After Abby walked away, Ellie had sat in her room for twenty minutes, contemplating life. Then there was a knock on her door, and a woman with dark eyes and tied up hair had brought her a tray of warm food. It wasn't the best, but it had meat.
Ellie's room wasn't huge, but it is probably still the nicest she's ever had. It had dark red carpet, and goldenrod drapes in front of the window with a fabulous view of the open ocean, the California coast in the distance. The bed is huge, with a thick comforter covered in embroidery. Seems like she'd smother under it.
After she ate she pulled herself together and found her way to the infirmary herself. There were no guards, so she just wandered in.
It's a long, rectangular room that looks like it used to be a garage. There are large roll-up doors along the left side, and the floor is all polished concrete. There are at least thirty beds, but most are empty. She sees a familiar pair of boots behind one of the curtains dividing the beds. She walks over.
When she comes around the corner and sees Clint, he's completely limp in the bed, eyes closed. She panics for a second. Then she sees he's hooked up to an IV. She walks over, holding a hand over him but not touching him.
"He's just sleeping, you know."
Ellie looks up, and there's a young woman in scrubs. She has brown eyes and dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She's holding a clipboard. She's cute.
"He's not…" Ellie starts.
She frowns. "He's not what?"
"Infected?" Ellie asks, swallowing.
The woman laughs. When she sees Ellie's face, she gets sober again. "No, he's not infected. We wouldn't have hooked him up to an IV if he was."
"What would you have done?"
The woman screws up her lips. "Let's not talk about that. You're Ellie, aren't you?"
"You know my name already?"
"Word travels fast. You're kind of a big deal."
Ellie frowns, looking at Clint.
"We scanned him when he came in," the nurse says. "He's okay. He was pretty beat up, though, and dehydrated. You guys really got in a scrap, didn't you?"
Ellie's only half listening as she releases a deep sigh of relief. There are clean bandages over the bullet wound in his chest. She runs her thumb over it. There's no visible blood. "You're gonna need new glasses, aren't you?"
When Ellie looks up, the nurse is still watching her with a little smile. Ellie's a little embarrassed. "Are you two together?" the nurse asks.
Ellie doesn't follow for a second. Then she retracts. "What? No. No, we're not together."
"Oh, sorry."
"And if word travels fast, will you do me a favor and send that around too?"
"Um… I guess, if you're asking."
Ellie looks Clint over. He's out cold. "You had to sedate him?"
She laughs. "Sedate him? Ellie, he was exhausted. He said you guys were on a boat all night, in the storm. Yikes. As soon as he was done eating he passed out. I'm surprised you're still awake." She tilts her head. "Ellie, you should get looked at, too."
"I'm fine."
"Oh, yeah? You one of those types?"
Ellie pinches her brow.
"You're always fine? I had a guy come in with three bullet holes in him one time. He tried to insist he was fine, kept asking about his friend."
"I just need…" Honestly, thinking about it, looking at Clint sleeping, rest is starting to sound pretty damn nice.
The nurse twists her lips. "Well, tell you what, it's not exactly regulation, but if you fall asleep in that bed next to his, I'll make sure they don't bother you."
Ellie starts nodding. "Okay. Thank you."
The nurse smiles. "Take care now." She walks away.
They cleaned the dirt and sweat off him somehow. He looks about fifteen, sleeping like that. Like when she first met him.
She thinks about when she sat down across from him and his waffle sandwich. She had taken one look and thought there's no way this guy's up for this thing. No way he makes it.
And she'd kept being afraid of that to this very second.
"Know what, Clint?" she says. "You didn't do half bad." She gives him a little punch on the shoulder.
"Not half bad."
The metal table is icy cold under her back. The hospital gown is not helping much.
Ellie's nervous, trembling. The light in her face is so strong, she can barely see anything.
She looks over to Abby, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, looking for help, but she doesn't find any.
"You asked for this," Abby says.
Joel nods silently in agreement from his chair.
Ellie looks down. Dr. Andersen is face down on the operating room floor, in a pool of blood.
"Yeah," says Abby, "I bet you wish it was him."
"Don't worry," says a voice that chills her from her fingertips to her spine. "I'm going to take good care of you."
