BEFORE
"Benji!" Chloe called out, panic rising in her voice as she awkwardly lifted his eyelids, unsure if she was even checking correctly for signs of life in a human.
They placed him on a twin bed in the basement next to a wood-burning stove and covered him in blankets. Benji was ghostly pale, with patches of frostbite, beginning to darken the tips of his ears and nose. His lips were cracked open, blue and purple, and trembling. There were bits of ice frozen to his eyebrows and lashes. He looked gaunt and starved, it looked like the man was vanishing in front of their very eyes.
"This—this is worse than…" Beca looked up at Chloe, who was frozen in shock. This was worse than when she got hypothermia. Chloe gingerly tried to examine him, but her hands were shaking. This wasn't an animal; this was so much more complicated.
Paula and Mary stood behind the girls, eyes wide with disbelief at the sight of the small, frail boy in their basement.
"We umm—" Chloe stammered, feeling paralyzed. This wasn't the same as treating an injured animal. She wondered if this was how she had looked to Beca that day, fragile and on the brink.
Beca noticing Chloe was struggling, stepped in, "We need to get his clothes off,"
Beca immediately pulled out her knife and got to work to cut off his clothes.
"Yes, we need more blankets, and um warm water and towels," Chloe said, seeing Beca get to work helped her snap out of it.
"You got it, I'll get more blankets," Paula said and started to head up the stairs,
"I'll get the warm water, and um tea."
"Could I get some more of that weird coffee?" Beca asked casually as she ripped apart his shirt.
"Really?" Chloe and Mary asked, surprised.
Beca shrugged, right now she welcomed the bitterness of the tar-colored brew, anything to get her mind off of what she was doing, "It's growing on me, besides…" Beca looking at the frail Treblemaker "If this is anything like last time, we're in for a long night."
Chloe looked at his fingers, noticing they were a dark shade of blue. "It looks like frostbite," she said hesitantly, her mind scrambling to remember if frostbite in humans needed the same care as in animals. "I think… second degree? But I don't know if it's the same as animals. If it gets worse, he could lose them, but I don't know how it works with people."
Chloe examined him carefully, her brow furrowing in concentration. Paula and Mary stood behind the girls in shock at the sight of the small, frail boy in their basement.
"This is really bad," Chloe whispered, more to herself than anyone else. She felt a familiar pang of frustration. This wasn't like working with animals; the signs were similar, but the stakes felt so much higher.
"Stand back, Chlo. I'm opening his shirt." Beca finished cutting it open, revealing the bruises and cuts covering Benji's frail body.
Both women gasped and took a step back. Benji wasn't just freezing to death, his torso was a roadmap of suffering. His skin was stretched thin over his ribs, he was skinny, malnourished, and covered in bruises, and cuts with frozen blood, and his abdomen was slightly distended.
Chloe covered her mouth and whispered, "Oh Benji… those are umm… Beca, I think those might be internal injuries. In animals, I mean, that's what I would think"But I don't know what to look for in a person. This is so out of my league, she thought, as she tried her hardest to stay calm.
"What do we do, Chlo?" Beca's eyes were wide, desperate for guidance.
Chloe stared blankly at Beca, she felt like a deer caught in headlights, she knew what to do with hypothermia, but internal injuries in a human? She was clueless.
"We should try and keep him warm," Chloe said, trying to keep her voice 's what I would do with an animal, but humans… I don't know, "That's all we can do for now, without proper medical equipment."
Beca nodded and moved quickly to cover him up. She had no idea what the boy had gone through to get here, but she wasn't about to let him freeze.
Chloe peered at his bruises for another second, noting the varying colors and stages of healing. "Some of these bruises are new, others… older," she muttered, more to herself. In her experience with animals, this could indicate trauma, but she wasn't sure about internal bleeding in humans.
"He might be bleeding inside," she said, her voice shaky. "I mean, that's what I would suspect with an animal,"We need someone who knows more about human medicine.
Chloe thought about it for a second and added, "We could try and keep a close eye on him, keep him breathing, keep him warm. Um if he stabilizes, maybe he might have a small chance."
"He's a Treble," Beca said softly, with a small smile that represented hope, "they are like cockroaches, they always pull through," Beca said softly.
"Got the blankets, and some towels, and a pail of warm water," Paula said as she came down the stairs and Mary following close behind added, "And I got tea, coffee, and chicken broth,"
"This is all perfect thank you guys," Chloe said, "We need to do this slowly, or…"
"He could go into shock," Paula finished for her.
Chloe looked at Paula, the woman probably had some medical training from her time in the military. She turned to Beca and said, "Dab the towel and slowly and gently pat him with it, starting from his limbs and working your way in,"
"Got it," Beca didn't question it, and immediately got to work doing exactly what Chloe asked. Mary sat nearby and helped Beca with the other side of the boy's body.
Chloe stood up, feeling her knees weak under the pressure of the situation, and walked over to Paula. "Can I talk to you real quick?
"Sure," They moved to the other side of the basement away from Beca and Mary's ears.
Once out of earshot, Paula said, "It's bad isn't it?"
Chloe deflated, she'd been holding back this whole time and the hopelessness of the situation was starting to show, "Yeah, I think— he's um… he's bleeding internally."
Paula's eyes widened, "He is? Shit. How in the hell?"
"Paula. I don't—" The helplessness in her voice was palpable. She was scared, not just for Benji, but for herself, for Beca, for all of them. The situation was spiraling out of control, and she felt powerless to stop it.
"I— I don't know what to do, Paula. This is way beyond anything I've ever dealt with." Chloe's eyes began to water and her lip quivered.
Paula placed a hand on Chloe's shoulder, "It's alright girl, you're doing your best, that's a hell of a lot more than most would do these days,"
Chloe sniffed and nodded, "That's all I can do… but I don't think it's going to be enough,"
"You don't think he'll pull through,"
"I don't know, but… without a real doctor, a hospital. I don't think so. Do you know—" Chloe asked with a hint of hope.
Paula shook her head, she knew what the girl was about to ask, "No, the nearest hospital is hours away, and there are no doctors around, honestly before you two came along, we didn't think there'd be anyone around for hundreds of miles."
Chloe deflated, "That's what I was worried about, but what about you? Did you learn medicine in the Army?"
"How to apply a tourniquet and apply an IV, none of which would be helpful right now."
Chloe deflated even more, "God, I guess… we'll just have to wait."
Paula, looking over at how careful Beca was caring for Benji asked, "Is your girl going to be alright?"
Chloe looked over at Beca and Mary carefully looking after the young man. She had been so preoccupied with the mechanics of caring for the young man that she hadn't considered the emotional ramifications seeing Benji like this would have on Beca. When Beca dated Jesse they would often spend time with Benji, he was a remnant of their past life, how would losing him affect her?
"He looks like a sweet boy," Mary commented softly, her hand gentle as she dabbed the warm compress over Benji's forehead.
Beca didn't look up, her focus entirely on the task at hand. But her eyes softened, a flicker of a smile tugging at her lips. "He is," she whispered. "He's a bit of a dork, but he's incredibly sweet. He'd tag along when Jesse and I would…" She trailed off, the memory of her ex-boyfriend still painful to revisit.
