the return of betsy

[puckandpie]

I'll admit it, I am absolutely guilty of sticking with my safe areas when it comes to baking. I know my strengths there, know what I can fiddle with and how, know what flavors might taste good together and how I can alter the texture of a thing by changing an ingredient or two or altering the bake time just a little. I'm comfortable baking pies. I have been for years.

Baking a cake however, is another story.

I'm on my third attempt at what might hopefully turn out to be Lee and Eric's wedding cake and, honestly, I'm trying not to get too discouraged. The first two hadn't been outright disasters, but neither had felt good enough for so important an occasion. I haven't even started on the decoration part of things and I'm honestly not even sure where to start there. I'll probably end up with something simple if only because if I try anything at all complicated, I'll just ruin it instead.

But for now, I'm trying a white chocolate with raspberry cake, the batter all poured and ready for the oven.

Only when I turn around to do just that, my oven is.. it's...

Oh my goodness. "Betsy??"

I have enough presence of mind to set the pan down before I'm on my knees, feeling along Betsy's glass front and metal sides, all her dings and scratches from years of wayward chairs and hockey sticks and dropped kegs. She's still cool to the touch and I don't even mind that I'll have to set her to pre-heat again. It's Betsy, my sweet, under-appreciated Haus friend, my steady rock, my girl who was always there for me every morning when I got up early to make breakfast, meeting me when I got home from class, there when Jack and I worked together on our final--

Oh.

It hits all once then, like uncorking a champagne bottle, an explosion of memories from all sides. I can remember getting Johnson's dibs, remember not even knowing what that meant until the others explained it. I remember my room right across the hall from Jack's and him yelling at me for singing too loudly in the shower, to study nights with Ransom and Holster, to threatening time and time again to get rid of that horrible, awful couch and only backing down for fear of Shitty's wrath. I remember the frogs, Nurse and Dex always at each other's throats, and sweet precious Chowder just trying to avoid getting caught in the fire. I remember Lardo's art exhibit and, oh goodness, Shitty getting into law school. I remember... I remember meeting Kent Parson, remember the look on Jack's face when he opened the door and saw me accidentally eavesdropping, remember how shaken he looked and how awful and small I felt when he slammed his door. I remember getting to the playoffs again, the thrill of being on the ice with Jack, still on his line, and I remember losing, too.

I remember finding Jack in the loading docks alone. I remember sitting with him. I remember the feel of his pads under my arms as I tried to comfort him. I remember crying with him, letting myself cry with him.

My chest aches suddenly, and I'm still bent over in front of Betsy, gasping for air. I wonder if this is what it feels like for Jack when he's having a panic attack, like the whole world is spinning and caving in all at once.

Or maybe I'm just being overly dramatic.

I don't have much time to think on it either way before the sound of my doorbell ringing pierces through my thoughts.

"Just-- Uhm. One second, please!" I call out, taking a moment to scramble to my feet.

My face feels cold and clammy and I have to force a breath as I wipe my hands off on my apron and go to answer the door.

Comments

[krempuff]

Krem hadn't been making too many house calls, lately--not that he made many in the first place--but he had wanted to thank Eric for being a sympathetic ear on that rainy day when he'd put himself out on the dock. He'd appreciated it, more than he had any ability to admit to really. And, Eric having complained about the muffin he'd gotten at the cafe they'd gone to, Krem had tried his best at turning his favorite lemon cake into something like a muffin. It hadn't gone quite to plan, but he thought the effort was mostly where things laid.

Inside Eric's apartment, he could hear him rustling about. Krem waited patiently, staring down at the muffins and pushing aside thoughts of the last time he'd made lemon cake.

[puckandpie]

Hastily smoothing down my hair, I force another breath or two before opening the door, pleasantly surprised to find Krem on the other side.

"Oh! Hi!" I tell him, my smile feeling a little forced, but not because of him at all. I haven't really spoken to him since that day I found on the dock and we shared a coffee. He looks... well, he still looks a little sad, if I'm honest. But I suppose maybe I'm not the best judge of that.

"Is... Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

[krempuff]

"Hi," Krem said, and smiled a little. "Yes--I mean, no, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong. I--tried making muffins off a cake recipe from home, since the muffin you had at the cafe, you said it wasn't all that good, and I had some time. I thought you might like them?"

They still weren't nearly as pretty looking as any of the pastries that Eric turned out were, but then Krem had never been a baker. All the cooking and baking he'd ever done had been for sustenance, then taste, and presentation had been a far distant runner up to everything else.

He held up the container he had--the one that Eric had sent his brownies over in, back after Mardi Gras--and chuckled softly. "Plus, I wanted to return your container. Convenient excuses for both things."