She can't see him, the light is so bright, then his face appears before her. Her stomach twists in horror.
"Easy now, Ellie," says David, some gleaming, twisted instrument in his hand. "It'll be over so quick." He giggles. "Tiny little pieces…"
Ellie starts awake, not breathing again. Her gut feels cold. She rattles out some breath.
"Ellie?"
It's Clint. He's still laying in his bed with a tray of food in his lap. "You alright?"
Ellie groans as she pulls herself into a sitting position, trying to shake off sleep and the nightmare. "Ugh, I guess." She rubs her eye. "You sure seem fucking comfortable."
He looks around for a second at the infirmary, his bed, and his food, considering. "I am."
Ellie scoffs. "Where's my food, then?"
"This isn't," the nurse says, rounding the curtain by Clint's bed, "a hotel, you know. Healthy people get their own food."
"Healthy?" says Ellie. "Look at me, I'm all fucked up!"
The nurse laughs. It's a nice sound. "Oh, yeah. Well, too bad, because I officially discharge you." She waves her hand as if performing magic.
"Ugh," says Ellie. "Well, is Clint free to go? Or do I have to go by myself?"
Clint picks up his tray as if he's about to climb out of bed right there. He's still hooked up to the IV, though.
The nurse frowns. "Well, I suppose. You two are pretty hardy, aren't you?"
"Most definitely," says Clint. He reaches for his IV, to the nurse's instant admonishment. He lets her remove it.
The nurse has Clint go over to a desk by the front to do some kind of paperwork.
"Hey," says Ellie as soon as he's gone. The nurse looks up, taken aback. "You know my name, but I never got yours."
She's got smooth, light brown skin and brown eyes with a touch of green. Her hair is straight, dark and lustrous, her ponytail reaching past her shoulders. "Mara," she says.
"Well, Mara, thanks for taking care of Clint. He was all I had out there."
"It's what we do here." Her voice is soft and kind.
"I bet." Ellie sniffs looking out the little windows. The light says the sun must be setting. They slept all day. "You know, I'm glad to be here. Not much but cold comfort out on the road."
Mara nods, a little confused.
"Now I've got a warm, comfortable room, with a big old bed, all the sudden. It's unbelievable."
"Yeah?" says Mara, narrowing her eyes. "That's better than what I got, to be honest."
Ellie nods. "Yeah, it's not far from the auditorium. Room 6b."
Mara's confused for a second, then her eyes widen. "Wait, what?"
Ellie doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking back.
Mara giggles, blushing all the sudden. "Um… wow. Ellie, I'm not really…"
Ellie gestures with her face, as if for Mara to continue. "You're not? Are you sure? Because you don't seem sure."
Mara smiles as if not meaning to. She looks over her shoulder. "Oh my god, Ellie, stop it." Ellie's pretty sure she's eating it up.
"Hey, Ellie," says Clint. He's still holding his tray, oblivious like the dummy he is. Ellie gives him a look and he's confused, then embarrassed.
You are so fucking obvious, asshole.
Mara's smirking. "Better go on now, Ellie. Wouldn't want to keep you."
"Guess I'd better," she grumbles.
She slugs Clint in the arm after they turn the corner.
There are only a couple older guys in the cafeteria when they get there. It's a high-ceilinged room with maybe twenty tables in it, pretty big. There's a metal counter at the back. A man with an apron and a bandana tied around his head stands behind it. When he sees them, he scowls.
"Hey, feeding hours are over! What are you two doing here? Who are you?"
Clint hesitates but Ellie keeps walking to the counter. "Hungry," she says.
"Oh…" he says, looking her up and down. "It's you, isn't it, princess? Oh, yeah, how can I say no to royalty?"
She really wants to tell him not to call her 'princess,' but she can't give him the satisfaction. "That's right."
"We threw almost all the food out already," he says, head tilted.
"You guys throw out food?!" she exclaims.
He scoffs. "Man, you guys really have been roughing it. Fine, you can have what's left."
'What's left' ends up being a couple rolls and some kind of vegetable patty that's browned on the outside, and basically mush in the middle. It looks gross, but it's actually savory and satisfying when she bites into it. And the guy is clearly all bark, because he gives her a little butter and some red sauce to go with the patty that turns out to be decent ketchup.