"Jesse?" Mary asked, curiosity piqued.
"My ex-boyfriend," Beca explained briefly, not wanting to delve into the details. It was too much to think about right now. "Anyway, Benji was always there, even when we told him not to come. He just…he had this way of showing up. But I never really cared though, he was just annoyingly nice." Beca said with a soft smile.
Mary chuckled and then her eyes softened, a distant look crossing her face. "He reminds me of my son," she said quietly. Beca glanced up at her, surprised by the raw emotion in Mary's voice.
"Your son?" Beca asked softly, not wanting to pry but feeling a sudden connection with the older woman.
Mary nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "He left when he joined the military," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Cut off all contact, just…disappeared. We haven't heard from him in years." She paused, looking down at Benji. "He looks so much like him…so much."
Beca didn't know what to say. She could feel the sadness radiating from Mary, the deep, aching void that her son had left behind.
Mary shook her head, trying to shake off the emotion. "I need to go make dinner," she said, her voice shaky as she stood up. "Paulie, keep an eye on him, will you?"
Paula nodded, her expression softening as she watched Mary start to walk away.
Suddenly, Beca felt a faint twitch under her hand. She froze, staring down at Benji's face. His eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, she wasn't sure if she had imagined it. But then, slowly, painfully, Benji's eyes opened.
"Benji?" Beca whispered, leaning in closer. His gaze was unfocused at first, but then it settled on her, recognition dawning in his eyes.
"Beca…" His voice was barely a whisper, raspy and weak, but it was unmistakable. He was awake. He was alive.
Tears welled up in Beca's eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. "Yeah, it's me. You're safe now, Benji. We've got you."
Hearing Beca's voice, Chloe turned around, her conversation with Paula forgotten. "Benji!" she exclaimed, rushing over to his side. She knelt beside him, her hands hovering over his, afraid to touch him too harshly in his fragile state.
Benji's eyes shifted to Chloe, and a faint, weary smile tugged at the corners of his cracked lips. "Chloe… you're alright too… Thank the force."
"We're okay, Benji," Chloe reassured him, her voice soft but trembling. "We're all okay."
But Benji's smile quickly faded, replaced by a look of sheer terror. He tried to sit up, but his body was too weak, too battered. "No… no, you're not safe," he gasped, his breath hitching in his throat.
"Benji, what do you mean?" Beca asked, her heart pounding in her chest. She could see the fear in his eyes, and it sent a chill down her spine.
"He's coming," Benji whispered, his voice barely audible, but the fear in it was palpable.
"Who's coming?" Chloe pressed, her own fear beginning to rise.
"Tommy… Tommy's coming," Benji managed to say, each word a struggle. "I… I slowed them down… messed with their trucks… bought time, but they'll be here… soon."
Paula, who had been standing a few steps back, immediately stepped forward, her expression turning grim. She had no idea what the boy was talking about, but right now, she needed to focus on the important details. "How much time we got kid?"
Benji's eyes fluttered closed again as exhaustion pulled at him, but he forced them open, his gaze locking onto Paula's. "A day… maybe less…" His voice cracked on the last word, and he gasped for breath, his body trembling with the effort.
"Shh, Benji, don't talk anymore," Chloe soothed, gently stroking his hair. "You need to rest now. You've done enough."
But Benji shook his head weakly, his eyes wide with panic. "You don't understand… he's dangerous… he'll kill us all…"
"Benji, calm down," Beca said, her voice breaking. She was trying to stay strong, but seeing Benji like this was tearing her apart. "We'll handle it, okay? Just rest now. Please."
"Hold on girl," Paula said as she stepped closer, her eyes now filled with anger, "Is that the man who did this," she asked, gesturing at the myriad of bruises on his body.
Benji's eyes looked towards the distance, and he whispered, "Some… but on my way over, I crashed the snowmobile"
"You got in an accident?" Chloe asked.
"I'm not good at riding those things, and… the blizzard… I lost control." He could still see it, he was riding hard through the blizzard, his visibility almost zero, and then veering off, losing control, and falling down a hill. But he also remembered what Tommy did to him that night, what he made him do, and that hurt far worse than hitting every branch, and every jagged rock as he tumbled down that steep hill. That memory hurt him more than the miles he had to walk through the blizzard.
Benji's body finally gave in to the exhaustion, his eyes closing as he fell back into a fitful sleep. His breathing was shallow, but it was steady.
Chloe and Beca exchanged a look, their hearts heavy with the weight of Benji's warning. They looked over at Paula, whose eyes had grown colder. She pointed upstairs, and she and Mary walked up the stairs. Beca and Chloe followed in silence.
In the kitchen, Paula, Mary, and Beca sat around the kitchen table. The tension was almost suffocating. Chloe was the last to join them, her footsteps heavy as she sank into a chair next to Beca. Beca looked up at her, her voice barely above a whisper, "How's he doing?"
"He's out cold, and he's in bad shape…" Chloe replied, her voice laced with worry.
Paula took a deep breath, her mind already running through the possibilities. "Right, here's what I reckon so far. Boy's been runnin' with a bunch of bad hombres, the same ones that messed with y'all. When me and Mary took care of business, they started talkin' 'bout coming over. Boy heard about it and ran to warn us, leading to him crashin' and freezing to death and getting beat to hell."
Mary nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Beca looked between Chloe and Paula, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack," Paula said, her voice grim. "Could be wrong, but… that boy downstairs took a hell of a beatin' to get here. That alone says plenty."
"So you're saying out there, there's a bunch of men coming down here for what? Vengeance or some stupid shit like that?" Beca's voice was rising, frustration and fear mingling.
"Tale as old as time," Paula replied, her tone flat but weary.
"This is ridiculous," Beca said, her hands clenching into fists. "Don't we have enough to worry about? Now we have to deal with some walking piece of toxic masculinity?"
"Not that unusual, really," Mary said quietly, her eyes downcast. "Only thing that tends to keep stuff like this from happenin' is the law. And… either there's no such thing anymore, or they're too busy elsewhere to come all the way out here."
Chloe buried her face in her hands, trying to process the situation. She reached for the shot of whiskey on the table, downing it in one gulp. "This is insane…"
"We need to run. We can't stay here and wait for them to show up. We need to get out of here, now." Beca said hurriedly.
Chloe nodded, her hands wrapped tightly around her mug as if trying to draw warmth from it. "Beca's right. We can't just sit here. We have to go."
Mary, who had been staring into her coffee as if it held the answers to all their problems, finally looked up. "I agree, Paulie, we need to leave while we still can."
But Paula, ever the pragmatist, shook her head, her gaze fixed out the frosted window. "And go where, exactly? The Subaru's dead, it's not going anywhere. That leaves us with my old sedan, which won't make it through more than a foot of snow before it gets stuck. We'll be lucky if it gets us a mile down the road."
"Then we take the horses," Chloe suggested, "We can ride out of here. I can ride!"