[iwasmore]

Like he's been pulled in by Bitty's anxiety, Noah simply appears in Bitty's kitchen. He glances around at his surroundings, taking it all in stride, and then his gaze falls on Bitty, crouched down in front of a small white stove looking quietly panicked.

"What's wrong?" he asks softly, kneeling next to Bitty, watching him with calm blue eyes.

[puckandpie]

I nearly jump straight out of my skin when I realize I'm not alone, grabbing Betsy with one hand and nearly hitting Noah out of sheer shock with other.

"How did you--" I stop short, heart still thumping when I realize exactly who I'm talking to. And how he could get in here without even opening the door. Goodness, there are some things I'll just never get used to.

Wiping a hand over my face, I force myself to take another shaky breath. "It's-- I'm okay. I'm..." I trail off, shaking my head a little as I try to get to my feet, leaning against Betsy for balance. Betsy!

"Did, uh... Do you need something? Is everything okay?"

[iwasmore]

"Sorry for scaring you," Noah says, nearly shrinking back against the wall and disappearing altogether. He needs to remember not to do this, to knock, to call, to warn people first. What had he been thinking?

"I thought-- I was going to ask you that. You seem upset," he says, even quieter than before, like a skittish animal about to bolt.

[boywhoflew]

Stopping in was a matter of convenience. At least, that was what Carson had told himself when he had stopped off on the third floor instead of continuing up to his own apartment on the seventh. He had seen Eric less than a week prior, but despite his pressing he still hadn't found out if the boy had submitted his Barton application yet. Carson had already polished his to a degree that could only be declared perfection and had sent it away with a hope and prayer. Not to mention the promise to start throwing pedestrians off of bridges if he didn't get good news back. Eric on the other hand, had been dodging his inquiries in a manner that was outright annoying and obvious.

Determined that Eric wouldn't be able to dodge answering his questions if he was barricaded in his own home, Carson rang the doorbell and shifted the strap of his book-bag higher up onto his shoulder. He had come over straight after class had let out and he already had squared his shoulders in preparation for Eric's avoidance.

His presence at Eric's door had everything to do with the other boy's future and absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his own apartment promised nothing but schoolwork and boredom.

[puckandpie]

I have to force another breath once I reach the door, scrubbing a hand quickly over my face before turning the nob, my pre-pasted smile faltering the second I see that it's Carson on the other side.

Not that I'm upset to see him, of course. I like Carson. Most of the time.

It's more that I can already guess exactly why he's here.

"Hey," I breathe, trying to ignore the way my heart is still pounding. "Hi. What are you doing here?" I ask, like I don't already know. "Everything okay?"

[boywhoflew]

His original intent had been to just launch into the heart of the problem, but the way Eric's smile dropped made him hesitate. It shouldn't sting as he'd seen that same response enough times to know that it comes with the territory of him so much as walking into a room the majority of the time, but it does make a small stab against his ribcage that he immediately squashes down and chooses to ignore. To his classmates back in Clover and even a few here in Darrow it was a familiarity. It made sense to expect the same from Eric. After all, a few pies and a trip down to the university doesn't make them friends.

With the exception of Malerie, he doesn't make friends.

Carson suddenly realized he had been standing there in silence and instead shoved his shoulder strap up a little higher, if only to occupy his hands. "Um," he started, then grit his teeth and huffed at his own in-eloquence. Setting his expression to something neutral he aimed for casual indifference. "Nothing's wrong. I just thought I'd check in and see if you had finished your application yet." With a short hesitation he added, "But if you're busy I can come back later."

[willnothide]

Earlier in the afternoon, Kili had sent Bitty a series of smiling poop emojis for no particular reason at all before being pleasantly surprised by an invitation to join him at his home for pie. It's hardly anything Kili could hope to decline, it would simply be rude, so he eagerly answers in the affirmative and by the time he's finished with his shift at the flower shop, he's practically bouncing with excitement at the promise of having something sweet prepared especially for him.

With him, he carries a bright and playful bouquet consisting solely of an assortment of Gerbera Daisies, one he thinks Bilbo would approve of and Ori would have delighted in had Kili made it for his old friend. It's all he can truly offer in exchange for Bitty's kindness and after knocking at the door, he waits as patiently as he can, which is to say, not very patiently at all.

He's bouncing on his feet by the time Bitty opens the door, and Kili is just about to hold the flowers out in front of him when he catches sight of his friend's expression. "Mister Bitty," he says, eyes widened with worry, "forgive me for saying it, but you don't look well."

[puckandpie]

The sight of Kili really shouldn't be surprising, of course. I had asked him to pop by for some pie, I'd just completely forgotten about it in my feverish wedding cake attempts. But I certainly hadn't been expecting him to bring a beautiful arrangement of flowers with him and, for a moment, I'm just staring at them.

