with one hand as she pulls the lid off her to-go container with the other, slides a beat-up black binder across the table to Raven.“Be my guest,” she says. “I’ve been looking at these d@mn case files for a decade now. Maybe fresh eyes will help.”Bellamy Blake’s case file is depressing. Unknown father, dead mother, separated from his sister. The papers are covered in Octavia’s annotations, scratchy handwriting and messy arrows, question marks and newspaper scraps. When Raven’s trying to diagnose an issue with a car, she starts with a visual inspection, then an OBD-II scan, then a test drive. How different can this possibly be?She flips through the papers, watching Bellamy grow up in yearbook pictures until they change to mugshots instead. “It’s not as bad as the charges make it look,” Octavia says. “He was just trying to protect me.”“Most of my friends have criminal records. I’m not judging.” Raven replies. Octavia sinks back into her chair slowly, the defensive set of her jaw evening out as she returns to her food. Raven’s own foster care files made her look like a saint, but that’s because she didn’t have anyone to protect besides herself. Her way of staying safe was to throw herself into school face-first and avoid trouble as much as possible, even at her own expense. She can’t imagine that would’ve been as easy if she’d had someone else depending on her. “So, what’s he like? Your brother?” Raven asks, setting the binder down so she can grab her food.“Brave, protective. Really smart. He likes mythology, Greek and Roman type stuff. For someone so smart, he gets really stupid when someone he loves is in danger.”Raven nods, her brow furrowed as she looks down at Octavia’s hand-written timeline. “This gap between the foster home in Falls Church and him going missing, what do we know about that?”“Not much,” Octavia replies. “I talked to those foster parents. They said he moved out to start Independent Living and get emancipated. That’s when the trail goes dead.”“Independent Living didn’t have any records?”“In the fourth tab.”The binder is neatly sorted with long-faded tabs, but Raven’s certain that Octavia could probably recite the whole thing from memory by now. It’s the same as Raven still having her mother’s autopsy report memorized. Some things you can’t forget.“Okay, so he gets an ILP apartment, graduates early, starts working, and applies for emancipation. And then he just, what, drops off the face of the earth?”“Basically,” Octavia replies. “The foster parents I was with at the time didn’t let me call anyone, so at first, I didn’t even know…The last time I saw him, he told me he was trying to get emancipated so he could adopt me. He didn’t show up for visitation after that. I left that foster home six months later to try out an adoptive placement, and when I tried to call him, his number wasn’t in service.”“Is it possible he got a new number and couldn’t figure out how to contact you?” Raven asks. “That’s what I thought, but they tried emailing him too. He didn’t answer.” Raven could sit here trying to figure this out all night, but Octavia’s eyes are starting to droop with exhaustion, so Raven closes the binder and passes it back over. “Let’s get home and get some rest, yeah? I’ll set up a whiteboard somewhere and we can look at this more once we’re more awake.”Octavia nods, gathering up her bag and following behind Raven.“Black car’s mine,” Raven says. “Jesus Christ, is this a Mustang? This thing looks ancient.”“She’s a ‘69 Camaro, but I’m willing to let it slide that you thought I’d own a Ford,” Raven says, her right eyebrow twitching as she settles into the driver’s seat. “You stick around long enough, I might let you take her for a spin.”That’s been Raven’s go-to pickup line for…since she rebuilt this car, actually, but it’s reliable and it works. Much like the car itself, it’s a classic. However, what she shouldn’t be doing is flirting with the girl whose car she tried to tow two hours ago, but Octavia’s got her feet up on the dash and she’s looking over at Raven like she just won the lottery. Raven can’t bring herself to regret it. “You gonna teach me how to drive stick?” Octavia asks, which is approximately the hottest string of words she’s ever heard from anyone. “Sure. I’m off work on Saturday, if you want.”It’s absolutely graceless as far as responding to overt flirtation goes, but Octavia just gives her a wolfish smile and leans her head against the window, her feet still propped up right above the AC vent.“It’s a date,” she replies.Octavia has never, in her life, appreciated a shower quite this much. The water’s warm, the air smells like overpriced beauty products, and nobody’s banging on the door telling her to hurry the f@ck up. That alone feels like a miracle.She reaches for Winter Candy Apple (which, conveniently, comes with a matching shampoo and conditioner), but as she starts to lather it up it reminds her of her last Christmas with Bellamy and their mother and that brings tears to her eyes. That brings tears to her eyes—hot, stupid tears she’s not in the mood for.She scrubs them away harder than she needs to and reaches for another scent. Viva Vanilla is slightly better, less memory-inducing, but it clashes more than she thought it would with the leftovers of Winter Candy Apple. She settles for Forever Red, which is strong enough to cover the other two scents and, crucially, doesn’t remind her of any major holidays.After forty minutes, the hot water runs out. She lingers until the last bit of warmth fades and then opens the shower door, feeling considerably more alive now that her hair doesn’t feel like it’s two missed wash days from gaining sentience. Showering at truck stops is terrifying and usually-gross, and wet wipes can only take a person so far. Being clean makes her think, for a second, that things aren’t so hopeless after all. Like maybe her brother’s alive and there’s some perfectly reasonable explanation for why he’s been radio silent for ten years. Showers are like loan sharks and scam artists that way, all false reassurance, drawing out desperation so deep that any lie