Author's Note: I'm alive! So sorry for the prolonged absence, work has been even worse than I expected these last few weeks and really left no time for writing. But I'm through the worst of it now, I have some time off, and I am back with another chapter! Even better, it's basically just one long conversation between Ellie and Dina, so hopefully it's worth the wait. I don't plan for this to become a habit, and there is still more story to tell.

Thank you to everyone who continues to read and review, and huge thanks to those of you who left reviews checking in on me! I genuinely appreciate your kindness, and I'm glad to say all is well (by 2020 standards, at least).

FIFTEEN

Night had fully fallen by the time Ellie reached town. The sentries were expecting her, and they had already pulled the gate open before she could announce herself. She looked up at the tower to see who was working and saw old Jeremiah staring down at her. He gave her a single nod and a half-hearted salute.

Maria was waiting for her in the gatehouse. The two of them stared at each other silently.

"You had us concerned," Maria said finally. There was a guardedness to her expression that told Ellie she suspected the real story.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry anyone."

The silence stretched on, Maria seeming to consider whether or not she wanted to ask the question that hung between them.

"Well, you're back. That's all that matters."

Ellie released the breath she was holding. "It won't happen again."

"I hope not."

Unsure what else to say, Ellie looked at the ground and changed the subject. "Do you know where those refugees ended up?"

"Over with the medics, last I heard. I imagine they'll be getting patched up for a while." Maria gave Ellie a slight smile. "That man was singing your praises. Kept saying you saved all their lives."

Ellie immediately shook her head. "I was just in the right place at the right time."

"Not the way he tells it."

Increasingly uncomfortable, Ellie looked toward the infirmary where it stood lit up brightly in the darkness. "I'm just going to go check on them."

Ellie began walking away without waiting for a response, but Maria called out to her. When she looked back, she saw the woman's face had softened.

"I'm glad you're okay."

Unsure what to do with the feelings the sentiment evoked, Ellie mumbled her thanks and continued walking. She was disoriented by how seriously everyone had reacted to her disappearance. She wasn't sure what surprised her more: that people had noticed so quickly, that they had cared enough to mount a search, or that she had completely failed to consider the possibility that they would. Trying to make sense of everything was made harder by the weeks of poor sleep that were finally catching up to her, making her feet drag and her thoughts fuzzy.

When she reached the infirmary and pushed the door open, she was immediately blinded by the glare of the bright, sterile lights. She was still getting her bearings when she heard a familiar voice.

"Ellie!"

Dina was sitting across the room at the triage desk, and Ellie froze at the sight of her. The passing thought that she might run into Dina had crossed her mind, but she hadn't expected the two of them to be alone in the dilapidated waiting room the instant she walked in, and she wasn't sure what to do now that they were. The two stared at each other, and as Ellie scrambled silently for what to say, Dina stood up, crossed the room, and pulled her into a tight embrace.

It was the sort of hug the two would have shared before everything fell apart, unrestrained and filled with emotion, and Ellie felt herself melt into it more easily than she wanted to. She had wished for a moment like this for far too long, and as she felt the familiar curves of Dina's body, she finally felt like she was home.

When Dina pulled back, Ellie tried quickly to regain control of herself and squash the disappointment that crept in. She could see the depth of the relief on Dina's face.

"I thought . . ." Dina shook her head, working to regain her composure. "Never mind. Doesn't matter."

And just like that, Ellie felt like the biggest asshole in the world. When she had pictured leaving, she imagined Dina would be the first person to assume the truth, to expect that Ellie had left them again and move right into justifiable anger. But the last time she left, she had at least told Dina. As she thought about it now, she realized what must have really happened – Dina received word that Ellie didn't make it back from a solo hunting trip in the worst winter they'd ever had, she'd watched patrol teams search for hours without success, and she had undoubtedly jumped to a worst-case scenario.

"I'm okay," she said, the words acting as a covert apology as she forced a smile.

The look on Dina's face betrayed how shaken she was, but when she spoke again, her voice was all business. "Well, we should get you checked out anyway."

"Really, I'm fine."

"Excuse me. I'm the medic here."

"Pretty sure you're a trainee," Ellie teased reflexively. "But okay."

"Yeah, so you're already getting the shittiest care available. Maybe don't piss me off on top of that."