Paula turned to her, her expression hard. "We have two horses, Chloe. Just two and that boy's in no shape to travel, and even if he was, he can't ride. He's too weak. We could tie him to a sled or some such, but… if he's bleeding internally, the trip might kill him. And that's assuming we don't get hit by another blizzard."
"We can walk!" Beca said, not entirely certain, "Maybe we can find another car or a truck on the road!"
Paula shook her head, her tone firm but not unkind. "Girl, you're talkin' about going out there, in below-freezing weather, hopin' you find a vehicle that's runnin', has fuel, and can drive through this snow? That's a death wish."
"Then what the hell else are we supposed to do?" Beca's voice cracked, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. "We can—"
Chloe shook her head, her voice soft and haunted. "When I first drove up to the cabin, I thought I could make it… I remember thinking… I'm young… I'm strong… I can totally walk a mile in the blizzard… I'll be fine…" Her words trailed off, the memory still fresh and painful. "We can't go out there on foot. Not like this. Not with Benji in his condition."
Beca fell silent, the memory of that day flashing in her mind. The sight of Chloe, frozen and weak, still haunted her. She had barely made it out of that storm alive—how could they expect to do any better now?
Beca's eyes softened, the memory of finding Chloe like that still fresh in her mind. Chloe was right. Going out there was suicide. But staying here… the alternative was terrifying too.
"Then that means…" Beca started, her voice hollow as she realized her only alternative.
"I hate to say it, girl, we don't have a choice, Beca. We're going to have to make a stand. We're going to have to fight." Paula said, her voice cold and factual.
"Fight?" Beca laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and edged with hysteria. "This isn't like some fuckin' western, Paula. Stay and fight… We're not gunfighters, this isn't the OK Corral. Jesus Christ, do you hear yourself?"
Chloe buried her face in her hands, her mind reeling from everything that was happening. This wasn't a movie, this wasn't a bad dream. This was their reality now.
"Listen, kid," Paula said, her voice steady and direct, "this isn't a damn movie. I wish it was. I wish we could just ride off into the sunset, but we can't. We have to make a stand here, and it's going to be messy. You don't have to like it. Hell, I don't like it. But it's what we've got."
"The sunset?" Beca scoffed, looking up at her with tired eyes. "When's the last time you even watched a movie, Paula?" Snark Beca's ever-trusty defense mechanism when she was feeling out of her depth.
"My point is, smart-ass," Paula continued, her tone softening, "in real life, the hero is the one who makes the ultimate sacrifice to save everyone." She pointed down towards the basement. "And it's up to us to make sure his sacrifice won't be for nothin'."
"Don't talk about him like that!" Beca snapped, her voice breaking. "He's notsacrificin'himself! He's gonna make it!"
"What if… maybe," Chloe's voice was hesitant, filled with a quiet desperation. "Maybe we could talk to them? Maybe we could reason with them? Maybe they're not all bad."
Everyone went quiet and looked at Chloe, baffled.
"Why do you think Benji risked his life to warn us? He nearly died in that storm, just to get here and tell us that those men are dangerous. If they weren't, do you think he would've bothered? And what do you think they'll do when they find him here? You think they'll be all honky-dory about him fuckin' up their trucks?"
Beca opened her mouth to argue but stopped, the harsh reality hitting her like a freight train. "I… I hadn't considered that," she admitted, her voice small and scared.
Chloe shrunk a little, embarrassed at her own naivete.
Paula leaned forward, her exhaustion evident in every line of her face. "Look… I ain't happy about this either. I've been in firefights, and it's not like the movies. It's scary, it's fast, and people—usually innocent people—get hurt. I don't want that. I just don't think we have a choice."
"We don't… do we?" Beca whispered, finally accepting the gravity of their situation.
"That's the gist of it," Paula said, her voice tinged with regret.
Beca exhaled shakily, running a hand through her hair. "Awesome."
The room was heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and grim realities. There was no easy way out, no simple solution. They were trapped, and the only way through was to fight.
Mary finally stood, her voice calm and steady, though her hands trembled slightly. "I'm going to start on dinner. We'll need our strength."
The women watched as the older woman walked away, her trembling visible.
"We don't even know how many of them there are," Beca said, her voice trembling. "Or how well they're armed."
"We know enough," Paula replied, her voice firm. "Boy gave us a little time."
Chloe, who had been quiet for a while, finally spoke up, her voice trembling with fear. "Paula… what if we can't stop them?"
Paula's eyes softened as she looked at Chloe. "We'll have to," she said, her voice resolute. "We'll have to."
"But we're outnumbered," Chloe whispered, her voice barely audible.
"And outgunned," Beca added, feeling absolutely ridiculous that she was even saying those words.
Paula nodded grimly though she had the guns and the ammo, but looking at the girls she wasn't sure they had it in them to fight.
Chloe, her voice breaking a little bit said. "I'm—I'm going to go check on Benji."
A heavy silence fell over them as they each contemplated the grim reality of their situation. There was no easy way out, no heroic escape. Just a cold, brutal fight for survival.
Beca and Chloe spent most of the night beside Benji, their bodies pressed close to his to keep him warm. Chloe would periodically check his pulse, her fingers trembling slightly as she felt for the faint, fluttering beat. Beca, on the other hand, stared at Benji with a faraway look in her eyes, her thoughts drifting somewhere else entirely. She was seeing Benji, but in her mind, she was lost in memories of a time before everything had fallen apart. Chloe noticed this, and it worried her deeply.
Throughout the night, Benji faded in and out of consciousness. At times, he was still, his breath shallow and labored. At others, he was gripped by bouts of shivering, his body wracked with violent tremors. During those moments, Beca and Chloe would hold him gently, whispering softly to him, trying to calm him down. Beca didn't know if Benji was haunted by nightmares or if his condition was simply that bad, but she didn't care. All she wanted was for him to get better. Chloe, however, was increasingly concerned about Beca. Every time she looked at her, she saw the strain etched into her features, the fear lurking behind her eyes.
Paula couldn't stand it anymore. The constant churn of her thoughts and the gnawing worry wouldn't let her rest. She slipped out of bed, wrapped herself in a robe, and quietly made her way down to the basement. As she descended the stairs, she could see the soft glow of the lanterns casting long shadows across the room.
Beca had finally drifted off to sleep, her head leaning gently against Benji's shoulder. The sight of her made Paula's heartache. She looked so small and vulnerable, so different from the tough, determined young woman Paula had come to know. Chloe, however, was still awake, her eyes heavy with exhaustion but alert. When she noticed Paula coming down the stairs, she carefully slipped out of bed and checked Benji's pulse again, her relief palpable when she felt the steady, albeit faint, rhythm beneath her fingertips.
"How's he doing?" Paula whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.
Chloe sighed her expression a mixture of hope and concern. "It's too early to tell. I think he might have a chance if he makes it through the night, but I'm really just guessing. His pulse is weak, but it's steady. I wish I knew more about treating humans."
Paula nodded, her gaze lingering on Benji for a moment before she turned to look at Beca, still curled up against him. There was something about the way Beca held onto him even in her sleep that tugged at Paula's heartstrings. "And how about her?" Paula asked softly, her eyes flicking back to Chloe.
