Moving On

## Content Information

For once, it was quiet on campus. The chaos of Finals’ Week was over, and those students with the desire and the ability to go home had already left town ahead of the winter storm that had blown through a few days back. Unfortunately for those that had remained behind, Night Falls had been on the warm side of the storm, and instead of pristine white snow, the town had received mostly sleet and ice, and the passing of the storm had failed to bring the bright skies that would have made the ice shimmer like crystal. Instead, low gray clouds hovered overhead, clustering among the mountain tops, and a hazy mist filled the streets.

It suited Tamzen’s mood perfectly.

*Well, at least I heard the news from Dad first,* she grumbled to herself as she emptied the contents of a drawer into a box. He had called her from the hospital, and given her the news. The surgery had gone well, but it was going to be weeks before he was going to be able to be fitted for a prosthetic, and months (at best) before he’d be back to normal - whatever that new normal looked like. The university had offered him a settlement, and honestly, it was about time that he took his retirement anyways. Kitty and Abby were making plans for him to move in, once he could leave the hospital - it’d be good for him to spend more time with the grandkids. Tamzen could tell that her father was trying to put a positive spin on things, but it didn’t change the fact that his retirement was turning her life upside down.

Oh, the university had been helpful - finding her an open room at Carter Hall, and taking care of all the paperwork for her - her tuition and room and board being one of the things covered by Thomas’ settlement. But the cottage, which had been her home for as long as she could remember, belonged to the University - now that her father was no longer the head groundskeeper, they needed to move. And with her father still recovering from surgery, and her sisters up in Indianapolis getting ready for him to come home, that left Tamzen all alone to pack up a house full of memories.

*You are not going to cry,* she told herself firmly, as she closed the flaps on the cardboard box and dragged a packing tape dispenser across to seal it. *You do not have time to cry - Abby’s going to be here tomorrow morning with a truck to help pack up the furniture and take you home for the holiday, and you need to be ready.* She took the box outside, and slid it on the bed of her dad’s pickup truck… *her* pickup truck now, with the rest of the boxes headed for her room at Carter Hall. She heard the crunch of rock salt under her boots and smiled - someone from the grounds crew must have come by earlier and made sure the walkway was salted.

From a good while distance away Candy silently in the distance under a tree. Inspecting branches weighed down by ice, and removing either ice or deadfall, as required. A dagger of sadness punctures the heart. Had done their best to clean things up. The remnants of the fight itself at this point was on the wood pile. Still it ached. A reminder that the organizations care more about results. With each bit of things cleaned up to make it look nice as the head groundskeeper would have wanted. It wasn’t enough. Still, it was their fault they couldn’t save him.

The fight with Demonic Tree was timed perfectly with the storm. So much of it was hidden. Which aid it. A chameleon of wood to hide its flesh. Thrashed out, and poor, oh poor Thomas. Thinking it was nothing more than a storm. With two groundskeepers trying to take care of a tree before there was destruction of it spread about to damage the campus with the tree’s debris. Didn’t notice the bulging red eyes or mouth with a tongue of black icor. Thomas didn’t think to look for a tangle of roots. The Demonic Tree many branches and vines to ensnare Thomas, before dragging towards the mouth.

So focus on Joe, who keep getting in the way. Didn’t notice Thomas having his head hit ground hard enough to be knocked unconscious. Didn’t notice the Demonic Tree bring it close enough for its dark icor tongue, that it was about to take a bite out of Thomas.

So when Joe took a shot with no concern of Thomas it went through the leg, right into Demonic Tree eye spewing the dark icor dived into the wound. To ensure it didn’t infect Thomas had to amputate the leg, bring the whip around using the thorns to slice off the uninfected part of the leg from the infected part. They were glad Thomas was unconscious and safe while they used one of their shirts to tourniquet the wound. Was majorly out of frame while Joe basked in her glory.

A side note that didn’t care about people we’re supposed to help, supposed to defend, supposed to care for. Using Thomas’ truck to take them to the  hospital. It was their fault Thomas was harmed, Candy thought as reflected on the memory of what had occurred. Unsure whether to linger at the treeline near the cottage or to go in help the lone family member there.

After a few moments of reflection had cleared the last of the branches that might fall and impede the path. Seeing as there weren't any more tasks they could do to avoid confronting the family member. Walked over to the cottage and gave a few knocks on the door.

There was a soft rap on the door as gloves met the wooden door. The door, unlatched, swung open under their hand, releasing a cloud of warmer air.

Tamzen heard the knock, followed by the creaking of the door. “Just a second!” she called out, hurrying to answer the door - *I should probably have that looked at before Dad…* she stopped, remembering. Her father would not be returning to this cottage, and neither was she. The door was someone else’s problem now.

She approached the door, and pulled it the rest of the way open. She glanced up at the visitor, blanking for a moment as she tried to place the distinctively dressed person in front of her. Then she remembered, and she slumped against the frame of the door for support as the memories of this person bringing her father back to the cottage, in desperate need of medical care flooded back in. Of Tamzen throwing blankets in the back bed of the truck, helping with trembling hands to get her father settled comfortably, of trying to keep from crying as she drove them to the hospital. One of her father’s employees… Candace? No...Karla, that was it. Nicknamed Candy by everyone except Thomas.

She took a deep breath. “K-Karla? What… what are you doing here? Did something else happen?”