Clint is finished long before Ellie. He's sitting there with his elbows on the steel tabletop.
"You just gonna watch me eat?" Ellie asks.
"What else am I supposed to do?"
Ellie shrugs, and takes another bite of the roll.
"You think we're safe here?" Clint asks.
She didn't expect the question. She pinches her brow and nods, chewing. She finds herself thinking of Marlene. She swallows. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure we'd be safe here even if my brain wasn't the last hope of humanity." She spreads more butter on her roll. "Long as we follow orders."
"Gotta be honest, Ellie," says Clint. "I'm thankful to be here, but I'm not sure the actual soldier life is for me. I mean, this has been one hell of an adventure, but I'd prefer to get back to Jackson in one piece to actually tell people about it."
"You will," says Ellie.
"And you?" asks Clint.
He doesn't have a clear reason to ask that. And Ellie knows he still doesn't know, what's going to happen to her. She should tell him.
She takes a bite of buttered roll. He's still waiting for a response. She frowns and shakes her head.
"As if you would make it back on your own?"
He snorts. "What I'm getting at… it feels safe for now, but we don't know what's going to happen from here."
"I do, actually," says Ellie. She tells him what Grayson told her in his office.
"Holy shit… That soon?" He laughs, breaking into a big smile. "That's amazing! Right?" He raises his hand for a high five.
She leaves him hanging. She shakes her head, managing a solid half smile.
"Isn't that amazing?" he asks. He lowers his hand. "Why aren't you with me?"
"Ah…" She scratches the side of her head. "I don't know. You're right, it's so soon. It's almost… I don't know, anticlimactic? Maybe I don't believe it yet… I mean, we don't know the doctor is going to get to Sacramento safely, right?"
Clint scratches his lip. "I mean, I guess not, no. Man, you're a tough nut to crack."
She doesn't know what to say to that so she says nothing.
"Ellie?" Clint starts. "Do you not want this to happen?"
With considerable willpower, she keeps her emotions off her face. Clint is getting too close. He can read her too well. She takes a breath, puts her elbows on the table and looks him in the eye.
"I'm scared," she says.
"Scared of what?"
His concern is so annoying. She screws up her lips. "I'm scared it won't work."
Clint nods in understanding. "Right. Duh. There are no guarantees here. I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" she says. "You got me here."
"I got you here?" He acts taken aback. "That's a surprising amount of credit."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," she says.
His look lingers for a second, then he looks down at his lap, a little smile on his face. "I am," he says.
Once they're done, the cook takes their trays with a now-familiar lack of grace, and they walk back to their rooms. Turns out they're down the hall from each other.
"I can't believe you ruined my chances with Mara," says Ellie. They're standing in the hallway, almost completely dark, but for the moonlight coming in through the window.
"Well…" he starts, in an apparent attempt to defend himself. He scratches his head. "Sorry?"
She smiles, and gives him a little punch on the shoulder. "Think you can go back to sleep?"
"Honestly," he says, "yes."
"Me too, I hope."
"Night, Ellie."
"Night, dummy."
Sadly, sleep doesn't come for Ellie. The nightmare picks at her from the back of her mind. She finds herself trying to imagine what Dr. Watanabe looks like.
There's a little lamp next to her bed that works. She keeps it on, preferring it to the darkness. She can hear the waves through her window.
Sometime later, she's not sure how long, there's a knock at her door so quiet she thinks she might have imagined it.
She gets up and walks to the door. When she opens it, it's Mara. She looks surprised, for some reason. She collects herself.
"Can't sleep?" Mara asks.
"Lucky you," says Ellie. She holds the door open.
Mara gives her a look, but she steps inside, and Ellie closes the door behind her.
I'm good. Ellie's good. Can't ask for much more. She was scared too, I could tell. That I was infected. God. That was a nightmare, at the end, with the shambler. And everything that came before it. That was the worst situation we were in since we left Jackson, except maybe Portland. Jeez, Grand Junction was bad too. But we still made it. Thank God.
These beds are amazing. Best mattress I ever slept on, probably. I think they gave us some of the best rooms they have. I forgot what a good night of sleep felt like. Well, mostly good.