Chloe glanced at Beca, her own worry evident. "She's been so strong, but… I'm really worried about her, Paula. Um you see, Benji was Jesse's best friend, and he would always hang around them when they were dating… kinda like a puppy," Chloe said with a sad smile.
Paula smiled, she had no idea who Jesse was but she could surmise from context that it was her ex.
"She's been through so much already, and if we lose Benji… I don't know what it'll do to her."
Paula's expression hardened slightly, though her eyes remained soft with concern. "Beca's a tough gal, but she's not invincible. We all have our breaking points."Same as I do.
Chloe nodded, her voice trembling slightly. "She's been staring at him all night like she's seeing ghosts or something. I think it's bringing back a lot of memories… it's making her worry about …" Chloe felt the very foreign and very stupid sensation of jealousy because she knew Beca was worried about Jesse, "Well, stuff she's not ready to deal with."
Paula sighed, running a hand through her hair as she processed Chloe's words. She had no idea what to say.
Chloe whispered, her resolve hardening. "Paula, I don't want to fight. Neither does Beca, but if we have to… can you promise me you'll look after her?"
Paula offered her a small, appreciative smile. "Of course."You're one hell of a woman red. That girl's insanely lucky.
Chloe smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you."
Paula moved closer, gently placing a hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Why don't you get some rest? I'll stay with him for a while. You've done more than enough tonight."
Chloe hesitated, glancing back at Benji and Beca, but the exhaustion was pulling at her, and she knew she wasn't doing anyone any good if she was too tired to think straight. "Okay," she finally relented, "but wake me if anything changes."
"I will," Paula promised. "Now go on, get some sleep."
Chloe gave her a grateful nod, then quietly slipped back to where Beca and Benji were lying. She carefully nudged Beca, who protested half-heartedly but let herself be led upstairs by a doting Chloe.
Paula watched the adorable couple walk away. She wasn't sure what the next day would bring, but she knew one thing for certain, she'd do everything in her power to protect these kids.
She settled into a chair beside the bed, her hand resting gently on Benji's arm, and kept watch.
She looked down at him, this fragile figure wrapped in blankets, struggling for each breath. The sighed tugged at her heart. In her eyes, this young man was more like a child, barely out of boyhood, lying there broken and vulnerable.
Paula sighed and shook her head, she didn't want her thoughts to stay on a road that she wouldn't be able to get out of. She was just about to turn away when she noticed a flicker of movement. Benji's eyes fluttered open, the deep brown of his irises barely visible beneath his heavy eyelids. He stared up at her, unfocused at first, but then a flicker of recognition crossed his face.
"You… have a cool hat," Benji whispered, his voice so faint it was almost lost in the crackling of the wood stove.
Paula blinked, surprised by his words. "What?" she asked, leaning in a little closer, not sure she had heard him right.
"Your hat," Benji repeated, his voice slightly stronger this time. "I like it. Reminds me… of something from the old westerns."
A small smile tugged at the corners of Paula's lips. She wasn't expecting that. "This ol' thing?" she said, reaching up to touch the brim of her cowboy hat. "Ain't nothing special, just a hat."
Benji's lips twitched into a weak smile, his eyes drifting closed again. "It's cool…"
Paula chuckled softly, a sound that was more of a release of tension than amusement. "You think so, huh?" Without really thinking, she took off the hat and gently placed it on Benji's head. It was a little awkward because Benji was lying down and the hat was too big for him, slipping down almost to his eyes, but he looked up at her from beneath it with a sleepy smile.
"How… do I look?" He wheezed.
"Like a real cowboy," Paula said, her voice becoming shaky.
A memory hit her like a lightning bolt, something she had tried so hard to keep locked away. A million years ago, or so it felt, she had done the same thing for her son. He was just a little boy then, running around the yard, trying to be just like his mom, shooting his cowboy cap guns. She remembered lifting him sitting him on his lap and placing her hat on his head. Just as she was doing now, Her son, and Benji had that same look in their eyes, innocent joy. The memory rattled her to her core.
"You know… old westerns actually have a lot in common with Star Wars." He whispered with a faint smile and an almost flicker of passion.
Paula smiled she could tell that this was important to him, and he looked like he really wanted to talk about this.
"I didn't, why don't you tell me all about it,"
Even in his weakened state, Benji was so excited to talk about Star Wars and he talked softly and slowly, and though it hurt he enjoyed telling the woman all about the similarities between Westerns and Star Wars.
He talked until his eyes fluttered closed, and he fell asleep, a gentle smile on his face. He hadn't talked about his beloved franchise in so long.
Paula stayed where she was, looking at the boy wearing her hat.
She stared at him for a long time, listening to the sound of his labored breathing, feeling a shift inside her that she hadn't anticipated. Maybe Mary was right. Maybe this boy did remind her of their son.
A tear ran down the hardened combat veteran, experienced cowgirl's cheek. She wiped it away quickly and reached out, gently removing the hat off his head, "You umm… you hang in there kid," she whispered as she held back a sob. "We're gonna get through this. I promise." She knew better, of course, she knew that promises made on the eve of war were never a good idea.
She settled back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Benji. She pulled out her revolver and absentmindedly cleaned it as she kept watch over him as the night slowly crept by.
Morning came, and the snow had finally let up. As Tommy and his men started to load up the trucks, a large man appeared, blocking their path. The sheer size of him made the vehicles seem small in comparison, and Tommy's heart pounded in his chest as he saw the massive figure standing fearlessly before the convoy. The man was a legend among them, known simply as the Mountain Man.
Tommy hesitated for a moment, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He peeked his head out the window, his voice trembling slightly as he said, "Sir… we—"
But the Mountain Man cut him off with a voice as deep and unyielding as the mountains themselves. "Tommy, a word please," he said, turning his back to the trucks and making his way up the hill toward his cabin at the top. His footsteps were heavy, each one leaving a deep impression in the snow.
The men exchanged nervous glances, their faces pale. The Mountain Man's word was law, and disobeying him wasn't an option. He took Tommy in and his brother, when they were looking for shelter from the snow. He allowed them to bring their families. It didn't take long for his land to be filled with men and women seeking refuge from the snow. They were guests in his land.
They looked to Tommy for guidance, their expressions filled with a mix of concern and expectation.
Tommy swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their gazes on him. He knew he had no choice. "Just wait here," he muttered, his voice strained. "I'll talk to him."
He climbed out of the truck, his boots crunching in the snow as he followed the path the giant had made.
The climb up the hill had become symbolic to the men; for some, it was a journey toward understanding, a chance to receive the Mountain Man's wisdom or his mission. For some, it was a test, a chance to prove yourself worthy.
But for all, it was an honor.
For Tommy, who had made the climb more times than he cared to admit, it felt like a slow march toward judgment.
This time, there was no thrill, no sense of pride. Only the sinking feeling of a naughty schoolboy on his way to the principal's office, awaiting whatever punishment might come.
As he trudged up the hill, Tommy's mind raced.
Who the fuck told on me?He cursed.
For the most part, the Mountain Man didn't get involved in the day-to-day operations, he was more a teacher, a philosopher, a man who preached but was no preacher. He came down, he talked, and they listened.
