Because of course I couldn't let it end like that. So I had to fix it. You're welcome. Note: anything you recognize isn't mine.
Jamie held tight to the weeping girl in her arms, her own tears dripping silently into Clementine's hair. Between them, Henry lay obedient and still. She wondered if he knew, if he could sense his girl's distress. Jamie let her left hand fall from Clem's head to scratch the dog's ear. Henry whined appreciatively but stayed otherwise quiet.
They stayed like that for several long minutes. Jamie had tried not to think about the future, about the promise Abe had made to Mitch during that last phone call. We are her family now. Abe had parroted Mitch's words, but Jamie heard only the soft tenor that had carried her through so much in the last two years. Now, holding on to the man's daughter, Jamie's mind replayed his final words like a mantra.
Henry whined again, this time wiggling enough to make Clementine sit back. She furrowed her brow as she wiped her eyes. "What's wrong, Henry?" The pup only whined louder, this time adding a thump of his tail. Then, like a shot, he bounded from the bed and down the hall. Clementine was after him immediately, calling to him frantically. Jamie followed as well, unsure what the reactions of others would be to an animal racing past. Despite the joyous reunion earlier, most of the residents of the temporary shelter were still leery of anything on four legs.
The dog and the girl rounded a corner well before Jamie, who was still getting used to sprinting on nine toes. She had almost made the turn when she heard it. Three sounds, almost simultaneous, that combined to snatch the breath from her chest.
"Woof!"
"Clem!"
"Dad!"
Her hand sought purchase on the concrete wall next to her as she finally came around the corner. What she was seeing simply wasn't possible. But if there was one thing she learned about him, it was that Mitch Morgan excelled at the impossible.
He looked half-dead, one arm wrapped tightly around his daughter and the other bracing himself against the desk behind him. His normally unkempt hair was wild, and his right pant leg was stained with the sickly reddish-brown that told a bloody story. His head was bent low as he spoke a string of comforting nonsense to the now-distraught girl in his arms, but in the space of a heartbeat he raised his eyes to hers. Another beat had her running toward him, and the next she was in his arms. Clem was pinned between them but none of them seemed to care. Her own sobs mixed with Jamie's, and even Mitch was breathing heavily as they clung to one another.
Onlookers seemed to sense the importance of the moment and made themselves scarce. No one was around when Jamie finally pulled away and kissed Mitch hurriedly. He returned it with equal fervor, not at all disappointed when she turned her head and buried it into his shoulder again to stifle another sob. Clem had slid around to one side of him, allowing Jamie to press against his bloodied leg. He tried to hide a wince but Jamie felt his muscle tense in pain. Clem seemed to sense it too, and she pulled away.
"What's wrong, Dad?"
"It's nothing," he shook his head. "Let me look at you." He released Jamie to frame the girl's face in both hands. "They got you the medicine in time."
"In time for what?" Clementine asked. "Dad, what's going on? They said you died."
"I almost did," he answered. "Listen, Clem, I promise I will explain everything. Could you go find Jackson and the others?"
"Okay." The girl seemed to perk up immediately, turning to her dog with a bright smile. "Come on, Henry!" She bounced away lightly, and Jamie marveled at her resiliency.
The moment she was out of sight Mitch sagged against the desk in exhaustion. Jamie tried to help him, and they managed to get him to a chair with only one hiss of pain. She knelt at his feet and gingerly touched the bloody fabric. They weren't the pants he'd been wearing, and she could see the strip of white beneath the cuff that probably meant he'd gotten the wound bandaged. But it was obviously well past the point of needing changed, and Jamie winced slightly as she rolled the cuff up.
Mitch sucked in a breath through his teeth and spoke in a pained rush. "I had just gotten the fence back online when they broke through the door. One hit me from behind and I thought that was it. Two flash bangs later, I'm lying on the floor with a bleeding leg wound while six of those Shepherds hovered over me." He said all this with his head laid back against the wall, eyes closed. Jamie could picture it in her mind, and new tears sprang up at the thought of Mitch all alone in that bunker. He'd lied to her - lied to save her life and Clem's at the expense of his own.
Later, when she'd had time to process everything and her elation at his miraculous survival wore off, she was going to be so pissed at him.
"Mitch!" Jackson led the pack as they all came rushing toward him. The next few moments were a series of awkward hugs and tears from everyone, accompanied by Henry's excited barking and Clementine's laughter. It was as close to triumph as Jamie had ever been and she was going to enjoy it.
