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Marty's heart pounded, and every inch of his body ached. As he inhaled the smoke of his joint, wishing the drug to numb the pain, his attention was drawn to the woman at his side. The light in her eyes was fading; that light that put her above all the rest in his eyes. And that hurt more than the stab wound in his back.
Part of him, as the world crumbled around him, wanted to turn away. He didn't want Dana to see him cry. He didn't want to see her die.
But this was it. The end of the world.
"Marty."
Her voice was weak, but somehow she managed to push herself up against the vicious quaking. She angled herself towards him, and Marty automatically dropped the joint to help her. One arm went around her shoulders and the other went to push the blood-soaked hair from her temple. Dana's eyes were wide with terror, and desperation.
"Don't think of me as a complete bastard," he started without thinking, "but I always thought you were kinda foxy."
To his surprise, she laughed. It was choked and rough from the wounds on her throat. Marty bit back the tears that were threatening to spill. Her hand on his arm was slipping, and her breathing was shallow.
But then, against all odds, her arm was like a vice on his and she pulled him down to her lips. Hard. The next thing he knew he was tasting blood and dust and Dana.
Beyond the general shock of this woman kissing him, there was the fleeting thought of Wow. You should probably stop underestimating her.
It was sad and despairing, but Marty was shaking as he kissed her back as gently as he could. For a blissful moment, he realized that he was happy to die like this.
Light flooded the room, and something like wind tugged at their clothes.
This is it, Marty thought as the pain washed away. Dana had slid a grimy hand through his hair to keep him from pulling away.
But then there was nothing.
No, not like death nothing nothing. Like nothing changed.
He didn't want to pull away from Dana, even if they did end up in heaven, but curiosity was too much.
The first thing he realized was that the blood and bite marks had disappeared from Dana's body. And she was still breathing.
The second thing he noticed was that they were not alone.
YOUR PURE LOVE HAS BROKEN THE SPELL. THANK YOU, MARTIN MIKALSKI AND DANA POLK.
About a dozen giant dazzling gods stood before them, cracked chamber finally ceasing in its shaking. No longer wraithlike and menacing, they were bright and multi-colored. Like angels. Or something.
Marty's jaw dropped, his mind not completely processing the fact that he wasn't dead yet. On the contrary, all the dirt and gore from his hands—and clothes—was cleared off. Like magic.
"What?"
WE HAVE SLEPT FOR MILLENIA, HOPING THE DAY WOULD COME WHERE THE SPELL PLACED UPON US WOULD BE BROKEN BY TRUE LOVE'S KISS. AN EVIL WITCH HAD—
"I think we get the gist. You're saying, all of this, everything, the sacrifices—" Dana choked off, gaping in astonishment. "—would have ended if I had just laid one on this guy?"
BASICALLY.
"This is so much bullshit."
BULLSHIT? ONE WOULD THINK YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL, TINY HUMAN.
"After killing our friends?" Dana shouted. "Maiming us? Nearly destroying the world? Yeah, I think bullshit is the right word."
IT WAS JUST A BIT OF FUN, REALLY. OH, FINE, FINE. NO NEED TO GET HUFFY. THE OTHER HUMANS ARE RESTORED; ALIVE AND WELL. WE WILL SEND YOU BACK TO YOUR HOMES AND WE ANCIENTS WILL CONTINUE OUR GUARDIANSHIP OF EARTH.
Marty blinked.
"That's it?"
THAT'S IT.
"Oh."
Roughly five minutes later, they were teleported on the behest of the Ancient Ones back to Dana's townhome. Heart beating rapidly, still unsure if he should believe what had just occurred, Marty scanned the living room they had poofed into. Holden and Curt were sprawled on the couch, fast asleep. Dana moved first, slowly walking over to their friends.
"I wonder if they'll remember anything," she whispered. She stared at them as if trying to make sure they were real. Her hand reached out and brushed Curt's shirt. He shifted, huffing, but fell back to sleep.
Marty shivered. "I hope not."
They checked upstairs, and found Jules (head and all) curled up in the reading chair in Dana's room. A red comforter was tucked under her chin. They quietly backed out of the room, letting her sleep. Marty leaned heavily against the wall of the hallway, grateful that he no longer had to favor his back. Dana did the same. For a few moments they just stood there, soaking in the shock and relief of being back in their normal lives. Out of a nightmare that they created and then fixed. That power was, perhaps, more frightening to Marty than the zombies. Finally his friend broke the silence.
"True love's kiss, huh?" Dana muttered.
"Who'd'a'thunk?" he responded, chuckling nervously.
"Fairytales? Evil witches? Monsters?" She passed a hand through her magically-cleaned hair. "I need a fucking nap."
"Okay. I'll check up on you in an hour, Aurora. In case you need an, uh, alarm clock." He wriggled his brow teasingly.
"Don't get smart on me, Marty," Dana deadpanned. "I've had a long day."
Her warm hand slipped into his and squeezed gently. Marty swallowed at the sweetness in Dana's face. The same face that was screwed tight in determination as she leveled a gun at his head. The same face that was wild in fright and anger as she fought for her life. Relief was there now, and the slightest uncertainty too.
"We're gonna be okay," he murmured, squeezing back.
"Yeah," Dana sighed. "Yeah, we are."
She hesitated at first, but then leaned forward and brushed her lips against the side of his mouth. It was soft and warm, and filled him with life. He felt dizzy, and Marty was pretty sure that the amused look on her face as she pulled away was in response to his goofy grin.
"An hour," he stated seriously when he finally got control over his speech once more.
Dana rolled her eyes, but the smile remained as she went into her room for her nap.