Off the corner of his eye, he spotted movement and turned just in time to catch sight of Bumper, half-hidden behind a bush. Their eyes met for a second before Bumper ducked out of sight.
That was all Tommy needed to know. It was Bumper, the Little Bear, he snitched.
His jaw clenched as he continued the climb, as he envisioned ways to get back to the ridiculous man-child they kept around for their amusement, and because his niece April thought he was funny.
As the cabin came into view, Tommy took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.
The morning light filtered through the curtains of the farmhouse, casting a soft glow over the kitchen. It was still cold inside of the house but it was bearable, the only source of heat coming from the fireplace.
Beca sat at the table, her hands wrapped around a ceramic mug of chicory coffee. The smell was earthy and pungent, it did not smell like those Pumpkin Spice Lattes that she and Chloe used to get a lifetime ago. She took a tentative sip, the bitter, almost burnt wood taste hitting her tongue. It was still gross, but oddly, she found herself warming up to it. Drinking it felt like embracing the harsh brutality of their new reality, it felt like embracing the darkness.
The door creaked open, and Mary walked in, carrying a tray with a simple breakfast. She set it down on the table—a couple of bowls of oatmeal, some toast, and a small dish of what looked like canned fruit. "Morning," Mary said, her voice tired but steady. "Hope you're hungry. It's not much, but it'll keep us going."
Beca nodded, offering a small sincere smile. She would never get used to the kindness of the woman, "Thanks, Mary. It's more than enough."
Mary sat down across from her, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Chicory's growing on you, huh?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.
"Something like that," Beca replied, taking another sip, and with a grimace added,. "It's… an acquired taste."
"I could never stomach that stuff," Mary said as she wrinkled her nose.
Interrupting them, the basement door creaked open, and Chloe emerged, looking pale and exhausted. She rubbed her eyes as she made her way to the table, her expression a mix of relief and worry.
"Benji made it through the night," Chloe said, her voice soft but filled with an undercurrent of hope. "His heartbeat is still faint, and the bruising's bad, but… he's alive. He's a fighter."
Beca exhaled, "That's something, at least," she said, glancing at Mary, who looked equally relieved.
Chloe grabbed Beca's mug, a little playfully and took a sip before spitting out the bitter brew, "Jesus! Is this what you've been drinking this whole time?"
Beca grinned and said, "Yes?"
"Good lord Beca! I have no idea how you can drink this!"
"I mean after those military ravioli things, this is heaven," Beca joked.
For a second all four women shared a small laugh, it cleared the tension in the room.
After the laughter died down Chloe added, "Anyway I'll stay with him today, keep monitoring him."
Mary reached across the table and squeezed Chloe's hand. "I'll stay too. We'll keep him comfortable."
Beca exchanged a glance with Paula, who had been quietly sipping her coffee in the corner. Paula gave a slight nod. "We'll go out and shoot some cans again. Keep sharp. It's good practice, and we could both use the distraction."
"Just be careful," Mary said, her tone gentle but firm.
"We will," Beca promised, finishing off the last of her coffee and setting the mug down with a small clink. She stood up, giving Chloe a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You'll call us if anything changes with Benji?"
"Of course," Chloe replied, her voice a bit stronger now. "Just… take care of yourselves out there."
Beca nodded, and with that, she and Paula grabbed their gear and headed out. Beca looked back at Chloe, who gave her a warm and tired smile before mouthing the words "I love you."
Beca smiled sheepishly and gave her a nod, and left.
Tommy descended the hill slowly, each step heavier than the last. The conversation with the Mountain Man played over and over in his mind, like a sermon that had been beaten into him, not with fists but with words. His body moved almost mechanically, but deep inside, something felt different—cracked, maybe even broken. He couldn't put a name to it, but he knew that something fundamental had shifted.
As he reached the bottom, the convoy of trucks came into view, their dark silhouettes stark against the snow-covered ground. The men stood in a tight cluster, their faces tense, waiting for Tommy to return. They knew something was wrong—the way Tommy had been summoned, the way he was now coming back with his head low and his shoulders slumped.
He stepped into their circle, and they looked at him expectantly. Tommy could feel their eyes on him, searching his face for answers, for orders.
"We're standing down," Tommy announced, his voice steady but devoid of its usual fire. Johnny let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, nodding slowly. He felt relieved, he thought this whole thing was ridiculous to begin with, he'd followed Tommy out of a sense of duty to his friend, but a part of him knew, it was mostly out of fear.
Tommy caught Johnny's eye and gave him a slight nod, signaling him to follow. The two of them stepped away from the group, moving to the edge of the clearing where the snow muffled their steps, and the wind carried away their voices.
"Johnny," Tommy began, his voice low, "we're not done. Not by a long shot."
Johnny's brow furrowed in confusion and trying his hardest to hide his disappointment asked, "But you just said—"
"I know what I said," Tommy cut in, his tone sharper now, but still quiet enough that the others wouldn't hear. "We're standing down for now, at least while the Mountain Man's got his eyes on us. But this isn't over. We're still going after them—those bitches. We're just gonna be smart about it."
"Smart about it? How so?"
"Fewer men, just enough to get the job done and sneak out quietly, get the guys you trust the most, the ones that will shut the fuck up and do as they're told. We won't be able to get all the trucks, five of them will have to do, and one of the special ones."
Johnny looked at Tommy, searching his friend's face for something—anything—that would make sense of what he was hearing. But Tommy's expression was hard, determined, and unyielding. Johnny swallowed hard and nodded. "Alright, Tommy. Whatever you say, man."
Tommy's eyes flicked back to the group of men by the trucks, then back to Johnny. His voice dropped even lower and dangerous, "And Johnny… there's something else. We've got a snitch among us. Someone ran up to the Mountain Man, and spilled their guts."
Johnny's eyes widened, and he glanced toward the men. "You got an idea who?"
Tommy's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I know exactly who it was."
Chloe sighed softly, her fingers gently brushing a lock of Benji's hair away from his forehead. The weight of the coming fight pressed down on her, a knot tightening in her chest. "How do you do it, Mary? How do you stay so calm with everything that's coming?"
Mary glanced over at Chloe, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Calm?" She chuckled softly. "Maybe I'm just good at pretending."
Chloe shook her head, leaning back against the wall. "No, it's more than that. You've got this… confidence. Like you know exactly what's going to happen and how to handle it."
Mary was silent for a moment, her gaze drifting back to Benji. "I trust my Paulie. She's been through worse, and she knows what she's doing. And as for me…" She paused, a thoughtful look in her eyes. "My daddy taught me a lot. He fought in Vietnam, Special Forces. A real tough bastard. He used to say, 'A hunter needs to understand more than just the prey—they need to understand the land, the weather, even the mind of their enemy.' He drilled that into me from a young age."
Chloe listened intently, the pieces starting to fall into place. "So that's where you get it from. Your dad."
Mary nodded. "He taught me to hunt, to track, and to shoot straight. But more than that, he taught me to think ahead and to always have a plan. Said it wasn't just about being the best shot—it was about knowing when and where to take the shot, and when to hold back." She hesitated, then continued, "He'd tell me stories, things he did and saw over there. I think he wanted me to understand what it meant to survive, to protect the people you care about, no matter what."
