Chapter Text
the bus to pelican town is empty. juniper is mostly relieved about that, because the driver is kind enough to pull over every time she needs to throw up. which is often. it turned an hour’s trip into almost three hours, but the bus driver was so kind about it that juniper almost cried. she’d watched the scenery change through the window, going from the bustling city to the empty mountains of the surrounding area as they headed further south, to the coast. the road is winding and bumpy, as expected from a mountainous area, and it pokes at her nausea with a sort of excited cruelty. still, in a moment of respite, juniper leans her head against the window and closes her eyes, the cool glass easing her nerves.
going home is terrifying. she feels like she’s missing something, especially without duck by her side, and juniper remembers the first time they’d made this journey the other way. she’d been fifteen, duck thirteen, and she recalls holding duck’s shaking body. she’s not sure if it was relief or anxiety on her sister’s side, but juniper’s own tears had been caused by the feeling of abandonment from their father. she’d always cared too much.
leaving duck in zuzu had been hard. she hadn’t wanted to come with juniper, thought it was honestly a terrible idea. juniper had gone anyway, with a sizable guilt weighing on her. she was the older one. she was meant to look after them both, and here she was, leaving duck behind. what a terrible sister she is.
juniper must fall asleep at some point, because when she opens her eyes the driver is crouched in front of her and they seem to be parked beside another, though much more rundown, bus.
“miss elise? we’re here.” his voice is gentle, and juniper nods.
“thank you, sir,” she murmurs, breathing out a heavy sigh.
“there’s somebody waiting for you,” he says, gesturing towards the window. juniper looks over to where he’s pointing, a slow smile tilting her lips as she realises who is stood there. swoopy fringe, messy ponytail, the same fluffy jacket she’s worn since juniper can remember. when robin notices juniper looking, she brightens and waves excitedly, so juniper says her goodbyes to the driver and steps off of the bus. robin pulls her into a hug immediately, and she sinks into the smell of wood and leather with a happy sigh.
“hi robin,” she says as the other pulls back, leaving her hands on juniper’s shoulders.
“look at you, juni. you’re so grown up. how long’s it been? ten years? that’s too long.”
“it has. i missed you so much, but after mum—” robin nods, silently cutting juniper off before she links their arms, leading her away from the bus stop.
“i know, sweetie. but you’re here now. i have to warn you, the farm is a mess . there’s not enough of us who are actually good at this kinda work, but i can come help for a couple days if you think that’ll be good. lewis is waiting at the cabin for us.”
“mr winthrop is still here?”
“and still mayor. not that any of us vote for him. it’s just that nobody else runs.”
“is he still…” juniper trails off, not wanting to be rude. robin looks over at her, a small smirk on her face.
“absolutely useless? of course he is. that’s just the way lewis is, i think. we’ve had a few new people move in since you’ve been gone.”
“anyone interesting?” there’s one person juniper actually wants to ask about, but she figures she’ll hear what robin has to say first. the walk to the farm really isn’t long, so robin stops them just outside the walkway as she seems to think.
“jodi has another kid, vincent. maybe two years after you left? shane moved back in about six years ago with his best friend’s kid. the parents died in an accident but marnie’s taken in both of them. a lady called leah moved into your mum's old house, and a man called elliott moved into that old cabin on the beach.” the old cabin. that used to be where… juniper’s mind immediately goes to the worst, and robin must see it on her face because she suddenly gets very serious. that just makes it worse. juniper’s breath catches in her throat, her heart beating faster.
did pam finally go too far? that cabin used to be where juniper and penny would hide out when pam or juniper’s dad were getting too hostile. she can’t remember how many times she and penny would curl up in the corner of the only room, holding each other’s hands. they said they were going to move into that cabin when they were older, and then juniper left. penny promised she’d still move into that cabin. penny promised she’d get out of her trailer.
she can’t stand the idea of being here without penny. she was never meant to be without penny, and then she left . she left penny here with her mother and now juniper was going to pay the price for it, wasn’t she. it was her fault. she did this. her heart is going too fast, her breathing too, and robin’s roughened hands settle on juniper’s cheeks. she breathes in deeply and slowly, juniper attempting to copy her. the thoughts of having lost penny are too much, though, and she loses the sound of robin’s careful breaths as her vision blurs with tears.
robin says something, she can see her mouth moving, but juniper can’t hear her. her ears are ringing, her chest tightening, and she thinks she may only be standing because robin is holding her. pelican town without penny, that shouldn’t be a thing, that shouldn’t exist. the world can’t exist without penny. this can’t be happening. it can’t. for the first time since she got off the bus, juniper thinks she might throw up.
“juniper!” robin’s voice cuts through the ringing and juniper looks to her desperately, no longer in control of her own body.
“penny,” she gasps out, and robin shakes her head.
“penny is alive , juniper. she’s still here and she’s alive .”
she’s alive. penny’s alive. juniper is flooded with such relief that her knees give out and robin ends up following her to the floor. she just wraps her arms around the younger woman, rocking them slightly back and forth as she murmurs something soft and probably comforting that juniper cannot hear through her tears and the mantra circling through her mind of ‘she’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive’.