could feel true. She knows better, but she’s never been in the habit of denying herself happiness on the rare occasion that it comes. (Happiness, like the six months she spent in a seaside hippie commune with Lincoln by her side. Like their spur-of-the-moment road trip in their converted travel van. It ended in one of those breakups that fundamentally change who you are as a person, but it was good while it lasted. She wouldn’t change a thing, even now.)She takes a long time brushing out her hair, starting at the ends and making her way slowly and methodically up to her roots before she ties it up in double-Dutch braids for the night. Raven gave her two outfits to choose from, a long t-shirt and shorts combo and a matching pajama set patterned with what Octavia thinks are probably foxes, but they’re kind of blobby and it’s hard to tell. Octavia goes with the pajama set. It feels like something Bellamy would’ve gotten for her for Christmas—the kind of thing they only splurged on when coupons stacked up and nobody was watching the checkout total.“Hey, Raven! I’m done in the—Oh God, what the f@ck is that.”The animal in question stirs and turns to look at her, slow and deliberate, and then a woman walks out with two more of the disgusting things draped around her neck like a meat scarf. Octavia takes a full step back on sheer instinct.“That’s Thelonious,” the woman says, utterly unfazed. “I have Josephine and Finn on my shoulders, and Lexa is probably sulking somewhere. She hates visitors.”Octavia blinks. “Why do they all look like that?” she blurts out.“I’m allergic to cat hair, and my husband wanted cats.” The woman snags a piece of turkey from the counter, feeds it to one of the cats on her shoulder. “We compromised.”“They’re bald, like, always?”Before the woman can respond, Raven comes breezing into the living-room like her apartment isn’t crawling with skin-covered wrinkly nightmares.“Octavia, Emori. Emori, Octavia.”“You’re Raven’s apprentice, right?” Octavia asks, more so she has something to focus on besides the eye contact she’s been holding with Thelonious for the last three minutes or so.“I am,” Emori replies with a grin. “She’s taught me well. I heard we’re rebuilding a transmission tomorrow.”“2002 Crown Vic. It’s got a coolant leak and a missing cat, too,” Raven calls from down the hall.Emori’s face lights up. “No way, I don’t think I’ve ever done any of those repairs. I bet that engine bay’s a gold mine.”Octavia has no idea what makes an engine bay a gold mine. As a matter of fact, she’s not sure exactly where the engine bay is or what makes mechanics so thrilled by the only vehicle on Facebook Marketplace she could find for under two grand. Raven sounds giddy in the way most people sound about concert tickets or vacations, though, and that makes something weird and fluttery happen in Octavia’s stomach.“I took a pic, don’t worry. I’ll send it in Mecha Chat after I finish getting the guest room made up for Octavia.”Octavia watches her go. Somehow, Raven always seems like she’s moving at 1.5x speed, doing five things at once without ever even breaking a sweat. It’s impressive. And kind of infuriating. As Raven disappears, Emori lowers her voice conspiratorially. “She makes it sound fancier than it is. Our old roommate moved in with her boyfriend and we didn’t want to move all our sh@t to a smaller apartment.”Octavia fights a grin. “That’s where all the Bath and Body Works came from?”“Mmhmm, Maya works there part-time.” Emori replies, wincing as one of the cats propels itself from her shoulder using her collarbone as a launch pad. “F@ck’s sake, Josie.”Octavia recoils a little. They can jump. Right, of course they can. Ew.“How did you pick the cats’ names?” Octavia says, with what she hopes is a polite smile and not a grimace.“John names them after people he doesn’t like.” Emori grins. “Thelonious was his lawyer, Josephine is our friend Clarke’s sister, Finn is Raven’s ex. Lexa is Clarke’s current girlfriend who we all hate. Not because they’re gay, literally everyone in this house is bi. Lexa’s just a b@tch.”That earns a startled laugh from Octavia, even if she clamps it down quickly. “Does human Lexa know about cat Lexa?”“No. She doesn’t even know we have four. She can’t tell them apart and thinks they’re all the same cat, who we collectively refer to as Thelonious.”“She sounds delightful.” Octavia deadpans, and Emori laughs. “Next time we have game night you’ll get to hear all about the Lexa saga. John will love an excuse to complain about her. Goodnight, Octavia. Wake one of us if you need anything.”Emori excuses herself, picking up all four cats in one fell swoop and carrying them to her room.“I wasn’t sure how many pillows you sleep with so I gave you eight.” Raven says from behind her. “Look, truth be told, we don’t have guests often and the ones we do have are used to my b@llsh@t. I suck at this whole hosting thing, but if you need anything, I’m a room away.”Octavia turns to look at her—this wild, sharp-edged mechanic who’s handing her a second chance without her even asking for it. Maybe with her car fixed, she’ll be able to get a job again and the worst half-year of her life will finally be over. “This is like a Hilton Inn compared to my car,” she manages. “Thank you for your help, Raven. And the shower, and, just. Everything.” Octavia bears a hasty retreat to the guest room with a mumbled goodnight because this is more feelings than she usually likes to have on a Thursday. She closes the door behind her, sinks down against it, and starts crying with her fingertips bunched up in the apartment-beige carpet. Full-body, shaking sobs that sneak up on her like an overdose or a sucker punch. The kind that make it hard to breathe. She presses the heel of her hand to her mouth and forces herself to choke back the sobs until they fade off to little hiccups, then heavy breathing and silence. When she’s finally certain it's over, she shoves away most of the pillows, curls up under the thick comforter, and falls asleep not long after closing her eyes.'
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