Disclaimers: They're not mine, don't sue.
Author's note: This takes place right after the tornado hit the church.
The sky was falling.
The sky was falling and she'd lied to him again. Not half an hour ago she'd promised him that nothing bad had come of him letting her hold the sketch. And the moment after she told him the boy in the picture was Vickers, the world had caved in.
There was a moment before he found her when she thought the past year might have been a dream. Because she woke up covered in rubble and thought she must be back in that pit. But he pulled her out and told her they were in the church, but that was crazy, because the church had a roof. And somewhere in the distance under the roar of the wind she heard Cristian's voice so he wasn't dead and last year was real. And she wasn't sure whether to weep with joy or regret.
Or pain. The pain was real. It was the only thing that made sense. Pain so bad she prayed for the leg to just fall off. Surely that couldn't hurt this bad.
She'd never been good at listening to him; never did what he asked. But that didn't stop him from trying one last time. He commanded her to keep breathing, not to move, to stay with him. Praying that just once that headstrong attitude which had drawn him to her all those years ago would stop. Would falter. Just long enough for help to arrive.
He groped at his neck—why had he ever taken that medal off? He figured he was all out of miracles, but surely Natalie deserved just one more.
His hand on her thigh wasn't supposed to hurt so much. It wasn't supposed to feel so awful. Of course it would play out this way—she'd craved his touch for so long, of course her wish would wind up this twisted reality.
And John spoke to her softly of a place she'd been. A place they'd been. Of a magical night that he'd promised to make last forever. So it had been real after all, she wasn't still dreaming in that pit that Hayes had forgotten her in. Or maybe they'd just dreamed it together.
The dream was so appealing. And so close. And she let his voice wrap around her like a blanket and turned the lightening into Christmas lights and let herself slip back into it.
And suddenly he remembered where they were. He didn't need the medal after all, they were in St. Jude's Church, the Church of Lost Causes. Almost funny. It could be their own personal religion.
He couldn't tell anymore whether the sticky substance he was soaked with was sweat or rain or Natalie's blood. But he could tell she was slipping away. So he looked at the sky and he begged for help. From God or St. Jude or his father's spirit. Anyone who was listening.
And a crazy thought occurred to him. He'd never believed in fairy tales, not even as a child. So why he thought it would work tonight he never understood. But he leaned down and he kissed his Sleeping Beauty. Because the spell promised she could be awakened by true love's kiss. And he loved her more than any wandering prince could have ever loved a maiden in a tower.
And by some miracle, she stirred.
She'd dreamed about him before in the pit. Cruel dreams that gave her false hope or just made her angry. She didn't believe he'd be there when she opened her eyes. Because she was old enough to know dreams don't come true. But she looked up into those piercing blue eyes suspended under that violent sky. He was still there and he was real. And the pain was gone. And she had no idea whether it was a miracle or a sign that this would be over soon.
And it didn't matter. Because if the world was going to end, at least they could be together.
Fin.