They appropriated the small alcove near the front desk, and Abe tracked down a doctor to look at Mitch's leg. Dariela offered to escort Clementine and Henry for a walk, and Jackson went looking for food. Jamie refused to leave Mitch's side, choosing instead to perch on the edge of the makeshift exam table and distract Mitch from the large number of stitches that were currently being sewn into his leg. The razorback wolf hadn't gotten a clean hold, which was lucky according to Abe.
"At least you aren't losing the whole leg," she joked, earning a pained chuckle from him. Their hands were intertwined in her lap, and she patted his arm with her free one. "It'll be over soon."
"Then what?" He stared at the ceiling through horribly smudged glasses, and she could see flecks of red where he hadn't managed to clean them properly. She slipped them from his face and used her shirt to remove most of the grime, aware of his eyes now focused on her.
"Then," she said, replacing the lenses on his nose, "we wait for Jackson to get back and eat. After that? No clue."
The doctor, an older gentleman with silver hair and bright blue eyes, snapped his gloves off with gusto. "I'll see if I can scrounge up some antibiotic cream. You'll need to keep an eye out for infection. You know the signs?"
"Yeah," Mitch sat up to examine the man's handiwork. "Thanks, doc. I owe you one."
"You're welcome, son. Just take care of that family of yours and we'll call it even." The older man winked at Jamie before ambling away to find some other poor soul to help. Mitch let out a huff of embarrassed laughter, letting his eyes dart to Jamie's before falling away again.
"You heard the man," Jamie slipped off the table and held out her hand. "Let's go find Clementine."
Dariela had found a ball somewhere among the debris, and Clementine was chasing Henry around trying to get it back. Mitch had refused the cane Jamie had found, choosing instead to limp painfully up the hill to the small dog park that sat behind the kennels.
"Dad!" Clementine stopped her chase the moment he came into view, and he only stumbled slightly when she barrelled into him. Jamie's hand on his back kept him upright, and he shot her a grateful look as he patted his daughter's back.
"I see Henry's back to normal," he said.
"Thanks to you," Clem looked up at her father with proud wonder. "Jamie said you saved the world."
"She did?" Mitch glanced sidelong at the woman with a teasing grin.
A bit embarrassed by the words she'd used to console a grieving daughter, Jamie scoffed. "Great," she rolled her eyes, "now he's going to be impossible to live with."
"But it's true!" Clementine protested. "You fixed Henry and the other animals, right?"
"Uh, yeah," Mitch nodded. "Yep, all animals have been cured. It's gonna take a while for the cure to spread everywhere, but in a few weeks things should be getting back to normal."
"Then we can leave here?" the girl asked.
"We can leave whenever we want," Mitch answered. "We've got a plane."
Ten minutes later they were all gathered in the vehicle bay. Jackson had a look on his face the others had never seen before, and it wasn't until they ushered Clementine upstairs that he let them in on the secret. For a moment no one said anything, unwilling to believe that anyone would willingly sterilize the entire human race. Even Mitch floundered, his scientific mind already running calculations on birth and death rates. It was Abe that set everybody right again, offering to cook while the others got settled. Jackson joined him in the kitchen, and whatever they were cooking filled the plane with a delicious odor. Mitch had joined Clementine and Henry in his room to get cleaned and settled, leaving Jamie and Dariela sitting at the bar with half-filled glasses.
"Hell of a day, huh?" Dariela sipped her water slowly, her thoughts bouncing between the events of the last few days and the uncertainty of tomorrow.
"Yeah," Jamie nodded. "Listen, I know we didn't exactly get off on the right foot. But I just wanted to thank you. We would never have made it this far without you."
"Hey," the ex-Army Ranger shrugged one shoulder, "I'm just glad everything worked out."
Jamie's head turned in the direction of the living quarters. Mitch was one floor and several walls away, but he was alive and breathing and there. His daughter was, too, and Jamie felt her heart clench at the knowledge that she was probably the only child he would ever have.
"What?" Dariela seemed to sense her sudden mood shift. Jamie chalked it up to hormones and shook her head.
"It's just...it didn't really work out, did it? I mean, the entire human race is sterile. And if we don't figure out a way to reverse it, we're going to be extinct in less than a hundred years." Jamie ran her finger along the edge of the glass, lifting it to swirl the amber liquid inside. "Man, I wish you guys hadn't drank all the vodka."
