Summary: She can't help but think that maybe, it was her fault. Major spoilers for volume 2, issues 17 and 18.
Disclaimer: I don't own Runaways.
Sitting in front of a picture of Gert always helped Molly think. Gert always inspired her, and it seemed the trend continued even after the older girl had died. Molly would sit there, gazing at the photo, and talk as if Gert was really listening- which, Molly though, she could be. She liked to think Gert was watching over them, even now.
Talking to the photo helped Molly work through things she didn't want to talk to the rest of the team about. And the issue on her mind now was definitely one she'd prefer to keep to herself.
"Hey, Gert," she said, sitting down. Sorting through her words, Molly cleared her throat. "I- I'm sorry. Really sorry, Gert. For everything." Sighing, she continued. "I'm sorry I always acted like a baby, and I'm sorry for always getting in the way. And I guess I'm sorry for always hanging around you, but I really looked up to you, Gert. I still do." She paused to wipe a tear she barely noticed. "But mostly, I'm sorry you had to come rescue me. Because if you hadn't, I bet you'd still be here, and you'd say how weird I was for talking to a picture."
Molly remembered that day better than almost anything else in her whole life. The day Geoffrey Wilder and the new Pride kidnapped her, tied her up and held her hostage, and tried to tell her that her friends were evil. The day she watched Nico get shot, only it wasn't Nico, and the day they almost left Xavin in the fire. The day Gert died.
"I should've been stronger," she continued. "I shouldn't have let them take me. 'Cause then we'd all be here, and Chase wouldn't be so mopey, and everything would be okay."
The whole team dynamic had changed without Gert there. Everyone seemed to blame themselves, mostly Chase, but Molly couldn't help but think they were wrong- if she hadn't gotten captured, she wouldn't have had to be rescued, so Chase wouldn't have run in to the fire, and Gert wouldn't have followed. If she hadn't followed she never would've been stabbed, so she wouldn't have died. 11-year-old logic.
"Even Old Lace misses you. She moves really slow and she always looks sad. Nothing's the same." She paused for a breath and went on. "But… I think we're going to be okay. Because we're a team, so… we're all in this together, right? It's not the same without you, Gert, but maybe someday I can be as cool as you." Molly smiled. "I'll try to be strong, Gert. For everyone."
"Mol! Come here for a sec!"
"Gotta go. Vic's calling me." She stood and dusted herself off. "Thanks, Gert. Coming, Vic!" And she bounded away, feeling much better.
And somewhere, Gert smiled.
END