Page 58 of Small Sacrifices

Normally, Reid hates situations like these. But this entire thing is out of control anyway, so what the hell? He nods. And then he considers for a moment. "Do you think we could drive by the school at some point? I'd really like to see it."

It feels like more of a need than a want. Not that it's a problem. Everett, apparently, has already scoped out when they can drive by the school without interfering with the children's schooling. Just the knowledge that classes are still taking place there is nauseating.

Until then, Everett has a few places he wants to show him. He almost drags Reid out of the car in his hurry to get started. Only when they get out of the empty side street they parked in and enter a busier area does he let go of Reid's wrist. It leaves Reid's hand feeling cold.

Looking around himself, Reid doesn't quite understand why Everett would think it'd be a good idea to go somewhere that's this busy this early in the day. Most of the little shops are still closed, the bistro tables and chairs collapsed and padlocked. But there are people everywhere. His confusion only grows as he catches sight of the town hall, where even more people are milling around, weaving between cars and broadcast vehicles.

"Should we be here?" he asks.

Everett turns around to face him but doesn't stop walking. "Nope. But we're just passing through."

"What if someone recognizes you?"

That gets him an eye roll. "People usually don’t. One benefit of not being the same ethnicity as my father is that no one looks at me and seeshim.I'm not blond enough."

Oh. Reid doesn't know what to say to that. But he doesn't need to. Soon enough, they're at Everett's first destination.Which is, as it turns out, the preserved home of Severin Archibald—resident civil rights treasure of centuries past.

The house has been turned into a little museum, maintained by one of the Archibald's descendants. He's a rotund little man wearing colorful tweed who knows Everett by name and hugs him before even looking at Reid.

"And who's this? A... friend?"

Everett barely answers before he's dragging Reid inside. By the hand this time. Not that Reid pays too much attention to that. Just a normal amount, really. The man follows them at a leisurely pace. He keeps himself occupied while they look around the rooms, and Reid reads all the displays.

Only when he gets the impression that Reid has read his fill does he start talking. About "dear old Severin" and his immaculate handwriting, about some new letters he's just found that are "deliciously pornographic" and therefore have to be kept away from prying eyes.

The ladder he climbs wobbles dangerously as he tries to retrieve the box with the spicy love letters from the top shelf, but he only laughs.

And pornographic they are, indeed. Despite the old-timey language, Reid finds quite a few terms that would have to be bleeped out on daytime television. Really, a few words shouldn't bring heat to his face like this. But Reid isn't used to reading things like these letters. He's already halfway through a very detailed fantasy dear Mr. Archibald had about fellating his partner when he realizes… oh. This isn't very straight.

Next to him, Everett chuckles. "You wanna know the best thing about this?"

Reid wants to say something, ask a question, anything. But his throat is bone dry so he just manages a nod.

"There are so many letters like this one. Horny like no one's business. And my father keeps telling everyone that dear Severinhere is his biggest role model because of how liberal he was for the time he lived in. He has no idea."

It feels wrong to laugh, but Reid can't help it. He can see it, now, why Everett likes this place so much. They stay for a bit longer. In the end, Archie almost throws them out.

"Get your man something to eat, Ev. He looks unsteady."

Dark eyes settle on Reid, distressed. Reid can only shake his head. He always looks unsteady, that's just him. It's not bad yet. But...

"I could eat," he says.

That launches Everett into action. Again, Reid is dragged—this time, sadly, by the wrist—to a little Mexican restaurant in one of the side streets. Here, again, he's greeted by name and asked if he wants "his usual."

They take their lunch to go and eat it in a park, sitting under a tree. Well, Reid is sitting under a tree. Everett is sittinginthe tree. Apparently, he's missed it. If Reid were more confident in his climbing skills or general physical fitness, he would have joined him up there. It must be nice, peaceful. After he's finished eating, Everett just sits there for a while, his head leaned back against the dry bark and looking up into the canopy. Something in Reid itches to reach out to him.

After their meal, Everett seems a lot more settled. When he shows Reid the house he grew up in, close to the town center and so modern it looks sterile, he just leans back against the fence and watches Reid take it all in with a little smile. At the bakery they visit afterwards, he doesn't insist that Reid needs to eat a donut, even though he looks like he might want to.

Some time around four p.m., Officer Holland picks them up again to drive them to the school. They spend the car ride in companionable silence. Reid can only marvel at how easy this all feels. It feels like someone finally understands him. If only he could be sure this feeling could be trusted.

At some point, Reid realizes that they're barely passing any houses anymore.

"Are you sure we're going to the right place?" he asks.

Officer Holland huffs. "Yeah. For a school, it's quite out of the way. Can't say I'm mad about it, though. Considering."

Considering everything, it's alarming that there are still other houses in sight when they pull up to the school. Even if they're sparse. The only thing more alarming is what it looks like. Because the ground is just bare.

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