Chloe looked down at Benji, her expression softening. "That's what this is about, isn't it? Protecting the people we care about."
Mary's voice was gentle as she replied, "That's all it's ever been about. You and I… we're not fighters in the traditional sense. But when it comes to protecting the ones we love, we do what we have to. And even with my Parkinsons, I won't hesitate to pull that trigger if it means keeping you kids, or my Paulie safe."
Chloe nodded slowly as she thought about the deer and the wolves. Mary smiled softly, a look of understanding in her eyes. "That's the thing about love, Chloe. It makes you do things you never thought you were capable of. And that's where our strength comes from—not from training or tactics, but from that fierce need to protect what's ours."
Chloe looked down, absorbing Mary's words.A fierce need to protect what's ours.
They weren't soldiers, they were something else, something just as powerful—protectors. She nodded again, that felt right and the tension in her chest finally eased just a bit.
Suddenly, they heard a commotion upstairs, followed by Beca's frustrated voice. "I told you, I'm not a fucking soldier!" she yelled, stomping into the house. Paula's voice followed, sharp with urgency, "Beca, come back!"
Before Chloe could react, Beca stormed down the stairs into the basement, her boots hitting the wooden steps with a force that echoed through the small space. Her face was scrunched into a deep scowl, warning everyone to steer clear.
"How's he doing?" Beca asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Chloe exchanged a quick glance with Mary before answering, her voice tinged with disappointment. "Same as this morning. He's hanging in there, but his internal injuries aren't healing as fast as we'd hoped."
Beca nodded, her jaw tightening. She hated feeling this helpless, hated that there was nothing she could do for Benji except wait. The frustration was bubbling just beneath the surface, and it didn't take much to set her off today.
"Where's Paulie?" Mary asked, her tone gentle, sensing the tension in Beca.
Beca shrugged, the motion more aggressive than casual. "Outside. I needed a break."
Mary's eyes narrowed slightly in understanding. Paula must have really gotten under Beca's skin. "I'll go check on her," she said, pushing herself up from the chair with a small sigh. Mary gave Beca's arm a reassuring squeeze as she passed by, a silent acknowledgment that she understood, and then she climbed the stairs, leaving the basement.
Once Mary was gone, the room seemed to shrink, the tension thickening the air. Beca hesitated for a moment before she moved closer to Chloe, who was still sitting beside Benji, her eyes fixed on his pale face. Without a word, Beca slipped behind her, wrapping her arms around Chloe's waist and resting her head on Chloe's back. The warmth of Chloe's body against hers was grounding, pulling her back from the edge of whatever abyss she felt herself teetering on.
Chloe didn't say anything at first, just let Beca hold her, feeling the tension radiate from her like a live wire. After a few moments, she finally spoke, her voice soft and gentle. "So, what really happened?"
"Paula pissed me off," Beca grumbled, her words muffled against Chloe's back.
Chloe turned her head slightly, glancing over her shoulder at Beca. "How come?"
Beca let out a frustrated sigh, tightening her hold on Chloe. "I don't know… she just got really aggro with me. It freaked me out. Like… worse than Aubrey used to."
Chloe raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in her voice. "Is that even possible?"
"Apparently," Beca muttered, her voice laced with bitterness. "I know she was just trying to get me ready, but… damn, Chloe, it was like she was trying to turn me into something I'm not. I'm not a soldier. I'm not a gunfighter. I just… I just wanted to blow off some steam, and not think for a second you know?"
Chloe nodded, understanding washing over her. Mary's words about being protectors resonated with her as she listened to Beca. "You don't have to be a soldier, Beca," Chloe said quietly. "You don't have to be anything you're not. But I think… Paula's just scared too. She's trying to protect us in the only way she knows how."
Beca closed her eyes, letting Chloe's words sink in. "I know," she whispered. "But it's just… I've never been good with people pushing me like that. It's why Aubrey and I never really clicked, you know? And Paula… she just hit all the wrong buttons."
Chloe turned in Beca's arms, wrapping her own arms around Beca's shoulders and pulling her close. She realized that providing comfort and understanding to Beca in this moment was one of the many ways she protected her favorite cute grumpy DJ. "I'm sorry, baby. That sounds rough. Don't worry the mean cow… girl? Cow-woman? Whatever, she can't get to you here. I got you."
Beca relaxed slightly in Chloe's embrace, and chuckled, feeling a little silly, the tension in her shoulders easing a little. "Thanks, Chlo. I really needed to hear that."
Somewhere miles from the far, in the camp on the Mountain Man's land, Bumper hesitated at the entrance to the large tent, the flaps swaying slightly in the breeze. He had been called here by one of the men—something about needing help with supplies. It didn't sit right with him, but he didn't want to raise any suspicions by refusing. With a nervous swallow, he stepped inside.
The tent was dimly lit, the shadows long and oppressive. The smell of damp earth and canvas filled the space. Bumper took a few cautious steps forward, his eyes struggling to adjust to the low light. That's when he saw him—Tommy—standing in the center of the tent, his face a mask of cold fury.
"Tommy?" Bumper's voice wavered, coldness overcame him, and he knew what this was about.
Tommy just stood there, staring at Bumper with a look that made his blood run cold. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled, and terrifying. "You know why you're here,Little Bear?" He mocked.
Bumper's heart pounded in his chest. "Tommy, I—I don't—"
"Yes, you do!" He barked with violent fury and Bumper took a step back, his face contorted into a ridiculous over-the-top expression of fear. His legs nearly gave out beneath him, and he held up his hands in a desperate plea. "Tommy, please! I didn't— I—I gave April my food, remember? You sent her, she needed it more than me, and I did it. I listened to you!"
Tommy paused, tilting his head slightly as if considering Bumper's words. A cruel smile spread across his face, and he let out a low, humorless chuckle. "Yeah, And that's exactly why I'm not going to touch you."
For a brief moment, Bumper felt a flicker of hope, a glimmer of relief and he exhaled. But then, out of the darkness behind Tommy, four men stepped forward, their faces obscured by the shadows. They moved slowly, deliberately, like predators circling their prey.
Tommy's smile twisted into something far more sinister. "But I can't promise they won't."
Bumper's eyes widened in horror as the men advanced on him. He backed up until his legs hit the side of a cot, nearly tripping over it. "Tommy, please! Don't do this!"
Tommy crossed his arms, and just watched, his face cold and uncaring.
The last thing Bumper saw before the first punch landed was Tommy's icy gaze, unblinking and unmoved. The blows came hard and fast.
The men were ruthless, but they were also controlled, making sure not to leave permanent damage—just enough to make sure Bumper would never forget this night.
Bumper's cries of pain and pleas for mercy were muffled by the darkness of the tent. Tommy turned away and left the tent, that's one thing less to cross off his list. He looked towards the Cabin on top of the hill, and saw the light by the window was still light, the Mountain Man was still awake. But he knew eventually he'd go to sleep.