I had another nightmare. In the infirmary, too. Basically me in that wet pit, with the shambler. I can see the ocean, but I can't get to it. And there's one other key difference. Ellie's not there.
I am so fucking thankful that we made it alright. I assumed Ellie would feel the same, but she's… Still on edge. I mean, she's in relatively good spirits. Probably the best since we left Jackson. Shit, she didn't waste any time hitting on Mara. Was I supposed to see that coming? I felt like such a jackass.
Still, though. Something's bothering her. She told me she's scared it won't work. They won't be able to make the cure with her as a subject. Or specimen, technically. Doubt she'd like that word, though.
And I believe that, that scares me, too. Kind of a burden, I guess. Carrying all that hope. The Fireflies probably carry that, too. Those that really believe, anyway. Grayson must carrying a lot.
Ellie told me he seems like a good leader. Apparently he's the God-fearing kind of guy. She told me what he said when he first found out she was the one. Kind of sorry I missed it.
Well, he didn't hesitate to put me to work. Thought I'd get at least one more day of rest, but no, Montes has been short-handed all month. They literally had me hauling logs up a hill with his guys! We probably stacked up five dozen for their new building project. And you know what's funny? At lunch, Maria told me they probably won't ever use them, since everyone's fucking shipping out to Sacramento anyway. What the fuck.
Gotta have orders to eat, she said. Nice. The Fireflies are alright, but I'll take Jackson any day of the week.
Still… I keep thinking about Ellie. Something tells me she's hiding something. I mean, it's felt like that since she sat across the table from me in Jackson, but a lot of that has gone away as she's opened up. To the extent she has opened up, anyway.
[Scribbles.]
I don't expect her to ever trust me like she trusts Dina or the other people she's been close to. Most of whom are dead. I can't make her and I wouldn't if I could. So I'll just do what I can. I'll be there.
Evening mess is almost up. Until next time.
Ellie would prefer going to mess with Clint, but she has no idea when he's getting back from work detail. So she walks into the cafeteria full of strangers by herself.
She'd spent the day wandering around the building. She had tried to leave and explore town, only for the guards to stop her. They informed her they were under strict orders not to let her off the grounds. That had been pretty annoying, but if she were Grayson she would have done the same thing.
She'd tried to hunt him down to get him to loosen the leash, but he was out and about all day. She'd ended up finding a way onto the roof and just watched the seagulls and town in the distance. People milled about, buying things, eating food from the vendors. Their gait is slow, casual. The manner of people who believe they're safe. They seem like civilians. The Fireflies have grown something here. Down the coast a ways there's a beach, and she can see a couple families playing in the sand and water.
She read through a few of her Savage Starlight comics. It felt strange, to have time as her only obstacle.
When she got bored, she'd snooped a bit. There wasn't much juicy stuff, though. She overheard a few things, listening to radio chatter from the other side of a door. Teams were being recalled from different parts of the island. Patrols would be reduced to an extent, but not eliminated. About half their forces would stay on the island to defend the civilians there. The rest and much of their gear and vehicles would be joining the caravan to Sacramento, over land.
They kept referring to her as 'the asset,' which was a strange feeling.
With regular access to food, she might have eaten more, but people are only given three meals a day, no exceptions. Breakfast had been pretty good, but for lunch, she had taken a piece of weird meatloaf-ish stuff that had been totally gross.
She notices a couple glances her way when she walks into the caf, but she's largely ignored. There's a line for dinner. Then she notices who is at the back of it. She guesses not everyone here is a stranger.
It would make sense for her to leave and come back later, but if she's being honest, sometimes Ellie does things for reasons she doesn't quite grasp. And this is one of those moments.
She walks up and taps Abby on the shoulder.
When Abby turns and sees her, her eyes go wide for a second. An effect Ellie doesn't guess is going to end anytime soon. But she found the list of people going to Sacramento, and Abby is on it. One way or the other, she's going to have to get used to it.
"I need your help," Ellie says.
"How?" Abby replies.
"I found out today that the food here is highly hit or miss."
Abby's jaw is tight, but she cocks an eyebrow. "You're right about that."
"I'd prefer to hit."
"Follow my lead, then."
