Chapter Text
Nothing but a Memory
I know they say you can't go home again.
I just had to come back one last time.
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam.
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine.
Up those stairs, in that little back bedroom
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.
And I bet you didn't know, under that live oak
My favorite dog is buried in the yard.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here it's like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me.
- The House that Built Me, Miranda Lambert
Chapter 1
The damn kitchen faucet was still dripping. It had been months and Ava had tried everything short of replacing the whole damn thing to fix it. And then, on top of that, the tap in the second bathroom wouldn’t turn on at all. With the way the whole house creaked and swayed when it stormed, she swore the entire place was one strong gust of wind away from falling apart. Literally.
Ava let out a frustrated growl as she sank down on the crooked front steps of the house, her head falling into the palms of her hands. There were times- times like these specifically- when she couldn’t help but think that the whole endeavor had been a mistake. What sane person just sold all their belongings, packed a car, and up and left the only city they had lived in their whole life to move to the middle of nowhere? Her head dropped to rest on her bent knees, lolling to the side and she found herself staring at the little faded red handprints on the splintered wood. She hated those damn handprints, they reminded her of… she shook her head. No, not thinking about it. She really just needed to buy a can of paint and cover them up. Mary had told her she could do whatever she wanted with the place.
“Yeah, it’s perfectly fine! You can stay here for free. Think of it as part of your incentives package. And if you get the urge to fix it up along the way, go for it. This place is longing for a little love.” The memory of the town Mayor’s words rang in her ear. What had she been thinking- taking on the job of town doctor in BFE America? Actually, no, calling it BFE was being too kind. This place was beyond beyond fucking everything. Starling Falls was the end of the fucking earth. A far cry from Star City and its everyday chaos. This place had absolutely no chaos. At all. The most exciting thing that had happened in the six months she had been there was that rooster wandering into her exam room. But she couldn’t go back, and if she broke her year commitment to the Rural Doctor’s Initiative, she couldn’t go forward. So, she was stuck in Starling Falls hell, in a house that was falling apart, with tiny blood red handprints on the front steps like something out of a Stephen King novel.
At least it wasn’t Maine.
The job itself was too bad, though. Rural medicine wasn’t what she had expected, in fact she hadn’t known what to expect. It was a different world from being an inner-city trauma surgeon, but that was the point, wasn’t it? To be away from all that. The stress, the trauma, the endless nights spent with a glass of whiskey in her hand trying to forget the look of…
Ava shook her head again. Within six months she had delivered two babies, diagnosed every virus possible- and caught almost as many- convinced four families that vaccines would not, in fact, harm their children, and sutured way too many lacerations from farming accidents. And then there had been Thomas Levy who had gotten a beer can stuck in a very unfortunate orifice. On a dare, or so he had said. It was different, a little boring, but not bad.
This house on the other hand—this house was terrible. She should suck it up and tell Mary that she needed a different place. Housing had been part of the contract when she signed on. She hadn’t been expecting four-star accommodations, but this place could barely pass at one. In fact, she was pretty sure the family of squirrels in the attic had just eaten whatever was left of that star for breakfast. She didn’t know how long it had been empty before she had moved in. According to the Mayor, a prominent family in the community had lived there years before- the town sheriff, his wife, and two daughters. She could see it- the house had been nice once. No one was keen to talk about what had happened. From what Ava could gather there had been some sort of accident. Both parents and the older daughter had died and the younger daughter, well, the looks on people’s faces when she came up in conversation said all Ava needed to know. The girl had disappeared right after the accident, not even bothering to attend the funeral according to Mary, and with the estate left unsettled it had been decided for the property to fall to the care of the mayor.
Ava sighed, her hands shifting up from where they had been pressed into her eyes to run her fingers through her long mane of blonde hair, blunt finger tips scratching at her scalp as they went. She had to get up. She needed a shower, and to put on clothes that weren’t covered in sweat and grease, and she needed to make her weekly round of house calls. She did that now, made house calls. And she also knew she had to leave Mrs. Kreski for last since she would insist Ava stay for dinner.
She had just braced her hands on the wooden plank behind her to help lever herself up when a voice caught her off guard, causing her to plop back unceremoniously to the splintered step.
“Excuse me.”
Ava’s head snapped up, A woman clad in a worn green army jacket, ripped jeans- not in the fashionable way- and black combat boots hovered at the end of the walkway where the gate used to be, one hand gripping the chipped white railing of the picket fence. Wavy, frizzed blonde hair framed her face and Ava noted the dark smudges under sunken eyes.
“Can I help you?”
She wasn’t a patient, at least not one that Ava had seen before, and by this point she could probably count everyone she had not met in the town on one hand.
“You live here?”
“For the moment,” Ava’s eyes narrowed as one of the combat boots scuffed at the small white pebbles that littered the ground between the pavers. “I have a deal with the mayor.”
Ava wasn’t sure why she had felt the need to add the last part, but the woman just nodded and took a hesitant step closer, hands shoved in her back pockets. “I was wondering if I could have a look around. I won’t touch anything I swear.” She continued quickly when Ava started to shake her head. “I just- I used to live here, and I need to see it again. It’s been a while.”
Ava’s mouth fell open and her eyes darted down to the small red handprints by her hip, the “S.L.” scribbled in the same red paint underneath them.
“Those are mine.”
No. Her luck couldn’t possibly be that bad, Ava thought as she stared at the shadow of a woman standing in front of her, looking a confusing combination of confident and lost. Just what she needed- Sara Lance.