There's been a lot to process.

The concern in his voice knocks me out of my daze and I shake my head quickly. "I'm-- I'm fine," I assure him, stumbling back a little to invite him in and scratching at the back of my head. "Just, uh... just some strange things happening is all. You didn't have to bring flowers, but my, those are beautiful. Let me just get a vase."

My mind is still reeling as I head back toward the kitchen, purposefully not looking at Betsy as I hop up to pull a vase from the very top shelf of my cupboard.

[willnothide]

By no means does Kili believe him but even so, he follows Bitty inside, peering around suspiciously, as if the answer to why his friend is acting so strangely will promptly present itself. It doesn't, of course, but Bitty seems to like the flowers, so Kili allows for the unexpected behavior to take a wayside to his pride for just a moment.

"You really like them?" he asks, beaming. "I thought the daisies a perfect match for you, in their brightness." Bilbo had told him once, long ago when their journey had barely even begun, that daisies are a symbol of innocence. At the time, Kili had resented the little chain of the flowers Bilbo had given him but now, he does so wish to be able to hold it in his hand again. It'd be a well-met symbol of a memory he'd learned to cherish too late.

Returning his attention to Bitty, though, his smile fades back into a mild frown. Even as Bitty reaches for the base, Kili can see his movements are stilted, his shoulders stiff. "Are you quite sure you're alright? You don't seem yourself at present."

[eatmoreprotein]

When I ring the bell, it's really only to give him a warning. We've started just walking into each other's apartments if they're unlocked, sort of like back at the Haus, and I'm opening the door even as I hear Bittle call out.

"It's just me," I say. Bittle comes around the corner and I frown at the look on his face. I may not be the most intuitive person, but it's obvious that he's upset. "Bittle, ça va-- uh. What's wrong?"

[puckandpie]

I'm still running a hand through my hair, heart pounding as I round the corner to the living room. I barely even hear Jack before I see him standing there right in front of me.

For a moment, all I can do is stare, all these memories swirling in my brain -- coffee at Annie's, froyo after games, walking along the quad together, baking in the kitchen, chirping on the ice and off, the feel of his coat over my shoulders, him carrying me after making a mess of myself at Spring C -- it all hits as I'm staring at him, when he's looking at me like that, with such concern.

I'm in love with Jack Zimmermann.

"Jack," I breathe, shaking now because... because this can't be happening. This cannot be happening. It's one thing to have a serious, stupid crush on your completely unattainable best friend-slash-boss and another to be in love your captain-slash-friend-slash-actually-maybe-best-friend-now-that-you-can-remember-the-past-year. Best friend who is relying almost completely on you to help get him through possibly the most traumatizing thing to ever happen to him short of rehab.

This really really can't be happening.

My chest hurts and I still feel like I can barely breathe, but I have to say something so I look back toward the kitchen. "Betsy," I tell him stupidly. "Betsy just got here and... and I remember. I remember everything."

I wish I could make myself sound happier about it.

[eatmoreprotein]

Something must have happened. Bittle looks so upset, and I rush forward and I put my hand on his arm, furrowing my brows in concern. I'm not expecting him to say what he says, and I blink a few times as it processes.

"Your aunt?" I ask, and then I shake my head. "No, your oven? Your oven is here?"

I'm so confused that it takes a moment for the rest of it to catch up and I look at Bittle with wide eyes, holding my breath. It seems too good to be true. "Wait-- what do you mean you remember everything?"

[myfavoritedream]

It was a whim, I told myself. I was in the neighborhood, and bored, and didn't have anything better to do. But that wasn't really true. It would've been easy just to let ourselves drift. We didn't have anything in common, except for Derek and a few shared experiences, and that was always a tenuous connection at best.

I showed up at his apartment that afternoon because I wanted to. Because I was curious. Downstairs, I slipped into the lobby behind someone else and road the elevator up. When I got to his door, I could hear his voice from inside, strained and muffled.

"It's me," I called, scratching at a ding in the paint on the door frame.

[puckandpie]

I'm almost as surprised to hear Neil's voice on the other side of the door than I am anything else and I smooth my hair off my forehead and force one more breath before I open the door.

"Neil," I say, voice still shakier than I'd like as I stare at him. I can't remember the time he just swung by here and I'm suddenly a little worried something else has happened while I was busy having a stroke. "Is everything okay?"

[myfavoritedream]

It wasn't a surprising reaction, but I rolled my eyes anyway.

"Yeah, everything's okay. Are you gonna let me in, or what?"

There were splotches of color on his cheeks and his eyes were bloodshot. Something had happened. It seemed like something was always happening. Not just with him, but with everyone. It seemed like there wasn't a single fucking week that went by where shit didn't hit the fan.