Ellie nods, then she notices that someone standing right next to them is watching her as well. When she recognizes him, it's a shock.
He's maybe sixteen now. He's got a handsome face, with two long scars going from the corner of his lips across his cheeks. His hair is black and straight, mid-length with a clean part on the right side. It reminds her of Jesse's, but more kempt. He's wearing the green canvas jacket and trousers of a soldier.
It's a far cry from how he'd looked when he'd lain in that boat, with Ellie's knife on his throat.
"I'm Lev," he says nonchalantly. When Ellie doesn't immediately reply, he reaches out and takes her hand, shaking it.
"Ellie," she says, uncomfortable. Abby is watching her with another unreadable expression. Her eyes move to the side for a second and she winces.
"Danny acts like he's mean, but he's not," says Lev. "He's also the best cook."
"Is that bandana?" Ellie asks.
"Yep, that's him. Hector is mean, and a terrible cook. You probably ate something he made."
"I'll appreciate your guidance, then."
Abby's silent as they slowly make their way up the line, but Lev won't stop talking. He asks her about their journey. Ellie starts with a summary, but he asks for more and more detail. He pays pretty rapt attention.
Ellie's not sure how to figure him. He seems totally unassuming. He's also honest, to the point of bluntness.
"You promised to protect her? And you just left her there?" Ellie's stomach turns. She had just told him about Clara. She thought about leaving her out, but it hadn't seemed right, somehow. It's not a memory she's fond of. "Yes, Lev. We did. I didn't want to. And Clint promised her safety, not me. And if we had tried to protect her—"
"There's a good chance it would have gotten you killed." It's Abby. She looks at Lev. "It's hard, but that's what we would have done, too."
Lev frowns. "I'm not sure about that."
They finally get to the front of the line, and Ellie only takes things Abby or Lev take. They sit at an empty table at the back of the cafeteria.
Abby's pretty reticent, not looking at Ellie. Ellie doesn't blame her. Abby's face makes her feel some type of way. Ellie's trying to make this work, but it is not what she is good at. Lev, on the other hand, seems perfectly in his element.
"Do you have someone special waiting for you back in Jackson?" Lev asks.
Ellie blushes. "Not… not really."
"What happened?"
"Huh?" Ellie asks.
"If there were no one, you would have said no. But you said 'not really.'"
Ellie's blush deepens. What's with this kid? "I kind of messed up with her."
Lev blinks. "What did you do?"
"I left Jackson."
"Oh. Did you tell her why?"
"I did. She wasn't convinced."
"Oh. I understand. It's kind of hard to believe. Back in Seattle, we called the infected demons."
'We.' He's talking about the Scars, she can tell. That's why his cheeks are like that.
"Pretty fitting," Ellie says, taking a bite of mashed potatoes.
"We never imagined there could be something like a cure for it."
"I'm not sure I have either," Ellie admits.
"What about you, Abby?" Lev asks. "Have you thought about how things would be different with a cure?"
Abby's staring at her tray. Her forearms are resting on the table. She resists looking up. Ellie swallows. This is harder for Abby than she thought.
With obvious effort, Abby works her lips. "Not really." She sniffs. "Better, I guess." She hasn't eaten much of her food.
Abruptly, she gets up. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling great. I'm going to take my food back to my room."
Lev is obviously concerned, but he doesn't try to stop her. Without another glance their way, Abby pushes right through the double doors and out of sight.
Ellie's appetite has waned as well. She looks down at her green beans.
"Abby told me what she said to you yesterday," says Lev. Ellie looks up sharply. "We're very close, you know."
"Blood, practically," Ellie mumbles.
Lev seems to have heard her, and he nods. "We've seen a lot of that, too."
Ellie swallows again. What is she even doing here?
"And so have you. Haven't you, Ellie?"
The sounds in the cafeteria feel far away, now. Ellie finds herself breathing faster. She looks up at Lev, cautiously. He's wearing the same neutral expression. He's handsome, unjudging. Why does he feel kind of scary all of a sudden? She looks over her shoulder.
"No one else can hear us," says Lev. "I was hoping for a chance to talk with you alone, in fact."
Ellie feels cornered. Like a loose tooth, she decides. Better to pull it out all at once.