“juniper? we're going to leave you to it now, okay? if you need me, you come get me. i don't care what time it is.” juniper just nods, watching robin pull lewis away before she turns to look at the farm. it's… a mess. there's rocks, logs, trees everywhere . she remembers when her nana’s farm had thrived, with animals and crops everywhere. and now… disarray.
maybe she should go into town. meet everyone. again.
the thought makes her shudder. maybe not today. she knows where nana’s spare tools are kept, so maybe she'll start clearing some of this space instead.
that feels like a good plan. juniper moves over to the porch outside the house and kneels down in front of the log storage. she reaches in between the end slats (it felt smaller now. her hands were a little bigger.) and pulls one up. there. spare tools. perfect. she straightens after she's pulled them out, placing her hands on her hips as she stares at the work ahead of her.
now just to work until she's exhausted and has forgotten everything that's happened lately.
it's six in the morning. honestly, that's a pretty late start for juniper and she's relatively grateful for it. she hums to herself as she gets ready for the day, tying the bow back around her head to hide what lay there.
mayor lewis had given her a little journal, where he'd written what he thought would be good starting tasks for her.
plant fifteen parsnips . oh, that's great. she needs to go to the shop. does pierre still run it? probably.
(re)introduce yourself to everyone. he's left her a little checklist with everyone's names. his and robin’s are marked off, and juniper reads through it to see who she recognises. the yobasdóttir sisters are still here. juniper remembers evenings sat with emily, crystals surrounding them as emily mumbles under her breath, and spending summers on the beach with haley, even if juniper thought it was way too hot and would hide in the cabin.
it’ll be nice to see them both.
maybe she should focus the list more on people she doesn’t know, so that’s… elliott blake, harvey roffe, jasmine cotterill (she guesses that must be the kid marnie is looking after, given that’s marnie’s surname), leah mackintosh, and vincent esmond. so that’s the guy on the beach, shane’s kid, the lady in her mum’s house, and jodi’s new kid.
juniper glances at the clock, eyes widening slightly as she realises she’s spent the last twenty minutes going through this list and trying to remember where everyone lived. she definitely needs to get a move on, especially if she wants to get things done on the farm today.
she makes her way outside, smiling slightly at the quiet darkness that awaited her. if her childhood memories of spending time with nana were serving her correctly, sunrise wouldn’t be coming until almost seven. good. juniper had already cleared a little five by three plot section the night beforehand, setting aside planks of wood and chunks of stone for the future. she’d collected some seeds from the grass tufts her scythe had cut (how bits of grass and plant gave her actual seeds, she’d never known), but her nana’s voice telling her they were unpredictable rings in her mind, and juniper had found herself putting them away.
she goes to step across her porch, but her foot nudges a small box. it holds a packet of fifteen parsnip seeds and a note from lewis.
just something to get you started, juni.
that’ll save her some money from pierre’s, at least until she can do some foraging and gather some profit. she hadn’t actually tilled the ground last night, aware that sometimes spaces wouldn’t stay prepared overnight unless they had fertiliser, and even then the chances were probably only a bit more than half. she had filled her watering can though, clearing a path to the pond as she went. there’s one quite close to the cabin, which is good. she’ll keep that in mind for when she tries to reorganise the farm.
it’s nice to be back. she’d missed the gentle monotony of poking seeds into the dirt with her fingers, of watering the plot. the promise of later fulfillment as the sun rises above her. honestly, she’d missed it here.
the town is exactly as she’d remembered when she enters it three hours later, basket of foraged goods on her arm. well, it’s sort of like she remembers it. it’s a bit more rundown, but it seemed not to have changed much. someone brushes past her, blonde curls hitting juniper in the face, and she smiles as she recognises haley.
“haley!” she calls, but the other doesn’t stop, merely holding up a hand.
“don’t talk to me, stranger.” oh. that was disheartening. juniper’s shoulders slump slightly, but she shakes it off. maybe haley was just mad that they hadn’t really spoken since she and duck had left. still, it hurt a little. it’s fine, she’ll find some daffodils for haley later.
“juniper! how was your night on the farm?” lewis is stood beside the hospital (though it can hardly be called that), doing his usual, rather useless, watch of the town. it’s a little unsettling, but juniper smiles as she approaches him anyway.
“odd,” she says simply, “it’s strange to be back, but it’s also nice. i forgot how much i love farming.” it’s especially strange in that juniper hasn’t felt unwell since she’s been back here. maybe it was just all the pollution over in zuzu.
“well, we’re glad to have you back. any chance deidre may visit soon? we miss her, the town isn’t the same without either of you.” juniper smiles slightly, shrugging.
“i don’t know, mayor winthrop. honestly, she didn’t think it was the best decision for me to come back. i understand, but i feel like i had to.”
“i’ve told you, juniper,” lewis says, chuckling, “please just call me lewis. mayor winthrop makes me feel old. i can see where deidre is coming from, though. all the same, do write her and tell her we’d love to have her here.” juniper nods, and she’s about to answer when lewis looks over her shoulder and smiles.
“i ought to leave you be,” he says, “there’s somebody here who probably wants to see you.”
juniper frowns, turning away from lewis and searching for whoever was waiting for her. she has no idea who it could be, really. until—
“penny?”