Dinner, was a quiet and tense affair, the threat of tomorrow and the bad blood between Beca and Paula hung in the air. Afterwards Chloe and Beca went back to the basement to care for Benji but eventually were relieved by Mary and Paula, the girls protested but Paula was adamant, she insisted they look after Benji in shifts, tomorrow would be a big day and everyone needed their rest.
Chloe agreed, slightly reluctantly because she didn't want to admit that there was nothing more she could do, now it was just a matter of time.
Back in their bedroom, Beca sat on the edge of the bed, staring out the window. It was snowing like always but thankfully it wasn't nearly as bad as it usually was around this time. As she watched the streaks of white pass by the window her head became a maddening jumble of thoughts, and she could feel the tension in her muscles, and it slowly morphed into soreness. She gently rubbed her shoulders as she tried her hardest to focus on that and not on how frail Benji had looked.
Chloe was wearing a pajama set and was biting her nails as she paced. She thought a shower might help distract her, but it didn't. Then she thought maybe putting on my favorite pajamas might help, but it didn't. Nothing helped, she was still thinking about how incompetent she had felt today, and the many if-onlys. If only she'd gone into nursing instead or med school, or at least gone the pre-med route like Stacie. Or if only she had at least one book on medicine she could do something for Benji and for Beca. But she didn't, and so she felt powerless and it was gnawing at her. She looked over at Beca, her back was turned to her.
Suddenly the silhouette of the woman paused the storm of defeating negative thoughts and all she could see was her.
Beca looked comfortable wearing a pair of black boy shorts and one of her black shirts with the sleeves cut off, her midriff bare. Her long black hair cascaded past her shoulders settling halfway down her back. Chloe found herself captivated by the sight—the subtle gleam of Beca's dark hair in the dim light of the room, the small line of muscle forming on her shoulders, and the gentle curve of her waist as she sat.
Something about Beca had always called to her. From day one, it was like a magnetism she couldn't explain. That magnetism could happen even at the worst of times, it happened in the gas station, it happened when they slept in the car, and it happened last night after their worst and first fight. Tonight in the worst of situations, it was happening again. She needed her touch, she needed reassurance, comfort, for everything to make sense, and more importantly, she needed not to think. Chloe climbed over the bed towards her unsuspecting pray and placed her arm around her and buried her head in the crook of her neck.
Beca smiled warmly, feeling reassured by Chloe's gentle embrace, she closed her eyes and as she placed a hand over Chloe's arm she whispered, "Oh, hi…"
"Hi," Chloe whispered, her lips casually resting on Beca's neck, her warm breath on her neck was the soothing balm her soul needed right now. Her touch was grounding and for a brief second, she stopped thinking about Benji.
Then Chloe surprised her as she placed a quick, timid but wet kiss on her neck, it was meant to signal her needs, and it did. Beca knew what was on the woman's mind. She turned to her, her eyes wide with surprise, was this really the time for this?
Chloe's striking pale blue eyes, which always stole her soul, begged Beca. In a throaty whisper, Chloe said, "Please, I need to not think about… everything"
There was so much pain in Chloe's voice that it wrecked her. Since seeing Benji she'd been so in her head about his condition that not once had she thought about how this was impacting her girlfriend. Still, something about it felt weird, not bad just, maybe untimely and she hesitated.
Chloe noticed the subtle hesitation in her eyes, she couldn't help but feel a bit rejected, a bit foolish, and a bit guilty. She shook her head and said, "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
"Hey," Beca whispered as she reached over and cupped Chloe's face. "It's alright, talk to me,"
Chloe was immediately reassured by her touch and she grabbed that same hand and pressed her face into it, with a gentle smile, then she opened her eyes and looked at Beca, "I just can't stop thinking about him and—"
"I'm here Chlo," Beca whispered, she felt it too—that desperate need for something else, other than thinking, other than pain, and seeing Chloe, a mirror of herself, vulnerable and sad, she leaned forward and kissed her. She whispered into her kiss, "I'm here."
There was so much in this kiss, so much pain, so much longing, so much desire to comfort and reassure, and Chloe loved and wanted it all, she tried to push back the tears that were starting to form, she didn't want to cry, right now. If she started to cry she didn't know when she'd stop.
"I just don't want to think about it anymore," Chloe whispered, "I just want to forget for a little while."
Beca nodded and kissed her again. It was tender and loving.
For Chloe this kiss was a balancing act, holding back her overwhelming sense of despair, and her need to be consumed and to consume her. And their kiss, though still gentle, grew hungrier. Both searching, both needing, both wanting, normalcy, a bit of passion, a distraction, some reassurance, maybe some comforting, anything really, anything other than the weight they've been carrying.
Chloe was the first to move closer, her right hand on Beca's cheek and her left hand grabbing her waist, pulling her in. Beca's body reacted immediately, letting herself be drawn closer to Chloe, adjusting to whatever she needed. She would gladly be putty in her hands, ready to melt beneath her fingers. Beca's hands moved to Chloe's face, pulling her lips even closer, pressing hard as her desire slowly took hold.
As they kissed, the room disappeared. The only two things that mattered were them and the softness of the bed they sat on. The house, the people inside, even the snow, and the omnipresent dread of the apocalypse—all of it faded away. They were the only two beings in the entire universe. And it was exactly what they both needed right now.
Chloe gently pushed Beca down onto the bed and Beca let herself be guided. For a brief second their kiss broke apart and their eyes met, both women had the same eye color and yet they were so different and Chloe who loved nothing more than to unblinkingly look deep into Beca's eyes and let their souls link, couldn't hold her gaze, she didn't know why, but it was too intense, too raw, and so she kissed her again. Right now it felt safer to kiss her than to stare too deeply into Beca's eyes.
At some point during their kiss, clothes disappeared, and their bodies hid beneath the covers, their bodies connected and produced the warmth they needed. They pressed their hands against each other's clits as they kissed, their fingers circled, and their bodies rocked. Their mouths fell open, desperately searching for air, but settling for each other's lips instead, their breathing hurried, shallow, and intoxicating. They moved their fingers together, at a similarly slow, and gentle pace, bringing each other into a warm, and fuzzy orgasm.
The process of making love has its mechanical aspects to it, not unlike using an instrument. There's a method to it, but just because one can play it, it doesn't mean one can make beautiful music with it. Both women were virtuosos with each other. They'd learned each other's mechanics well at this point but this wasn't about that. This was gentle music, played with love and passion. In this song, they found the solace they needed, the comfort. And the song was a reminder that they were still here, they were still alive, they were still together, despite everything that had happened, and everything that would happen. Simply put, the song their bodies sang said, Beca Mitchell, and Chloe Beale would always be there for each other, no matter what.
"I love you," Chloe whispered in the dark as her head rested gently over Beca's chest. In response Beca tightened her embrace and kissed the top of her head, she didn't need to say anything, Beca's love language was acts of service after all.