"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I've seen a lot of blood."
"Abby and I spent many nights alone together, on the boat. She told me many things about her past. But she only told me once. About Joel."
Ellie's eyes snap to him.
"She said it is her biggest regret."
The bottom kind of drops out of Ellie and she hears a ringing sound. Then she hears something else. A man's voice, in the distance. Screaming.
She feels something warm and it's Lev's hand, around hers. The one with missing fingers.
"We don't have to talk about that, Ellie. But there is something you need to know."
Aside from his scars, Lev's skin is so young, and smooth. He's practically a kid. How is he able to make her feel so helpless?
"You seem to have accepted Abby's forgiveness, and that is very good. But that is not all. It goes both ways."
Ellie blinks.
"It goes both ways, Ellie."
Suddenly nauseous, Ellie says something, she doesn't know what, about not feeling well and she abruptly gets up and walks out. She doesn't even take her tray.
A stick breaks under Ellie's foot. She pushes another branch out of her way. She can't really see very well under the tree cover in the moonlight, but she knows how to navigate the wild.
She hadn't even gone back to her room from the cafeteria. She'd gone to a window she'd spotted earlier that day, one she knew she could sneak out from based on the outside guard patterns. She'd snuck around some vehicles, and now she was outside the perimeter of the casino ballroom. She wasn't leaving. She just needed some space.
She hears another stick break and she jumps, but then she pushes on. She knows it's her head, fucking with her.
She's not in a good place.
Somehow, Lev had reached right into her past and brought all of the ugliness back to the surface. Like stirring up the bottom of a settled pond. Now everything's murky again.
"Ellie?" she hears someone call her. But she knows they're not real, because it's Jesse's voice.
She's shivering, but she's not cold. She finds herself wondering, insanely, how long she could stay out here, undiscovered. Forever, maybe.
It goes both ways, Ellie.
"The fuck do I care!" she screams. Some birds take flight from a nearby tree. Ellie almost stumbles over a loose stone. She pushes through more branches.
Abby forgave her. Apparently. Supposedly. Good for her. What the hell does Ellie have to be sorry for?
She doesn't say anything, but Ellie senses her. She looks over. Mel's face is just visible in the moonlight, a few feet away. She's staring at Ellie, incredulous, stunned. The same face she'd worn when she and Owen had first seen her.
She screams again, wordless. She pushes through another bush. She's panting. Scowling. Suddenly, she whimpers.
"What did I do wrong?" she asks no one.
She hears Jesse again, in the distance. "It's not about what you did."
She shakes her head, grimacing. She keeps on going. When she hears Jesse again, he's too far away to make out clearly. But she knows what he's saying.
It's about what Abby did.
Her chest is pounding. She can hear screams, always on the other side of a wall. She's been hearing them off and on since the caf. Like she always hears them, when things start to get heavy.
She makes a shuddering, gasping sound. She's crying now.
"No…" she groans. She feels like she's going to lose control. She doesn't want to lose control.
Then something just kind of snaps in her. And the night becomes silent.
She's standing there, trembling. She can feel it. She doesn't know what it is, but she knows it's the last thing in the world she wants to see. She looks up.
He's maybe ten feet away. In the shadow of a tree, she can only make out his outline. But if she could see his face, she knows it would be a bloody horror.
"You forgave me," he says, deep voice as clear as day.
She collapses to her knees, tears falling into the wet, dark loam.
Abby hadn't finished her food. It's growing cold, in her room, right now. Sometimes Abby just knows she needs to move her legs, so she walked right out the front doors. The guards had been uneasy, but she told them she was taking a walk in terms that brooked no further conversation.
She flexes her right arm. She's not angry, and she knows it, but sometimes it feels better to be angry than… the other thing.
As she's stomping down the road toward the beach, she sees someone coming up toward her. From his outline she recognizes Olsen. She turns her head, pinching her lips. She is not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, so she heads the conversation off.
"If you see Grayson, tell him I needed to take five." When she's about to pass him and she sees his surprised face, she realizes it's not Olsen at all. It's that kid Ellie brought with her. Clint.
They both stop, staring at each other.
"Uh…" he starts. "Okay."