[triskehale]

Things with Bitty have seemed a bit off lately. He's seemed skittish and sad in a way that Derek hoped would resolve itself, but it doesn't seem to be. Bitty seems to be withdrawing a bit and while Derek wants to respect that and give him space, he also doesn't want to let him think that Derek isn't completely on his side.

He wants to be a good alpha, even if he is distracted now. The pack is important, probably more than anything else. So Derek decides to swing by Bitty's apartment and see if maybe he wants to go grab some lunch, or maybe even go skating.

When he raises his hand to knock, he can smell the distress before his knuckles even make contact with the wood. He knocks urgently, swallowing back worry. "Bitty? It's me, open up."

[puckandpie]

The sound of Derek's voice comes as another shock, but maybe more surprising is the fact that my stomach doesn't flip in its usual way. I'm still undoubtedly glad to hear his voice, knowing somehow that it means that, whatever is going on, I'll be okay. I'll be safe.

But it's missing some sort of edge. It doesn't hurt like it has at times lately.

Still, my hands are shaking as I open the door to his worried face. "I'm okay," I tell him, knowing he can probably smell how distressed I am. "It's, just. Something happened. Something..." I trail off, opening the door wider to let him in as I look back toward the kitchen. "My, uh... my oven from home, from the Haus, it's. It's here."

I don't mention how I can suddenly remember a year's worth of things I never even realized I'd been missing, if only because I don't know how. I'm not sure I'll ever know.

[triskehale]

Bitty is actually shaking when he opens the door and Derek looks him over as he reaches out to grip his shoulder, eyes flaring red and darting around the room to look for a threat. He calms a little when Bitty explains, expression going more sympathetic than alarmed.

"Oh," he says, shutting the door behind him and looking towards the kitchen. The oven looks completely out of place and smells like burnt food and oddly, a little like cheap beer. But it is just an oven, even if it's of sentimental value, and Derek looks at Bitty curiously with a hand still on his shoulder. "Did you get anything else with the oven? Like... memories of home?"

He remembers finding Neil with that torn up piece of money and all the trauma that came with it, and he wonders if something similar happened to Bitty. He sure seems shaken up enough, and Derek hates once again that no matter how hard he tries, he can never really protect his pack from Darrow itself.

[shuck_you]

Thomas had been in the neighborhood and, after last time of he and Bitty not seeing each other for awhile, he decided to stop in to at least check in, see how Bitty was doing. He could hear noise from within the apartment so he found himself knocking and waiting.

"Hey shank, it's just me," Thomas said, tucking his hands into his pockets and waiting for Bitty to get to the door. He couldn't make out what was going on behind the closed door but Bitty was home, at least.

[puckandpie]

I recognize Thomas's voice right away and feel something tight inside me relax a little as I open the door, even if my hands still feel shaky.

"Hi," I breathe when I see him on the other side and then try for my best smile before remembering something like this has actually happened to Thomas before. Maybe not the stroke-like park, but I definitely remember when he got that file months ago, and how distraught it made him.

My smile drops then and I take a step closer, strangely comforted that he probably won't think I'm insane, at least. "Thomas, I got something from home," I tell him. "My, uh. The Haus oven. One second I was bakin' a cake and the next she's there where my oven used to be."

[worst_greatest_one]

I've gotten Puff a handsome new carrier, not one of those awful plastic ones but a padded one with lined windows she can peer out of and a nice, thick blanket to lie on. She's hasn't made a single peep on the journey over, but I still lift the carrier to look at her, sticking my fingers through a gap in the zipper to rub her soft head. I still can't quite believe that Baz has gotten me a cat, but already I adore her.

Bits has one, too, which is only half the reason I've come over to his. It's been since the party that we talked, and I miss him. Lifting a hand, I knock carefully so as not to jostle the carrier. "Hey!" I call, rather lately, I suppose. I didn't even check if it was alright to come over first, but it's done now. "It's Simon!"

[puckandpie]

I'm halfway to the door, walking on shaky legs, when I hear Simon's voice. It startles me; I haven't seen him since the Mardi Gras party where he was wearing those gold wings and looked incredible. We hadn't really talked that night or since, haven't really talked much at all since he told about Baz, and I'm suddenly nervous about why he might be here.

And my noggin' is still a mess with... whatever is happening right now.

My hands shake as I unlock the door and I try for a smile when I see him because, regardless of who he's seeing, he's still Simon. He's still the boy who first kissed me, who ever wanted to kiss me, and he's still lovely.

"Hi," I tell him, hating my voice sounds so shaky and unsure. My gaze drops to the thing he's holding and I blink at it, dumbly. "Sorry, I... Did you bring a cat?"