"Hey, don't look at me," Dariela laughed. "I haven't had a drop since I got back."
And with Mitch busy with the cure and the serum, that only left one person on board who drank alcohol. Jamie scowled as she forced the question out. "Where is Logan?"
"Right here," the man in question sidled up to the bar. Dariela finished her water and slipped away quietly, leaving Jamie to fend for herself. "You guys sort of ditched me back there."
Good riddance, Jamie thought to herself, but out loud she knew she had to acknowledge the man's contribution. "Listen, I did want to thank you. For finding Clementine."
"It was the least I could do," Logan tilted his head. "How is she?"
"She's doing better now that Mitch is back. She's still broken up about her mom and Justin, but she'll pull through." Jamie knew what it was like to lose a mother at her age; it was something they now shared. She made a mental note to ask Mitch if she could talk to Clementine about it.
"That's good." He paused awkwardly, clearing his throat before speaking again. "Listen, Jamie -"
"Logan," she cut him off, "I am grateful to you for Clementine, but that doesn't change the fact that I still don't know you. I don't know who you are. How much of your story is real? How much of you is real?"
"I really am a pilot," he told her firmly. "And I do have a sister, but I haven't talked to her in years."
"And Kelly?"
"Kelly?"
"Your girlfriend? The one who was attacked?" He glanced away ashamedly and she sighed. "I'm gonna take that as a no." She shored up her defenses and looked him square in the eye. "What about your name?"
To his credit, this time he didn't drop his eyes. "My name is Edward Robert Collins. But I always wanted to be Logan because of Wolverine." For just a moment his facade fell away and she saw something akin to pain in his face as he spoke about being bullied as a child and wishing more than anything to be indestructible. And just when she thought he might finally be someone she could call friend, he dropped the bomb on her.
"I really liked being Logan with you." She knew exactly what he was asking her, and for the first time since she learned about his betrayal she felt a twinge of sympathy for him.
"I can't," she told him sadly.
He took a second to gather himself back up, and in the span of a blink he had slipped his mask back on. "Mitch." It was resigned, like he'd been expecting nothing else.
"It's not just that," she told him. "Even if Mitch and I...if we weren't…" They hadn't exactly talked about what it was they were, but by unspoken agreement they were something. Still, that wasn't the crux of her issue with Logan. "You need to learn how to be Edward. Logan might be a tough, untouchable mercenary, but it's not who you really are."
"Who I really am is a loser," he frowned, pushing away from the bar to stand up. "Edward was a weak boy who always took whatever crap they dished out and never fought back. Logan is a fighter. I want to be a fighter."
"Fine," Jamie stood as well and gestured toward the rear of the plane. "Then go be a fighter out there. Because after everything that's happened, I can't stand to be in the same room as Logan." She didn't miss the flicker of hurt that passed over his face, but he hid it quickly. They stared each other down for a few moments more, then Logan turned and walked out.
"He gone for good this time?" Mitch's voice startled her, and she whirled on her good foot. "Easy," he held up his hands. "I'm sorry, I know he was sort of your friend for a while."
"I don't know what the hell he was," Jamie countered. She watched Mitch hobble to the bar and pour himself a glass of the same whiskey she'd found for herself. "You sure you should be drinking that while you're taking antibiotics?" He'd found a stash of basic medicine that the Shepherds hadn't raided, and he'd swallowed the first pill just before taking Clementine on the grand tour of the plane.
"It'll be fine," he waved her off, "I'm a doctor, remember?" He eased himself onto the barstool Dariela had vacated, indicating with his eyes that she should sit back down next to him. She did, accepting the salute of his glass with her own. The soft clink seemed to echo in the quiet space, and they both took a little longer to sip the fiery liquid than usual.
"I'm thinking about writing a book," Jamie said suddenly. Mitch didn't reply for a moment, then he snorted in amusement. Jamie nudged his shoulder with her own. "What?"
His mouth curved up in a half-smile, his eyes dancing with the mirth of his own private joke. "That is something people do in Maine."
She laughed and leaned in again, humming in approval as his free arm wrapped around her waist and he dipped his head in for a kiss. This one was slower than their previous two kisses. They savored each second as their mouths explored, tongues brushing and teeth nipping. And, unlike their previous two kisses, this one continued uninterrupted until both were gasping for air.
"What else do people do in Maine?" she breathed against his skin.
"Oh, I don't know," he replied, his forehead pressed against hers. "I'm sure we'll think of something."