Still surprised, she can't think of a response. But it's too late for her not to say anything. It's really awkward.
"I guess you're not infected after all," she says.
"Guess not." He says. He runs a hand over his other arms, the still healing cuts along them. "You know, when it happened, we ended up in the ocean, on the beach. Ellie pushed me into the water. She even held me under for a bit. Afterward, she said she was trying to wash it away." He chuckles and scratches the back of the head. "Didn't make a lot of sense, but maybe it worked."
Abby knows her eyes are wide. That particular piece of information is making her feel… she doesn't know what.
"Um…" Clint starts. "I wanted to say… I guess I wanted to say thanks for giving us the benefit of the doubt?"
Abby's brow pinches. "What?"
"I mean," he continues, "I know you guys have a history. Neither one of us expected to see you on that pier, obviously… I just feel like it could have gone a lot worse."
Abby makes a sound. Why the fuck is this happening? Why is any of this happening, like this?
"That's not really what's important now," she ends up saying.
Clint nods impotently.
"I gotta go," Abby says, continuing down the road.
"Abby," Clint says. She stops, turning. His mouth is open, like he wants to talk but the words aren't there yet.
"Ellie isn't bad," he spits out. "I know you think she is. And I know she's done a lot of bad things. More than I know about…" He looks down, massaging the palm of his hand with his thumb. "And sometimes I think she thinks she's bad… But she's not. I don't think she ever could be. I just don't…"
He looks up, screwing up his lips. "I've traveled with her for months. She's got edges, that's for sure. She's been cut up by an ugly world, and she's learned to survive in it like no one else I've ever met. She knows when to be fast, sneaky, hard, even cold. But she'll never be… bad. Otherwise, why would we have come all this way?"
He waits then, but Abby doesn't say anything.
"We almost died like a dozen times," he says. "It was her idea, you know. To find you guys. She wanted to go alone. Maria made her take me. And I don't regret a mile of it."
He sniffs. The breeze is light, and relatively warm that evening. The sun is finishing its setting, orange glow retreating over the hills above them.
In the end, Abby doesn't say anything. She turns and continues down the hill. When she looks back, some time later, Clint is gone.
Sometimes I think she thinks she's bad.
Why does that sound so fucking familiar?
Thankfully, there's no one on the beach. She marches down to the middle of it, and plunks down into the sand. She wraps her arms over her knees, and looks out over the water as the stars come out.
The sound of the waves, faithfully rushing up the sand toward her, ever receding, is peaceful. Reliable. A constant. Something only to be found in nature. Not in people. Abby takes a deep breath, trying to find her level again.
A lot of time passes. She doesn't really know how long. She accepted she'd be in trouble with Grayson a while ago. He told her to keep an eye on Ellie. He doesn't understand how complicated of an order that is. And she's doing a pretty shit job.
The moon is full tonight. It's drifting slowly out over the ocean in front of her. She rubs one of her thumbs over the other. It's been long enough. She gets up and turns back toward the ballroom, and Ellie is standing a few feet away up the beach.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Abby exclaims, jumping back.
Ellie's arms hang by her sides. Her eyes are kind of hooded, features slack. She looks…
Abby rubs her nose. Jesus Christ, she looks fucked up right now.
Ellie walks down through the sand in slow, plodding steps. She stops at a level with Abby, three feet away, looking down at the water with that hollow look on her face.
She's scaring the shit out of Abby.
"Ellie," Abby starts nervously. "You good?"
Ellie doesn't respond.
Abby's knees are slightly bent, hands out, diplomatic, defensive. "You're kind of freaking me out."
Ellie sniffs, glancing up at the moon.
Abby's brow furrows. "Ellie, are you armed right now?"
Ellie finally looks at her. It suggests absurdity. "You're that scared of me?"
"Yeah, well…" Abby doesn't finish. "Are you?"
Ellie reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. She offers it to Abby. It's a switchblade. Carefully, Abby takes it. When she looks down at in her hand in the moonlight, she knows it's the one she'd used to open Owen's throat.
"Joel was a bad man," Ellie says, looking over the water. "In a lot of ways."
The name makes Abby freeze. She stands there, watching.