There were several quiet moments of silence before giving a response. “No, there isn’t.” There was a pause, a birth of an awkward moment hanging in the air. “I, ah, thought you might need some help.” Karla responds, doing their best not to look Tamzen directed in the eye. There is a bit of an aura shame that radiated from Karla. Even the shades and mask couldn’t hide it. Karla being the one to get Tamzen’s father to the hospital could be the reason why. Since Karla felt like they didn’t do enough to protect Thomas from the damage of the tree and cold. There was a bit of shame in movement and speech.

“I don’t need any help,” Tamzen replied flatly, immediately. She started to turn away, to reach for the door to shut them out. Then she hesitated, relented. She rubbed the back of her neck, and gave Karla an uncertain smile. “But… I guess I *could* use some company.” She stepped aside, so that they could enter the cottage.

“I’d offer you coffee, but… I already packed up the kitchen. Sorry.” Somehow it felt crucial that Karla didn’t think that Tamzen was being stingy on the social niceties - she wished she knew why that suddenly seemed so important.

Entering the cottage, “That is ok.” Karla replied, rubbing their gloved hands.” Feels more that I should help I think.” guilt was painted on their words even if they could not express it properly. “Even if it was to be an ear to hear.” Their shoulders are notable in a bit of an arch. Looking closer to 5’8” instead of their more notable 6’1” in a hunch.

“I…” Tamzen hesitated again, then shrugged and silently led Karla into her bedroom. Half-filled boxes were scattered around the floor, and nearly every drawer was open to some degree - filled with the detritus of a life lived in the same place. “You can sit on the bed if you want,” she offered, clearing away a box of garbage bags and packing tape to make room.

Karla followed and sat helping moving the boxes and bags to the floor. Sitting on the bed. Given a sudden nod. Sat quiet for a bit. Unsure as to what to say. “I am very unsure of what the socially acceptable actions here are. Other than to offer help.”

Tamzen turned her attention back to the packing, already starting to regret her decision to invite this unexpected guest in. She found it difficult enough to talk to other people - except, of course, when she was safely within the walls of her broadcasting booth at WKDN - and with the taciturn Karla, it was even more difficult. They had little in common, aside for their shared awkwardness around people, and it seemed that the two of them could not even manage to share in companionable silence.

She sighed as she opened another drawer, and started transferring the clothes into a box. In truth, she should probably be taking the time to sort through everything now - she’d certainly have less room to store everything at Carter Hall - but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. After a moment, she glanced over at the figure sitting stiffly on her bed.

“Uh… you probably already heard this, but…” Tamzen said quietly, still not meeting Karla’s eyes. “But the doctor’s think that Dad will be able to come h- to *go* home - in time for the holidays.”

“That is good to hear. You should have a festive time.” When the box was full of clothing took it out to the truck so Tamzen before returning with an empty box to help alleviate some motion so Tamzen can do the work without much effort. Just sitting on the bed till there was something to take out to the truck.

It was after one such trip that Karla found their way back into the house blocked by Tamzen. The young woman stood in the doorway, staring at them intently. For a long moment, there was silence, then finally, the question that had been left unspoken over the afternoon: “Are you going to tell me what *really* happened to him?”

“I was not quick enough to get to him. I should have, should have,” doing their best to hide any form of emotion that may be sneaking out. Doing their best to stop and breath for a bit. To try to calm down for the moment. “I should have been more aware. I should have noticed but Joe kept getting in the way. Trying to stop me from taking care of the destruction so could have the glory of the moment. Didn’t notice the hitting the ground, didn’t notice the tree limb, didn’t notice gangrenous infection soon enough.”

“It happened incredibly fast. The doctors couldn’t explain how the infection could have gotten so bad so quickly...they said an infection like that should have taken weeks to look like that.”

There is a breath of silence. “There was a blackness, and needed to be removed. I don’t know enough to be a doctor or nurse. Just basics training to deal with wounds and injuries in the field.” Here the flow of repeated words began, Karla’s voice sounded very flat as if had to repeat the phrase over and over. Many times in their life. “The life of the combatant is more important than the objective. Unless the objective is needed to complete for the survival of the combatant. Lost of life is a worse failure than loss of objective” before returning to a more natural flow. Where the sadness in their voice  was lost for a moment, before returning. “I fail to get in time, when I should be much quicker. More attentive like Harley keeps reminding me.”

With each breath became a struggle to exit with each additional word. “I, had, the, tools.” as a small slip of a tear escaped. “Yet, I failed. He shouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“No,” Tamzen agreed, her eyes as emotionless as her voice. “He shouldn’t have.”

For a long moment, she filled the doorway, staring at Karla. Then she shifted, reached behind her to grasp the edge of the door. “I-” she sighed, and tried again. “I can’t deal with your guilt, not right now. And, if you’re looking for forgiveness... I’m not the one who can give you that.” She took a deep breath, straightened up, and nodded sharply. “Thanks for coming by, but… I’ve changed my mind. I *don’t* need company after all.” She stepped back, and firmly shut the door. A moment later, Karla could hear the loud *clunk* of the deadbolt snapping into place.

At the door Karla, forehead touching the door. “You’re welcome. I don’t think I deserve forgiveness. Just this felt this is the socially acceptable thing one is supposed to do.” Giving a few moments in hopes of response. Only silence to slice sadness through the heart.