Ellie held her hands up in mock surrender, and the two shared a brief smile at the ease of the banter. But as Ellie reveled in another jolt of affection, the awkwardness of the situation seemed to set in for Dina. Her smile faded and she took a small step backward.

Dina led Ellie into the back of the office, both women silent as they walked through the narrow, winding hallway. Ellie felt herself growing anxious again, crashing after the brief emotional high of their almost-normal interaction. The memory of the joy felt tainted by its source, by understanding that if Dina knew the truth, her reaction would have been quite different. The atmosphere of the old doctor's office did nothing to quell her growing unease. Ever since her first solo trip back to St. Mary's, she had found that medical facilities had a particular way of dampening her spirits.

When they reached a cramped exam room at the end of the hall, Dina had Ellie sit as she began collecting supplies. The room was as artificially bright as everything else, the fluorescent lights flickering almost imperceptibly and emitting an endless hum. Ellie felt a headache coming on.

"How's that family doing?" she asked finally.

"They'll be okay. Just some frostbite and minor injuries," said Dina, rummaging in a drawer. "I think they're still in shock, though. Especially the kids."

Ellie had a vivid memory of the little girl's thousand-yard stare.

"And that old lady making it all the way from Montana? Fuck. She's either a much bigger badass than she looks, or the luckiest person alive."

"A little bit of both." Ellie pictured Agnes on the sled, squinting to keep watch on a world she could hardly see. "Do you know if we still have any old pairs of glasses laying around? Her eyes are pretty bad. Might be worth a try."

Dina turned to look at Ellie, nodding quietly. "I can check."

Easy small talk exhausted, Ellie began taking her layers off as Dina pulled up a chair. Removing her last long-sleeve, she winced as the fabric stuck to her arm, attached with dried blood to a gash she didn't remember getting. It was several inches long and the force of pulling her shirt away had torn it open again.

Dina raised an eyebrow at her. "You're fine, huh?"

"I've had worse."

It was the wrong thing to say. Dina's face darkened and she turned her attention to the box of supplies. "It's going to need stitches."

Cursing herself silently, Ellie stared at the wound on her forearm, oozing blood and stinging noticeably for the first time. "It was a clicker," she said after a few seconds, trying to revive the conversation. "They were attacking that family. It pinned me, and I guess I got this without realizing."

Dina's eyes flicked up to Ellie's face for a moment before returning to the antiseptic rag she was preparing. "Good thing we checked, then," she said more gently.

Wincing at the sharp sting of the antiseptic on the wound, Ellie found herself mesmerized watching Dina gently move the rag across her skin. She thought of all the times the two of them had cleaned each other up after fights that went awry, the tenderness and comfort they had found in one another, and the ache of nostalgia was nearly overwhelming.

"So, how do you like being a medic?"

"It's good. It's a lot to learn, but it's nice to feel like I'm doing something that matters." Pausing to ring out the rag, Dina looked at Ellie with a hint of amusement. "How are you liking sentry duty?"

"Oh, you know, it's . . . not any of the things you just said." Ellie gave a dry laugh. "But it's something to do."

"Is that really all you want?"

It wasn't a question Ellie was expecting. "I don't know," she admitted. "After everything . . . I guess I just didn't feel ready for anything else."

Dina frowned and focused on her work quietly for minute. When she spoke again, her voice was measured and deliberate. "Tommy came in about a week ago for some medicine."

If she noticed the way Ellie stiffened, she didn't acknowledge it.

"Oh, yeah?"

"He talked about running into you." Dina sat back and threw the soiled rag in a nearby bucket. "And about how you finished things with Abby."

Ellie felt a surge of shame and panic. "You didn't tell him the truth, did you?"

Dina studied her like something under a microscope. "I didn't tell him anything," she said after a long silence. "But what is the truth, Ellie?"

"Exactly what I told you. I swear." Dropping her eyes, Ellie tried to think of how to explain. "I wasn't planning on lying to him, it just slipped out. I'm going to tell him, I just . . . I want him to hear it from me."

Dina evaluated the story quietly. After several seconds, her eyes softened and she nodded.

"Well, you don't need to worry about me. Tommy and I aren't exactly best friends these days," she said, turning her attention back to preparing the suture thread. "Hold your arm out."

Ellie obliged, watching as Dina threaded the needle. "Any chance I could ask for a real doctor now?"

"Sorry, we're all out."

