Reborn

Epilogue

"Jo, what are you doing out here?" asks Meg, pushing aside tree branches as she makes her way to the clearing.

Jo is sitting down, mechanical legs hanging off the edge of a cliff. She's looking off into the sun as it sinks into the ocean. She's holding her head up with her hands, absently tracing the scars around her eye. The scars she got five years ago.

"Do you remember Cy?" asks the silver-haired girl.

"Yeah," Meg nods, sitting down to the left of her lover.

"Good." Jo looks at her. "It's a pity when the dead is forgotten."

"It's sad that she ended up dying a few months after the fight," comments Meg, head resting on Jo's shoulder.

"Yeah... it is, huh? Sometimes I forget she's dead."

As it gets colder, Jo puts her bullet-proof jacket around Meg's shoulders. It's the same as the one she used when she went to fight the rest of RAPT all those years ago, but long, like Cy's. Under it is a black tank-top and black pants, signature red chaps included. But Jo refuses to hide the metal of her robotic parts because of Cy.

They sit in a comfortable silence, Jo starting to polish her guns. Those, like her, remain unchanged. Meg carefully traces the scars from where her markings burned into her, occasionally looking at the wire-shaped burns on her stomach. She would have those scars for the rest of her life, but it was fine. Jo already saw them as marks to be proud of, because of how and why she'd gotten them.

Meg remembers the two of them in this position, before Jo almost died in the explosion of RAPT headquarters. Jo seemed... a lot younger, back then. In the weeks after the two girls had re-joined the group, Jo went through a lot. Being saved by Cy, discovering that she had lost her legs and arm, destroying the machine.

Jo remembered Cy, and her laid-back attitude. What would she do if she had survived? Join the group? No, she was too sick. They still didn't know why she was sick, just that her medicine was the only thing that kept her alive. She'd wanted to die. She'd gone over to the trailer and said she was going to stop taking the medicine, and said goodbye. She'd looked miserable in her last days. She was thin, not even drinking anything. No beer, no wine, nothing.

"Jo, don't do anything stupid," said the cyborg, smirking. The small grin lacked it's usual life, it's usual smart-ass attitude. "I won't be able to fix you after this."

Had it been anyone else, Jo would've called them weak. But Cy wasn't supposed to be alive in the first place. RAPT had made her cheat death in the worst way. There had been a photo of Cy from before she'd been changed. She'd had brown eyes, a shit-eating grin and tanned skin. Like them, she was a mercenary.

Jo pulled Meg closer to her, as if trying to keep her safe from the world. Cy was an example of what man would do to get what they want. They would take people from wherever they were and manipulate them to their will.

"RAPT was made of horrible, horrible men," says Jo. "Do you know why I wanted to blow them up all those years ago now?"

"I kind of get it," replies Meg. "But I just wish I could have gone."

"No you don't," corrects Jo. "You wish I didn't go."

"Same thing in my book," comments the red-head, smiling. She kisses Jo, who grins. It's that smile again. That gentle smirk.

"Hey lovebirds," says a voice, as Amy ruins the moment. "We have a job. Get going!"

Jo stands, Meg returning her jacket. The blue-eyed girl glares at Amy, and Jo chuckles lightly, though it's barely noticeable. She walks past the two girls, ruffling Amy's hair on the way, just to annoy her. That's her payback for ruining the moment.

Jo sees the trailer, standing in the middle of nowhere. Just like old times.


A/N: And now, I would like to apologize for the short epilogue. And here's some things you don't know about the story:

My first idea for this would be for Jo to have been given the same sickness that Cy had for some reason. Of course, Cy's sickness was different back then and I made a lot of changes.

Cy was born from a random-ass thought I had one day. It was a vision, more like, an image that I couldn't get out of my head. It was of a wounded cyborg, sitting on a metal table with wires and tubes sticking out of their back. At the time, I had been planning to make a Burst Angel fanfic but had NO FUCKING IDEA what to put. So I put two and two together and made this. I really fucking loved writing this story and have TWO ideas for TWO more Bakuten fanfics. So stay tuned!

THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO READ THIS!

-HolyRiot11