Name: auguris
'verse: The Underground
Story: October 1992, Coda
Colors: Dirt Brown 5. Fertile
Supplies and Styles: Canvas, Seed Beads, Oils (an endless nightmare)
Word Count: 1354
Rating: R, mainly for language
Summary: Marisa seeks help with Jacob’s ultimatum.

October 1992, Coda

Marisa waved from the front porch. Daniela waved back from Jacob's truck, her wide happy grin practically beaming. She loved the Compound. Training and teaching began in September, like a normal school, but students spent the week there. Jacob dropped her off Monday morning before work, and Marisa picked her up Friday afternoon.

The Compound billed itself as a private school, invitation only. Marissa wasn't sure how legal that was, but Texas let the Hunters get away with it. A number of Hunters became accredited teachers, and those folks were joined by spouses and aware outsiders to create one of the better schools in the country. Students often moved up to Ivy Leagues.

Marisa and Jacob hadn't been given that option. Part of a Sixth Generation, molding the next First Generation took highest priority. The best and strongest Hunters were chosen for this sacred duty, and the... less gifted were allowed to help the Family in other ways. Hunting, mainly, although some took on financial positions. Her cousin Margaret taught hand-to-hand in one of their schools up north.

But not Marisa. She got to be a Mommy. Yay.

Marisa returned inside once Jacob pulled away, snatched up her purse and keys, and hurried to her car. Her watch read just past seven. Jacob would head straight to work after dropping Dani off, and wouldn't be home until five or so. Later, if he decided to drown his sorrows. Barbara lived a good hour away, and Marisa owed her a just-because visit on top of today's business. She had plenty of time, but she needed to be safe.

She blared country-rock and drove with the windows down. She probably woke a few late sleepers; the idea made her grin. Their fault for being lazy.

*

Barbara's house sat at the end of a long private driveway, off of a long and empty road. Tall trees surrounded her property. The house itself was small, a single floor with a small basement. Living room, kitchen that doubled as a dining room, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Barb herself didn't need that second bedroom; it existed for Marisa's sake.

She turned off the engine and listened to it tick. She hadn't seen her best friend in... almost a year, now? They called each other monthly, but it wasn't the same.

Barb left the house to greet her. She wore a red flannel button-up, sleeves rolled back to reveal perfectly smooth skin the color of rich earth after a rainfall. She had straightened and slicked back her short black hair. Marisa fell into the offered embrace, relief washing over her.

Barb kissed both her cheeks and wrapped her arm around Marisa's waist, leading her inside. "It's been way too long, girl. How are you?"

"I've been better," Marisa muttered. Barb led her to the kitchen and sat her on a stool in front of the kitchen island. "I wish this was just a social call."

Barb shrugged as she poured two cups of steaming coffee. "Still a shit-ton of cream, no sugar?" Marisa nodded, and Barb finished with the coffee before asking, "What's wrong?"

"I need birth control." Marisa wrapped both hands around the warm mug. "The Family can't find out."

"So you came to the exile," Barb said with a chuckle. "Why don't you just tell what's-his-name you don't want any more kids?"

Marisa took several sips of coffee in silence. Barb put a hand on her arm, and that was all it took: Marisa spilled words and tears, told Barb everything. The argument, the drive, the cheating, the ultrasound, the ultimatum. Barb put her arm around Marisa's shoulders and hugged her close.

They sat in silence, Marisa sniffling and blowing her nose into the tissue Barb handed her. "That man," Barb finally said, "is a piece of shit."

"I cheated," Marisa said quietly, the fight drained out of her. Telling Barbara made her feel worse, not better. Having the whole story laid out like that, with a little perspective -- this was her fault. She'd done this to herself.

"That's grounds for a divorce, sure, but that doesn't give him the right to turn you into some broodmare! You can't spend the rest of your life pumping out babies just so he can have his little boy. He's taking advantage of your fuck-up in the worst way."

Marisa leaned into Barb, her head nestled in the other woman's shoulder. "The Arbiters would exile me. I'd never see Dani again."

"Or," Barb said, "you take Dani and run. Come up here, we'll take off and start over somewhere far from here. Hell, I can get us into Canada if you want. Mexico, too, but things are kind of crap down there right now. Give me enough time and I can get us into Europe. England, France, wherever."

Marisa shook her head. "I can't do that. They adore each other. And Dani and the baby won't get the training they need. I can't train young Hunters, and you wouldn't even want to."

Barb grunted. She ran her hand through Marisa's hair. "They've brainwashed you good. Why can't the little ones grow up like normal people?"

Marisa pulled away. "Because they're not normal people. We're not normal people. What happens if Dani gets into a fight at school and doesn't know to pull her punches? She could kill someone. Imagine being a teenage girl and killing your classmate over a boy. Or a girl," she added when Barb raised her brows. "Or imagine pulling some kid's arm out of their socket because you grabbed them too hard and didn't know any better. Or hurting your pet dog. Or--"

"Point made," Barb sighed. "So. Birth control. I can get you in touch with some people. How long do you plan on taking it?"

Marisa shrugged. "I'm not sure. I can't take any right now, obviously, but after the baby's born... at least a year. Let my body heal." She sipped her coffee; it was cool enough to chug, so she did. "And then pray to whatever god you believe in now that the first try is a boy."

Barb drank her own coffee. A tiny bit of cream, so much sugar it left sludge at the bottom of the mug. "There's a way to make sure it's a boy." She tapped her mug. "There will be a price to pay, to ensure that fate twists a certain way. You might not want to pay it."

"That... sounds like witchcraft." Marisa took a deep breath. "What the hell have you been doing up here?"

Barb snorted. "Witchcraft. We're born stronger, faster, smarter, and hotter than the rest of the human race. What do you call that?"

"A Divine Blessing," Marisa said. "A promise from Artemis, hundreds of years ago. A Goddess doesn't use witchcraft, she performs miracles."

"Goddamn, girl." Barb shook her head and downed the rest of her coffee. "Should have put liquor in this. Look, I'm not saying you should or shouldn't do anything. I'm just telling you it's an option. I know someone who knows someone. I can get you in touch with them. And the birth control lady. And a whole bunch of other shit that the Family hides from us." She took the empty coffee mugs and rinsed them in the sink. "I've made friends, Mari. That's all."

Marisa let out a huff. "Okay. I'm not... I'm not judging. What the Family did to you was fucking awful. I just... let's just start with the pill."

Barb pulled an address book from a kitchen drawer and copied a name and phone number onto two sticky-notes. "Here. This woman can get you the BC." She hesitated before handing Marisa the second slip. "This is the person who can help you with the other part. If you want."

Marisa took both slips and shoved them to the bottom of her purse. "Thank you, Barb. I owe you big time."

Barb grinned. "You don't owe me nothin'. Now that that's over with, tell me everything else. I want to know everything your kid has done."

Marisa grinned back.