Although the sting of the first stitch made her wince, Ellie found herself calmed by how gently Dina held her arm. Her movements were smooth and even, and each time Ellie flinched, Dina's thumb rubbed her skin soothingly. It seemed a subconscious act more than one of affection, but Ellie took comfort in it all the same.

Pulling her attention away from the stitches, Ellie looked up. "You and Tommy . . . is it still because of that day at the farm?"

"Sort of." Although Dina's movements remained rhythmic as ever, her voice grew rigid. "A few days after I came back to Jackson, I told him you'd gone. I was pretty pissed off. One thing led to another, and it may have ended with me hitting him in the face."

Despite the weight of the subject, Ellie couldn't stop a single incredulous bark of laughter. "Wow."

Dina remained stoic as she shrugged one shoulder, finding the situation less humorous. "Like I said, not the best terms."

As she sat with the image of it all, Ellie felt the familiar knot begin to tie itself in her throat. The tightly controlled tone of Dina's voice, the look on Tommy's face last she'd seen him – thin veneers of normalcy over pain they didn't want to acknowledge. Pain Ellie knew all too well, and that she'd had a hand in creating.

"It's not really his fault," she said, watching Dina closely. "He was an ass that day, but I'm the one that did this."

Ellie waited anxiously for a response, but Dina said nothing, focusing quietly on her work. After several minutes had passed, Ellie realized the conversation was likely over and she would be left to swallow another mouthful of disappointment and regret. She tried to think of something else to say, but her mind seemed determined to remain blank and she eventually lost herself in watching the movement of the needle.

As Dina closed the final stitch and cut the thread, she stood and turned away to dispose of the supplies. Ellie stared at the rough black line left behind. Clenching and releasing her muscle, she watched as the thread tightened and relaxed along with it, pulling at her skin with the slightest twinge of pain. It looked better than it had before, but it would undoubtedly heal into another scar.

It took her a moment to realize that Dina had turned back to face her, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed and her eyes focused on her shoes, hovering on the edge of what she was about to say.

"If I ask you a question," she said slowly, "will you promise to answer it honestly?"

Ellie felt her breath catch. "Yeah."

"If Tommy hadn't come to the farm that day . . . would you still have left?"

Ellie tried to think of how to answer. They had veered deeply into the territory of what she still didn't know how to talk about. She didn't know how to be honest without hurting Dina worse than she already had, and the spiral of panic she felt only made the hope of responding well seem even farther out of reach.

"I mean . . . I wouldn't have known there was anywhere to go." As soon as the words met the air, Ellie cringed at how empty they sounded.

Dina's expression was unreadable.

"I think it was bigger than Abby by then, though," Ellie admitted, forcing herself to keep going. "I don't know what it would have been if it wasn't Tommy, but . . . I think I would have had to go eventually."

Saying the words aloud and seeing the hurt on Dina's face made Ellie's heart sink. She wanted to take it back, or soften it, or explain it in a way that made sense to someone outside her own head, but she didn't know how.

"Why?" Dina asked, the word sounding like a plea.

"I . . . I can't explain it. It wouldn't make sense."

"Oh, fuck that, Ellie! After everything we've been through, don't you dare act like I can't understand."

"No! That's not –" Ellie clenched her hands tightly into fists, frustrated at herself. To her surprise, the words seemed to spring forth on their own. "I feel like I choke on the words every time I try to say them. Like my mind goes blank and my throat fucking closes and I forget how to talk. There are all these things that I know I should say, things I know you deserve to hear, but I just fucking can't!"

The electrical buzz grew to a roar, filling every corner of the gaping silence. Ellie couldn't look at Dina, absentmindedly wringing her hands and trying desperately to steady herself.

When Dina spoke again after what felt like a lifetime, her voice was soft. "My shift is over. Walk with me?"

Taken aback by the sharp shift in tone, Ellie nodded. The women said nothing as they gathered their things and Dina led them out the back exit. The sharp chill of the night air was a welcome change for Ellie, and as she focused on the feeling of the breeze against her skin, she felt herself growing calmer.

Dina walked with a purpose a few steps ahead, and Ellie followed her without question. The streets had started emptying, most people having retreated already to the warmth of their homes as the temperature plummeted toward the frigid lows it would soon reach. They passed through the shops of main street, most shuttered for the day, some – like the Tipsy Bison – alive with energy and noise muffled by glass and wood. As they passed into the adjacent neighborhoods, Ellie caught the occasional glimpse of the people inside the houses: a woman doing dishes, an old man reading by the glow of a lantern, a couple not much older than she and Dina consoling a crying child. She didn't know any of them by name.

