Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Danny POV
Dear Sebastian,
I have found something wonderful here! I know the young Master would love this place - oh and Finnian, too! I miss you but I am trying not to think about that too much. I know you understand, my love.
I had landed in America a week after I left England. I had gotten a bit sick the way over, and had to find a dark alley and a questionable man, to feel better. The journey out of New York, which had become a sprawling, bustling city, with woman and men walking all over and horses and automobiles sharing the same space, had astonished me at first, but so did the change of London in my time there. I had found my way to my home state of Connecticut, not very far from New York City, via the new train and the kindness of a man who was heading further north, inland. I had graciously taken my leave, now only carrying a carpet bag full of my belongings, and had set out for somewhere remote, where I could get lost into nature.
The tall trees and open fields, all slowly submitting to the oncoming winter, made me long for the days of when I went sledding and sat by the fire, thawing from a snowball fight. We had wonderful times even when we were not working. I got lost on the side paths, and found a small crook in the road oddly familiar. The hanging sign was lost in the vines, still clinging to life, and I brushed them aside and my heart started to beat faster.
"Easton. Oh… Easton!" I ran down the frozen road, now wider, now the memories rushing back. I ran by a small house, and another, and a whole village had sprung into a town. I walked by the moonlight in awe of the town that I had brought the farm's produce to, our apples and baked goods. We would trade in the small store that still sat by the park, Daniel and I would attend school in the now post office. I bit my lip. Could it be? Could it still….
I ran out of town and down a road, a small road, a road that became a path, and I found the small rusted gate, hanging by its side, almost fallen off. I gently pushed it and set foot on the land that had once been my families. I fell on my knees and I sobbed. I was home, I was really home.
The moonlight guided my way to the small path that wound along the stone wall. Some of the trees were bare, skeletons against the sky, and a few remained healthy, fruit bearing. The scattered apples, rotting and forgotten by wild animals, or ready to be used for the winter, were scattered about. I walked between them, my fingers touching the bark, and I looked at the dead trees. I paused; I was in the East Garden, as my Mama would say. These trees were the best apple trees we had. Past the hill, a small one, was where the grove of grapes grew, and the small patch of vegetables, and the oaks, the tall oak trees. The trees that sheltered my family home.
I pulled up as I came upon the trees. There were markers, markers that I didn't want to see. Markers of my Mama, Papa… and Daniel. Alyse and Rose where next, and I clung to the stones, tracing their names, remembering their smiles as I had set out to Redding, to buy some wool so we could make new sweaters over the oncoming winter. November started mild, and I had enjoyed the walk, the leaves turning in the wind, as my family burned alive. I sobbed now, as I had then, my fingers clutching to the rough stones, and at the ground, below me, held their bodies, their remains, I remembered. Or perhaps nothing, the stones were all there to mark that my family had been. My family, the last one in four generations of Hydes' on the same land, tending to the same traditions. And now… I looked over to the stone beside my brothers, wholly forgetting it as I searched and wept for my sisters. My name was in stone.
Daniella Hyde. November 1860. I had a marker. I had a death day. I couldn't contain the sobs and the wail as it tore through me. I became black and inky, my Demonic body taking form as I couldn't deal with the pain. I floated on the clouds for a while, watching the sunrise, and I reformed, reoriented myself. No one was on the land, as I walked around. The old home, a outline of what was, and the small shed, was all gone. I walked around the outline, and marveled at the only live thing that was in the bones of the remaining stones. One hearty, live, apple tree. I could start again, I could become a new creature again.
It took two weeks to build the small cottage, away from the one I had grown up in. It took a while as I set about chopping wood and manipulating elements to form the stones, trying to focus and not have my mind wonder as I built a quaint home for myself. It would do until Sebastian came for me. I paused as I hung the door, shoving my sleeves up as walked into the room. I felt the sizzle of a portal opening and my heart stilled. Could I have a return already?
I stepped out of the cottage and looked toward the small hill that wound around the grove I had once hidden in, and found the ground scorched. I frowned as I bend down and touched the newly frozen ground. A heat remained and I looked around. No one was here, but something was. I stood up and peered into the pile of fallen trees I had yet to chop, and saw movement. I lept over the trees, and struck the movement - only to pull out a rather scared looking Reaper. He blinked and shrunk back even as my hand gripped his neck a bit harder. I pulled him closer and hissed.
"What are you doing here?"
"I… I … I could ask the same you… of you, ma'am?" he said, his voice trembling even as I put him down. He stood a good half a foot lower than me.
"This was my home," I said simply. "I was away for awhile, and I am intending to come back and stay."
"Have you registered? Are you British? How can you prove this?"
I looked at him and shook my head. "I have no ideas what you are talking about." I took a step back. "Where is the nearest Reaper office?"
He now looked terrified and I forgot all he saw was that there was a Demon before him. I couldn't really tell him I was an ex-Reaper - it was already a big risk for William to have sent my papers down, and I had lived through the Birthing, from what the Undertaker had said one time. "Look, I am Daniella Hyde, this was my family orchard, and I can't prove that because I have been away for 50 years." I smiled and tried to look sweet and innocent - which I was, but wasn't feeling much of as he continued to eye me. "And as for British, no, I am not. I have been in England for that time, and guess I have adapted."
"What's your Classification?" he asked, pushing his glasses up and flipping his book open. Ah, a William. I smiled and eyed him. At least these were questions I could answer.
"I'm a Class S, Demon, Born, less than a year."
He stilled and looked up at me. "Born? You… but you are a Class S!"
"Yes, well… some things I did while I was a Human were horrid. Ah - not that I am here to repeat them! Please, don't put that in your Report. I left England for… peace. I want peace. I will not make Contracts, Feed unnecessarily, and I would have tagged myself if I had known where the Reaper Office was." He eyed me and put his pen away. I smiled softly and shrugged. "I had a good friend in England who was a Reaper. He was… understanding."
The Reaper once more looked around and took me in. "Well, Ms. Hyde, I see you are indeed alone. And you seem to be tending to the land. I'll put these in a note on your file and… ah, please don't interfere in town Reapings."
"I can do that," I said. "I am going to be interacting with the town though. My orchard, I'm going to be selling apples and such. I really don't want Humans around me all the time, some bad memories I am working on," I added, nodding as I got lost in the memory of the young Master's look as we drove away from the Manor.
"You may proceed," the Reaper said at last and walked away, making another Portal and left me alone once more.
I walked back to my cottage, pulling my wool shawl around me. How times had changed! A Demon Detection Department in America! I smiled; if all Demon taggings had been so easy. I struck a match and lit the small candle on my table, and brushed my hand over it, making it rise and fall. I tipped the candle over, the wax and flame settling into my hand, and I lit the wood in the fireplace. Pulling a piece of paper from the small table beside me, I settled to write a long letter to Sebastian. I waited to feel a Portal open for the next week after sending the letter off, and found myself standing beside my own grave, looking like a statue, waiting to come alive.