in the Garden

after the last scene, Marc and Dakota spend a day in the loft of his barn, talking and watching the sun sink into the corn field. they have an absurdly long conversation, so i cut most of it out here. :) i didn't want to bore you with two romantic scenes in a row. a few important and/or interesting facts: Marc talks a lot about his brother Haden (who Dakota feels guilty for not asking about previously), we find out that Marc is twenty five (Dakota nearly chokes, since he looks so much younger), Dakota talks more about her inability to communicate successfully with men, etc. mostly all that fun, flirty small talk. :) so with all that out of the way, enjoy the next scene.

My shoelace slid beneath my sneaker and I fell forward, Marc catching me by the waist as I crashed into him. I landed with my back against the ladder, inches from his face once more. He grinned a little shyly. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he whispered. He was so beautiful, his eyes gleaming, his hands firmly on either side of my waist. I felt dizzy, my palms tingling. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to be brave. I lifted a shaking hand and brushed my fingers through his hair. I could feel his breath sliding against my skin. I stretched slowly up onto my tiptoes to move closer to him. He closed his eyes and leaned toward me. My heart jumped into my throat and my blood pumped thickly against my skin. He wasn't running. He wasn't jerking away in disgust. He wound his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a small red shape fall through the air. A moment later, another red ball blurred toward the ground, striking Marc on the shoulder. He pulled back and looked up just as many more streaks whizzed through the air and landed with a thud against the hay. One struck him across the face and he staggered back. A second later and the air was still again, twenty big red apples lay at our feet. Marc looked from the fruit up to the tree branches hanging down over the damaged roof above us. He picked one up, which only minutes ago had been tiny and green upon its stem. He looked at me, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"Dakota," he said, handing me the apple, "I believe this is yours."
Blood began to trickle down his face from a little cut on the bridge of his nose.
"You're bleeding," I choked, staring back at the apple. He lifted his hand to his face and took it away, examining the blood in his palm. He came forward and kissed me lightly on the forehead. "Please," he begged into my ear, "don't move." He turned and jogged toward the house. I turned the apple in my hand, my shocked face reflected in its gleaming surface. It wasn't possible. I had seen the tiny green bulbs on the branches with my own eyes. They could not have grown and ripened this quickly. But was it any more possible that I could have done it? Suddenly, I remembered standing at the porch of the shack, a branch of ivy climbing up my hand while I watched Marc bathing in the river. Had I done this? It had been the same feeling, the same tingling in my palms and clearing of my thoughts, the same cooling in my veins. The ivy winding through my fingers, flowers yawning to the sky. The apples swelling and blooming red as Marc held me close against his chest. The voices on the wind when the braches swayed in the breeze. It was me.
Unbelievably, I wanted to cry. I had been waiting and wondering this whole time if I could also possess some power, some element of protection for my new family. Peter's control of water, Haylee's hold over fire, Marc with his speed and uncanny ability to protect us from the shadow people. It turned out that I did have some ability, and it was completely useless. I could... grow things. I laughed out loud and threw the apple roughly to the ground. I was more useless now than I had ever been before. How could I protect them the way they had protected me? What could I offer in payment for the burden that I had been? I could give them apples. It wasn't fair.
I stumbled through the opening of the barn and fell to my knees in the grass. I gazed at the house in the distance, the place that was my home. I could almost see Haylee cleaning Marc's cut while Peter studied various myths. These people were my family and I was too ashamed to face them. If I could control the growth of plants, I willed the grass beneath me to open up and suck me into the earth. Nothing happened. The corn rustled behind me in the breeze and I defied it, hating every element of nature.
A few minutes later, Marc came through the back door with an icepack in his hand. I looked up and saw him halt where he was standing, staring off behind me. As I watched, the color drained from his face and he clenched his fists. The ice pack flickered and disappeared. “Dakota,” he said, his voice low, “don’t move.” He took a step toward me and stopped again. Slowly, I turned my head to look behind me. There, standing twenty feet away at the edge of the corn field, the shadow woman stood gazing hungrily at me, her red eyes burning, a sharp wooden dagger clutched in her pale hands. My heart stopped and then accelerated into my throat, desperate to keep beating. I heard Marc step closer behind me. As he did, the woman stepped forward too. Marc leapt forward, yanking me from the ground and pulling me behind his back. The woman jumped forward, shimmering in the falling sun, only ten feet away.
It happened in one breath. Marc lunged toward her, arms extended with his palms out in front of him, as if to push her away. She kicked off from the ground and flew at him. They met in midair, the heal of his hands colliding with a thud against her chest. They flickered and were gone. I screamed, rushing forward and raked the yard and field for them to reappear, but all was quiet. I collapsed to the ground, calling out for what felt like hours. Finally, I felt footsteps behind me and was lifted from the ground. Peter and Haylee were dragging me toward the house. I couldn't go, I had to wait here. Marc would come back. Any moment he would reappear, brushing his fingers through his hair, smiling at me. I couldn't leave. I clawed at the ground, pulling myself away from their grasps. On every spot of earth that my hands touched, the grass withered and turned brown. Peter's arms tightened around my waist. A moment later, everything was going dark, and I knew that I was fainting. I had enough consciousness left to reflect on how useless I was, and then the darkness closed above me.