As the minutes dragged on without a word, Ellie began to agonize over what she should say, or if she should say anything at all. Dina was clearly lost in thought, showing no signs of the hurt or the anger she had displayed in the exam room, and although Ellie felt nearly desperate to understand what was going on in her head, she didn't dare ask. She was still stuck in that mental spiral when Dina finally came to a stop at the playground behind the daycare.

The déjà vu was a like a slap to the face when Dina leaned against the fence as she had that day so long ago, staring at the empty play structures. Ellie remembered how she felt that morning – tense and anxious just as she was now, but for reasons so much more innocent.

"JJ loves this playground," said Dina, breaking the long silence with a sad smile. "He'd spend hours going down the slide if I let him."

Ellie pictured the little boy running awkwardly in snow boots from the base of the slide to the stairs, his huge smile and infectious laugh, and she ached to be there with him.

Beside her, Dina began running her hand back and forth across the snow on the top of the fence, packing it down into a smooth icy layer.

"You know, Talia would never talk to me either," she said after a long time. "Something happened to her back in New Mexico. Something bad enough to send us running, to make her jumpy and give her nightmares, but she would never tell me what it was. I can put the pieces together well enough now, but at the time I didn't understand. I just watched my sister fade away. And even now, I wonder if things might have been different if she hadn't been stuck dealing with everything on her own."

Ellie was startled by the abrupt change of topic, her own anxiety momentarily forgotten. Dina talked about Talia a lot, but it was usually the good stories, the things she wanted to remember. She very rarely talked about the details of her death, and she had never mentioned this before at all.

There was a look of deep pain in Dina's eyes as she finally looked up from the fence to meet Ellie's gaze. "You do the same thing, El. You just hold it all in, and I feel like I've watched it tear you apart the same way it did to her. Except you don't have to. I was a little kid, and Talia had to be an adult, and it was just a fucking shitty situation. But you and I are partners – you don't have to do all this alone. I don't know how I could have made that any clearer."

Ellie couldn't control the familiar shrinking sensation that seized her muscles and threatened to freeze her vocal cords again. "You couldn't have," she managed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," said Dina, reaching out a hand and gently nudging Ellie's face up as she tried to look away. "Just try! It doesn't have to make sense, it doesn't have to be perfect, it can be a complete fucking mess – I don't care! But please, if you feel you owe me anything at all, just say something to help me understand. Because hearing you say you were always going to leave . . ." A tear slid down Dina's face and she paused to collect herself. "Right now, it feels like everything we had was just a giant fucking lie."

"No!" Ellie was horrified at how Dina had interpreted what she'd said. "That's not it at all, I –"

She didn't know where her sentence was going, had no idea where or how to begin. Drawing a shuddering breath, she looked up at the dark expanse of sky, filled with its glimmering stars, watching the cloud of her breath appear and evaporate.

"I felt like I was dying." She hadn't consciously planned to say it, but once she did, the rest seemed to flow on its own. "A little more every day. But it was never because of you – you and JJ were the only things that mattered to me at all, the only reason I hung on. But you couldn't fix it. I couldn't fix it. I tried so hard to be there with you, I wanted that to be enough, but nothing I did could make the feeling go away."

Ellie's mind drifted backward to the days at the farm she'd never told Dina about – the long hunts where she would sometimes sit for hours in the woods and contemplate what it would feel like not to get up again, the moments after she'd killed the deer or the rabbit or the grouse and she would find herself staring at the gun in her hands with thoughts she was too afraid to name. The energy it had taken to lock it all away each time she opened the gate to come home, the shame she felt when Dina would greet her at the door with a kiss and JJ would laugh and reach out to her.

Tears stinging at her eyes, Ellie forced herself to go on. "I'm not sure how much longer I could have held on. And when Tommy showed up and opened that door, I thought maybe that was the last piece, you know? Maybe if I could just finish what we started, it would take all these thoughts away and just let me be the person we both wanted me to be."

If Ellie had been able to look at Dina, she would have seen the stricken look on the other woman's face, the tears running quietly down her cheeks.

