The World We See

Humidity. It's a stifling thing that Beckett is not used to. In the Safeguard, the air is normally perfect. Easy to breathe, a nice temperature--and it doesn't feel like one is wading through a swamp as they walk on an open field.

The sun is blazing down, and Beckett pauses to take a breath of that ever-so-strange humidity. It's not comfortable, but it's part of the world.

Being added to The Expedition was a dream come true for Beckett--it was a dream most had. It took years of training, preparing to go out into the world. The Safeguards Council knew we would need to re-enter the world soon. After a couple of centuries isolated, resources were expected to dwindle.

"Beckett!" Mollie's voice is clear outside of her suit. Back when they first stepped out, over a year ago, they took every precaution to reduce contact with the physical world.

Beckett raises their gaze from the flower they had stopped to feel, meeting eyes with Mollie.

"Coming!"

Oh, what an adventure it was. It had been a strange and terrifying year, introducing the team into the world little by little, to test it's survivability. In the end, it was safe. For the most part.

Beckett runs to catch up with Mollie, green and gold and blue dancing in their vision, the world a canvas splattered with color.

The team is scouting to set up a large perimeter for the outer establishment. Something that won't interact with the creatures that come out at night. A golden haze will soon be setting over the canopy of green, and the team of five slip into an old house that still stands, barely.

They had see it on the last patrol, knowing it was near the edge of what they had mapped for the perimeter. As the group settles in to the temporary shelter, the golden haze seeping through the windows--Beckett looks around.

The world is very different from inside the Safeguard: that's something everyone noticed easily about The Before. People could have things. Things that were useless, pointless, a 'waste of space'.

Beckett can see Mollie leaning back against one of the wooden walls near the small square window, closing her eyes for a brief while before the lookout begins. Beside her, Johnson is already setting up his scope, on the lookout. O'Hara is sharpening his knife, and Barrow is pulling apart and reloading her gun, practicing her timing.

The house is small, with four rooms and a tiny hallway connecting them. They sit in the living room, which connected at one point with a large door that is now a gaping space, into the dining room.

Slipping into the hallway, Beckett takes a look into the other rooms. Their eyes scan bedroom, but like the rest of the house, it's mostly deteriorated through time. Not much is left, but it seems not much was left behind in the first place.

Beckett freezes when opening the door to the final room, surprised at what they see.

It's...filled with things. Still unidentifiable in the dust and the approaching darkness--but things.

It's a small enough room that Beckett can look through most of it in quick time, before they have to go back to the others. It's one of the final drawers that delays them.

Inside, is a box. A beautiful box, ornate with swirls and what Beckett assumes were once bright colors. It has a little tarnished latch, clearly once gold in color, that keeps it shut--but it's not locked.

It's light, and surprisingly sturdy as Beckett lifts it out of the drawer an onto the windowsill.

It opens with a little snap, the latch smacking against the wood of the box, causing it to splinter. Beckett opens the box.

Paper. Beckett lifts one of the pages. It's still legible. The box had done a good job at preserving it.

Dear Jenevieve,

I will be back, I promise you. The world is not as dangerous as they say--I'm sure of it.

Keep this to think of me while I'm gone. I will see you soon.

Love, Markus.

What an odd thing, to leave behind a box. Unless it was the letter Markus referred to.

Beckett picks up the next piece of paper, when a soft clink takes them off guard. They jump, eyes instantly on the source of the noise.

At their feet, a small object that had come off the chain when it hit the floor.

Beckett picks it up.

"Beckett! It's getting dark!"

Shit.

"Coming!"

Beckett slips the object back into the box and places everything neatly back in the drawer before going to meet the others.

"What is going on with you today?" Mollie asks, blonde hair now tied back in a ponytail as she preps her gear. "You're distracted."

"Just observing."

"Well stay present, we've got work to do."

--

When the morning comes around and everyone finishes their patrols, they tally up the creatures they had seen. O'Hara is drawing them, and they're scarily good. Or maybe they're just scary cause that's how they look. Big and grotesque, old and decaying, but with something agile about them. Not humanoid--beast. Whatever they are, there are theories of where they came from throughout the Safeguard. No one knows for sure. Not many have seen them--barely any of the Council have. The team is the only group who's gotten a good look and survived.

The other's fall asleep, dust dancing on the strings of sunlight streaming into the room. A breeze slips through the square hole framed in the wall where a few remaining shards of glass indicate the ghost of a window pane.