"I know he thought he was bad, anyway. He started to turn things around in Jackson, but before that, he did some very bad things. I saw a lot of them with my own eyes. He taught me how to do them. And I know he did worse before he met me."
The wave pushes up over the sand, darkening it, receding.
"But he also saved my life." Ellie's lips are parted. She's staring at something a thousand miles away.
"He did it a few times, but there was one… there was one time. Really bad." Ellie brings her arms up, cradling herself. Her eyes widen, and her breathing quickens. "Sometimes it's blurry, fucked up. Sometimes it's crystal clear. It's crystal clear right now.
"David was on top of me. The building was burning. He said he was going to chop me up. He said he was going to… His eyes were…" Her face contorts, and she grimaces. "I've never felt anything so disgusting. Then I…" Most of her face goes slack, but her thousand yard stare is unbroken. She winces. "I did something even worse."
She takes a long shuddering breath. "As soon as it was done, and I dropped the machete, sticky in my hand, I knew. A person doesn't come back from that. That that is where I would die, in that flaming hell. That I would deserve to. And then all of a sudden, Joel was there, holding me.
"He told me he had me. He told me I would be okay. He called me 'baby girl.'" Her voice wavers.
Her arms tighten around her, then she lets them go.
"After that, it was done. We'd been separate, one and one. Now, it was the two of us, together. Forever."
She finally comes out of the spell, looking at Abby. There's no animosity. Just a blank expression. "He lied to me, about Saint Mary's."
Abby's limbs are cold. Her hands are trembling.
"He said they tried to make a cure and they couldn't. I knew he was lying, but what was I going to do? It was the two of us. Forever. He's all I had. So I just sat with it." She looks over the water again. The stars are all out. "I found out the truth years later."
"I didn't forgive him for a long time. I hadn't forgiven him when he died…"
A gust from the ocean rolls over them, tossing grains of sand from their little dunes.
Abby, you're done. End this.
And with Owen's words, as always, the screams.
Abby's left leg is shaking now. She can't stop it.
Ellie doesn't look at Abby, but she turns toward her a little. Her head tilts forward, hair falling, obscuring most of her face. Abby can see her lips pull back from her teeth, a little. It happens again. Then her mouth pulls into a full snarl. Her shoulders tense up. She reaches a point of maximum pressure, then she releases it. Ellie exhales, long and slow.
"That was the problem." Ellie's voice is gravelly. She looks up. "You were just the excuse. To be angry. So I didn't have to feel the other thing."
Ellie glances at something unseen, then her face completely contorts, and it makes Abby feel sick. Because she knows that feeling.
Anguish.
"So it had to be a lot of anger," said Ellie. "A lot. That's why I went to Seattle. That's why no one could stand in my way." There are tears in her eyes. She looks at Abby. "And I am so, fucking, sorry."
Abby's face is blank. The knife is clenched in a vice grip in her hand.
Ellie looks away. She grimaces as a tear rolls down her cheek. She works her mouth. Then she looks to the side, as if realizing something. She stops crying, but she doesn't wipe the tears away. Her brow pinches slightly. She looks down, and starts picking at her nails.
"And I know why you did it," she whispers.
Abby feels weak, then.
"My mom died when I was born. I never had anyone. Not until Joel. And when I lost him…" She trails off, then shakes her head. "But you lost yours first." She lets go of her other hand and her arms fall to her sides. "And Joel probably deserved to die." Her voice breaks.
"I don't—" Abby's voice is choked. She doesn't even know what she was going to say.
Ellie looks at her. She's dazed, she almost looks drunk. It's almost like… it's almost like she's looking at Abby for the first time.
"I don't—" Abby starts.
"I forgive you," Ellie says.
The words hit Abby's chest like a hammer, and she can't breathe for a second. Ellie looks her up and down, looking more lucid now. Then she walks over, takes the knife gently from her hand, and walks up the beach.
The waves keep coming, in their timeless rhythm. They're the only sound Abby hears for a long time. Thoughts try to get through, but nothing can really penetrate the pounding torrent running through her. She just keeps breathing. She just keeps breathing through it.
Eventually, one of the waves finally reaches far enough to lap her boot. She falls to one knee in the wet sand and finally begins to weep.