"But then I had her," she went on, her mind a thousand miles away, suddenly surrounded by sand instead of snow. "I was holding her under the water. And then I just . . . couldn't. I just knew that wouldn't fix it either. I don't know if anything can, but fuck . . . Dina, it was never a lie! It was never you I wanted to leave behind."

It was a heavy silence that followed in the wake of Ellie's admission, an almost physical force that bowed their heads and pulled their eyes to the ground. For a long time, neither could think of anything to say, and it felt like the world was muted but for the crunching of snow and the sniffling of tears both had stopped bothering to conceal.

"You never said anything," Dina finally whispered.

"I tried. That day in the kitchen."

Dina stared at Ellie quietly, reliving their last painful exchange. "Do you still feel the same way?"

Crushing the snow beneath the toe of her boot, Ellie thought seriously about the question.

"Yes and no," she admitted. "Everything still hurts like hell. But . . . I don't know. There isn't that question of 'what if' anymore. I think that helps."

While Ellie kept her eyes glued to the ground, Dina stared at Ellie as though transfixed, feeling too many things to make sense of any one of them individually.

"You have to find a way to talk to me – or to someone," she said finally. "Keeping it all in is destroying you, and I think it has been since the day Joel died."

There was no denying the truth of Dina's words. Numbly, Ellie found herself wondering when her tendency for silence had really started, how she could break a habit that had come to feel more like a personality trait.

"And if you don't care about that, if you hate yourself that much," Dina went on, making Ellie flinch, "then do it for me. Or for JJ, or Tommy, or Joel, or anyone else that I believe you do still care about. Because you aren't just punishing yourself."

The words hit like a truck and left Ellie at a loss for what to say, but it was clear Dina expected a response. Searching through the tangled web of her thoughts, she pulled out the only thing that felt honest.

"I'll try."

It wasn't much, but it seemed enough for Dina. She nodded slightly, the dim light casting shadows across her face, illuminating the dried tear marks and dark circles beneath her eyes. She looked as hollow in that moment as Ellie felt.

"I'm sorry," said Dina, her voice barely above a whisper. "That I didn't understand how bad it was."

"I didn't do a very good job of saying it."

For the first time in longer than either could remember, it felt like the well of words had run dry – not because of Ellie's reticence or Dina's resentment, but because they had actually pulled the bucket to the surface and sipped. The silence that fell next was different than the ones that had come before, although neither could quite identify how.

"I need to get home," said Dina finally. "JJ's asleep by now. Lee and Robin can't leave until I get back."

"Can I walk you?" asked Ellie hesitantly.

Dina nodded slowly. "Yeah."

It was another quiet trek, but this time they walked slowly side by side. It took only a couple of minutes to reach Dina's house, its tiny front light aglow, seeping warmth into the night. The curtains were all drawn shut, but through the thin fabric Ellie could make out the silhouette of a person with a cane walking across the room beyond. Ellie wondered what Jesse's parents would think of her now – not only the person who had gotten their son killed, or who had rudely avoided talking with them whenever they visited, but also the person who abandoned their grandson and the woman they saw as a daughter.

The women paused in the street outside, standing quietly for some time, at a loss for how to end the interaction neither of them yet knew what to make of.

"I mean it, Dina – I'll try," said Ellie suddenly, repeating her words from earlier with more resolve. She forced herself to look Dina in the eyes. "I promise."

Folding her arms tightly across her chest, Dina studied her for a moment. "Look, I . . . I don't want to wake JJ tonight. But you could come by for lunch tomorrow if you want to see him. If you're free."

The offer was so far beyond Ellie's expectations that she was stunned silent for a moment before she could fully process the invitation. "Yeah," she finally managed to choke out. "I'd love to."

"Okay. Before you come, though, I need you to think about what you want from seeing him," Dina warned gently. "If you just want to be the fun babysitter who hangs out sometimes, or if you want to be part of his life like before. You can see him no matter what you decide, but I need you to commit either way. I won't let him be disappointed if you're planning to leave again."

Ellie immediately opened her mouth to respond, but Dina cut her off before she could begin.

"Don't. Sleep on it. Tonight's been a lot already, and I need to know you've really thought it through."

Stifling the urgency she felt, Ellie forced herself to stop and nod.

"Okay." Dina took a step toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Ellie watched as Dina walked up the steps and disappeared into the house.

We actually talked. I'm going to see JJ.

I almost walked away from all of this.