Beckett is tired, but their mind is active, and they slip quietly into the spare room once again.

Drawer, box, letters, object and chain.

Ah, A necklace.

Beckett had never seen a necklace, not in person. But Mollie and Beckett had seen one once in an old picture they found during one of their earlier patrols.

It's in the shape of a heart, not an anatomical heart, but one like Beckett would draw when they were little.

It's a tarnished silver, and Beckett finds themselves rubbing away the dirt and grease until they hear someone getting up from their rest.

It's quite beautiful.

Beckett slips the heart back onto the delicate chain, the loop so small it takes a few tries. Beckett smiles happily at their accomplishment. They raise it up to the window, an the untarnished parts wink and shine in the sun.

That's when they notice a latch.

The object is small, finicky, and much more difficult to get open than the box. So much so, that Beckett gets frustrated and puts the locket down before they decide to throw it out the window.

Instead, they lay it back down on the windowsill and pull another letter out of the box.

Denise,

I am not sure how long we will survive out here, but I am leaving you this incase the unthinkable happens and you find yourself without me in this world too soon. Your father gave it to me, telling me he would be back, and that the world isn’t as bad as people think. I’m inclined to believe he was wrong, as those were his final words to me. However, you are also a part of this world, and so was he. It can’t be all bad.

I hope you never have to read this, but if you do, know you are my entire world. I love you.

Mom.

Beckett swallows the lump in their throat.

Poor Jenevieve.

The next letter is more jarring to read than the others.

No one will read this. I don’t think so, at least

I’m sick, and I’m afraid. The others said they we're going after the beasts, but that was two days ago.

I miss mom.

If anyone does come across this, please put the necklace in the box, so I can be with them.

- Denise

Beckett swallows, and glances at the necklace. They pull out the final letter.

I am so sorry Denise. I would have taken you to see the world. I promise I will continue to tell you of it...We should have come back sooner. You’re with them now. I love you.

- Frankie

Beckett pieces the story together easily. They grab the locket once again and work on opening it, despite their fingertips pinching with effort of such focused force.

Click. The locket opens with such a sudden movement that Beckett is almost sure they broke it.

But then the sun shines on the words, and Beckett can feel tears in their eyes. A picture of a young woman and young man, their smiles bright. The picture is small, but the love pouring from them is overwhelming.

For my entire world.

Tears swell in Beckett's eyes. They hastily blink them away as the door opens.

“Hey, lunch is….you okay?” Mollies eyebrow raises in concern.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Beckett nods, making sure to keep eye contact.

“Have you gotten any rest? You know we’re going out further tonight. There's more for us to see.”

“I know. I’ll rest soon, I promise.”

Mollie nods uncertainly before closing the door behind her.

Beckett takes a deep breath and looks at their bag, leaning against the wall. It’s hidden in the shadow under the windowsill, the light barely missing it.

Beckett isn't allowed to bring these things from the world back into the Safeguard, there's no use to them. They can't waste space, time or energy on something that won't help their objectives.

But these things aren't useless. They aren't pointless. They're part of life, part of the world.

Beckett grabs their bag from the shadows and opens it, about to put the box and items in when they stop. There's something else.

A notebook that fills the bottom of the box, the name Frankie scrawled loosely across the front. To Denise,

The book isn't full, and Beckett scans through it quickly. The pages are all dated after Frankie's letter. After Denise had passed.

Frankie had wrote about their adventures of the world, their failures and triumphs. Their rare glances of the beasts.

It ends abruptly on a blank page, the last entry dated over a hundred and fifty years ago.

Conviction fills Beckett as they shove everything in their bag.

--

Two months later, as the Safeguard begins to bring people outside, Beckett and the others are assigned another task.

Go see what the rest of the world has to offer. Go further, explore, discover.

The sun is beating down, bold colors on a bright canvas, the others talking quietly as they eat lunch.

Beckett smiles at their friends, looking around for a moment before going back to their book.

"What are you writing?" O'Hara asks, and the others glance at Beckett.

"What we discover." Beckett shrugs. "What we see."

“You should add your drawings!” Johnson throws a stick at O'Hara, who whips it back. Mollie rolls her eyes.

“That would be nice.” Beckett goes back to the book, a smile on their face.

Dear Frankie and Denise, and whoever reads this next.

The world is huge, and we’ve barely just begun our travel.

Beckett feels the words flow easily from them, the air humid and sticky, and under their shirt...the heart locket cool against their chest.

FIN.