Ava hesitated, her eyes examining the woman in front of her. She wanted to say no. There was no need to have a stranger, especially one who looked like she had woken up with a bottle of booze in her hand wandering around her house. But technically it wasn’t hers, was it? It was Sara’s, and she was just living there. Squatting? Was she technically a squatter? Ava ran her hands through her hair again, giving her head a mental shake. She did not need to be spiraling down that rabbit hole, especially now.
Sara scuffed the sole of her boot on the gravel again at Ava’s lack of a reply and reached into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a blunt and a lighter.
“What are you doing?”
Sara shrugged, bringing the joint to her lips and lighting it. “Waiting.”
“That’s illegal, you know.”
“If we desire respect for the law, we must first make the law respectable.” Sara drawled through a cloud of smoke and Ava coughed as she startled at the reply.
“Fine,” she said, against her better judgement, waving one hand to clear the air in front of her face. She stood, adjusting her clothes in a failing attempt to regain any amount of composure. The faster she did this, the faster Sara could be on her way back to whatever hovel she had crawled out of. “Come on. But you’re leaving that here.”
She pointed at the joint, eyes narrow, and Sara just shrugged, taking one more drag before leaving it smoldering on the porch railing.
“Aren’t you going to ask me who I am?”
“No need.”
“Ah, so word has gotten around I see.” Sara replied and Ava looked back over her shoulder in time to see a cocky smirk. “All good things, I hope. I take it Mary is still Mayor?” Sara continued, unfazed as she glanced around the porch, walking backward at a lazy pace with her hands jammed in her pockets. She glanced over just in time to catch Ava’s inquisitive look. Sara shrugged again, the smirk still playing at her lips as she turned to face the front door. “Some things never change.”
Ava opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open wide in a silent invitation for Sara to follow. The mood shifted as Sara stepped over the threshold, the smirk falling into a frown and Ava hovered behind her as she turned the corner into the living room. The house was sparsely furnished at best. A sagging floral couch in the living room sat facing an oversized television. The stand of the lamp in the corner swayed in the force of the breeze from the fan. The wooden floor was warped in places from years of humid stagnant air.
“I haven’t had any time to decorate. There was no furniture when I moved in, so I just bought what I needed second hand. It’s just temporary so…” Ava trailed off in her rambling when she noticed there was no one beside her. Turning in the middle of the room she found Sara rooted in the same spot by the front door. “You okay?”
The other woman’s eyes trailed along the ceiling, and Ava lifted hers to follow suit, taking in the series of cracks that spider webbed across the plaster, interrupted by the occasional water stain. Damn bathroom sinks. When her eyes finally flitted back down the space in front of the doorway was empty. Ava heard a floorboard squeak in the kitchen and hurried around the corner in pursuit of her mostly unwelcome guest.
Sara’s fingers fidgeted as she wandered through the space, touching things. They trailed along the counter top, tapping a random magnet on the refrigerator door. Finger nails tapped a staccato beat along the metal lip of the sink. The kitchen was probably the best kept room in the house. The worn Formica countertops were lined with shining new small appliances and random products of everyday use. Sara’s hand trailed over the pile of fruit in the fruit bowl and Ava rolled her eyes as the other woman grabbed an apple and started tossing it idly from hand to hand, but still managed to note a small hitch in the other woman’s gait.
Ava managed to quell her petty side and stopped herself from reaching out and snatching the apple back midair. The smaller woman looked like she could use some nutrition anyway. Ava turned her attention to studying Sara’s face as the other woman turned the corner at the other end of the galley style kitchen and headed back to the living room and up the stairs. Her expression was passive for the most part, save for a small furrowing of her brow and pinch of her lips. Ava followed her up the stairs, hesitating for a couple beats on the bottom step so as not to crowd her on the way up.
Sara hesitated at the first door on the left, the apple stilling its relentless round trip from palm to palm, and she lifted shaking fingers to the faded scattering of stickers on the door. Her hand stopped a millimeter away from contact and pulled back as if it had been burned. She glanced back at Ava who was hovering at the top of the staircase and Ava could have sworn she saw a flash of emotion in the other woman’s eyes. Not anger, not quite sadness. Guilt?
Sara turned away again and continued down the hallway to the little bedroom in the back, the one Ava had intended on turning into an office eventually, if she ended up staying anyway. Sara pushed open the door and the stench of stagnant house permeated stronger than it had in the other rooms since it hadn’t been opened in months. Ava grimaced at the smell but leaned against the doorway watching with her arms crossed over her chest. The corner of Sara’s lips quirked up as she walked through the space and took in the room. There was nothing special about it. Currently, it was bare, with worn wooden floor boards that creaked and pale pink walls. Then it dawned on her- this had been Sara’s room.
Sara finished a full turn around the small room before pausing at the closet. She pulled open the door and crouched down, feeling around under one of the wooden shelves. With a quiet exclamation of triumph, she pulled out a small, flat metal box and brushed her fingers over the top, dusting it off.
Spinning around Sara pocketed the box and looked up at Ava. “Thanks for the tour down memory lane.”
With another smirk, she shot off a two-fingered salute and brushed past Ava back into the hall and jogged down the stairs and out the front door.
Ava rushed down the stairs as the front door slammed shut and yanked it open, running out onto the front porch in time to see Sara’s slim form rounding the corner down the block out of sight and seemingly out of her life.
“What the hell was that?”