On what felt and seemed like the other side of the world, Bumper dragged his beaten, bloodied body across the cold ground. Every step sent waves of pain through his battered frame. His face was swollen, one eye nearly shut, and blood trickled from a cut on his lip. His ribs ached with every breath, each one a reminder of the beating he had just endured. Finally, he reached his tent, the place that had become his only sanctuary in this hellish camp. He pushed the flap aside and collapsed inside, curling up in his sleeping bag, trying to shut out the world.
Tears welled up in his eyes, and he didn't bother to stop them. He felt pathetic, weak, a coward. He wished more than anything that he had gone with Benji when he had the chance. Maybe then he wouldn't be here, broken and alone. A choked sob escaped his throat, and he buried his face in the rough fabric of his sleeping bag, lamenting everything that had brought him to this moment.
As he lay there, crying quietly, he heard the sound of small footsteps outside the tent. He quickly wiped his eyes, trying to pull himself together, but it was too late. The flap of the tent opened, and April, the little girl who had taken to calling him "Little Bear," peeked inside.
"Hi, Little Bear!" she chirped, her eyes bright with childish excitement. She ducked into the tent, her little hands clutching a worn stuffed animal that she always carried with her.
Bumper tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. "Hey, kiddo. I… I can't play a lot right now, okay?"
April's smile faded as she noticed his puffy eyes and the tear stains on his cheeks. "Why are you crying, Little Bear?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
Bumper shook his head, not wanting to worry her. "I'm not crying, April. I just… got something in my eye, that's all."
April's brow furrowed, not entirely convinced, but she didn't push. She sat down beside him, looking at him with those big, innocent eyes. Suddenly, Bumper's stomach rumbled loudly. April giggled. "Are you hungry, Little Bear?"
Bumper forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to his own ears. "No, I'm okay. But… what about you? Have you eaten anything today?"
April shook her head, her pigtails swaying. "Nope, not yet."
Bumper sighed, guilt gnawing at him. "We should go get something to eat then."
But April shook her head again, this time with a determined look on her face. "No, you stay here. I'll get us something."
Before Bumper could protest, she was already crawling out of the tent, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He waited, staring at the tent flap, wondering what she was up to. After a few minutes, April returned, holding two cans of SpaghettiOs in her tiny hands. She beamed as she held them out. "Look what I got for us!"
Bumper blinked in surprise, his heart clenching at the sight of her offering. "Where did you get that, April?"
She shrugged, still smiling. "The Mountain Man gave it to me! One for me and one for you!"
The Mountain Man?Bumper thought puzzled, and he wondered if this was the Mountain Man's way of thanking him for warning him about Tommy. He studied the can carefully and considered its implications.
One can of food, in exchange for getting the shit kicked out of you?
He scoffed but didn't ask any more questions. He was too tired, too beaten down to care where she had found it. With shaking hands, he opened the can and started eating the cold SpaghettiOs straight from it, tears silently streaming down his face as he did. April scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder, and she ate her own can of spaghettiOs, her small presence a comfort in the darkness.
"You're crazy, you know that?" Bumper said between bites, trying to muster a bit of humor. "Eating this stuff cold… you must be out of your mind."
April giggled her innocent laughter a balm to his wounded soul. "I like it cold," she said simply as if that explained everything.
Bumper continued eating, the cold pasta doing little to soothe his hunger but warming his heart in a way he hadn't expected. As the last of the SpaghettiOs disappeared, he found himself thinking about three things: how much he hated this place, how much he hated Tommy, and how this little girl was the only good thing left in this godforsaken camp.
As April gave him a wide, toothy grin just so full of innocence and oblivious ignorance Bumper felt a tiny flicker of hope—something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Beca lay on her back, her eyes wide open, staring up at the unseen ceiling. She could feel Chloe's warmth beside her, the soft rise and fall of her breathing, the strands of red hair draped across her chest. It should be grounding her but tonight it didn't.
Beca's mind was racing, thoughts spiraled out of control as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened, and everything that was going to happen. She couldn't avoid thinking about it now, and fear was clawing its way out to the surface.
Beca was afraid. Afraid of what was coming, of what she might have to do, of what she might become. All she wanted was to return to normal, to be in her New York apartment, in this exact same position, with the woman she loved, and her only concern she'd have is if she wanted pancakes, or waffles the next morning. Instead, she was thinking about being shot at, and possibly shooting back.
The silence was thick, almost unbearable. And then, Chloe spoke, her voice cutting through the darkness like a knife. "We really will have to fight, won't we?"
Beca's heart skipped a beat, startled by the suddenness of the words. She turned to look at Chloe, though she could barely make out her features in the dim light. There was such sorrow in Chloe's voice, a sorrow that Beca knew all too well. It was the sorrow of acceptance, of knowing what had to be done, even when every part of you wished it didn't.
They breathed in sync, holding onto each other. Beca finally broke the silence.
"Yeah," Beca whispered, "But only because we have to." Beca murmured after a while, she hoped that her voice sounded resolute, but instead it came out as resigned.
The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of what little resolve they could muster.
Chloe nodded against her chest, fingers lightly tracing patterns on Beca's skin. Beca reached out, threading her fingers through Chloe's hair, trying to offer what little comfort she could.
Chloe took a deep breath, she had been trying so hard to be stronger, to be a badass like Beca, but now she knew better. In her own way, she was a badass, she was a woman who would do anything it took to protect those she loved. She would convert animal medicine into human medicine as best as she could, she would drive an axe into a wolf's head, and she would fire a rifle. Still, she was afraid but it wasn't for her own safety, but for the woman she loved the most.
"I just… I don't want to lose you." Chloe whispered.
"You won't," Beca said, her voice a bit more confident now. "We're going to get through this. Together."I promise.
Chloe nodded and held her as tight as she could. With her embrace, Chloe told her, I'm never going to let you go. And Beca smiled as she felt delightfully suffocated by the woman.
They fell silent, holding each other in the dark, finding strength in their connection. They would fight—because they had to because they loved each other, and because there was no other choice. And they would protect what they held dear, no matter the cost.
To be continued...
Notes:
A day late from my deadline, hope y'all can forgive me. But this chapter was an absolute pain in the ass to write. Honestly to date, one of the hardest chapters I've ever had to write. One of my biggest issues was that I actually wrote the chapter that follows this one ages ago, and the more I developed Tommy, Benji, and Bumper I realized that they needed to be fleshed out more. It felt like trying to complete a cohesive and beautiful puzzle set made of three different puzzles. When I was finally done and everything made sense the mf was 15k! That was too long! And I promised myself I would make the chapters shorter! So I read and reread and I went too purple, too deep, too graphic, and some scenes needed to be surmised. I'm trying to do the whole less is more thing, and it's a challenge. Tell you what though that light smut scene went way too purple for this series and I don't care, I'm keeping it exactly as it came out when I first wrote it. I wanted it to be different from the past two smut scenes, focusing on comfort, and emotion rather than the physical component and that's why we talked about the mechanics of making love. Oh God, I'm droning on again!
Please comment, tell me what you liked, what you thought were the themes, or what stood out for you, it would help me know I'm not nuts for overthinking this. If you don't that's cool too. Thank you for reading, it means the world to me. Seriously, last night after work I worked on this trying to meet my deadline until I fell asleep. If you read this far, you are just amazing.
