Chapter 2 – "Still Here"
(Dina's POV)

The front gate creaked again today. That low, rusted groan that always sounds like the past dragging its heels behind you. Wind pushed it open just a little before it swayed closed again, metal brushing like it was trying to remind me it's still there. Reminded me of a home I once had, seems like a dream now.

I sat on the porch steps of the small house Maria gave me—just past Jackson's main street. Nothing fancy. Nothing sentimental. Which is probably why I was okay with it. JJ was napping quietly inside. The baby monitor buzzed gently in my lap, the static like a slow heartbeat keeping me grounded. My eyes weren't really on anything. Just watching the rain drip off the edge of the roof. Listening to the soft *plop* of water pooling in the corner of the porch.

I sat waiting like I always do. For what, I don't know.

I came back to Jackson about a month after Ellie left. Didn't say anything. Didn't send a message ahead. Just showed up. I didn't have the energy to care or make excuses. No one seemed surprised. Maria didn't ask questions. I remember her face when the gate opened. Her face tight and sullen, tired eyes sagged slightly at the edges like someone who could never catch up on sleep. She just pulled me in, long and tight. She already knew. Jesse's parents cried, more with joy I think. They had begged us many times to come back to Jackson. They took JJ into their arms like a piece of their son had come back. That made me smile. Even if it hurt. They helped me get settled, helped me find a routine. It was quiet, and quiet was all I could manage anymore.

I was upfront with Maria, no more patrols for me. I told her I was done with locked doors and cold hallways. With bloodstains and the sound of bolts clicking into place. So I work in the greenhouses mostly. Help mend fences or cook when I have the energy. Sometimes holding a knife or hearing a loud clang forces me into a frozen still, or jolting panic. When this happens I close my eyes and breathe slowly.. then say something that I love. Like JJ, or a bright orange sunset. Thanks to Gail. It really does help.

But none of it makes the ache go away.

Not even when JJ laughs. Not even when he says something new and I feel that flutter in my chest that only a parent understands. Not even when I hold him in the middle of the night, warm and heavy against me.

Ellie's been gone about eight months now. For six of them, I tried. I really tried.

I waited. I forgave. I told myself she needed time. That she was just broken. That maybe, after all of it, she'd come back to me. To us. That what we had would be enough. I knew more than anyone how she broke that day in the ski lodge. It gave me an insight to understand. I tried.. I tried so fucking hard.

But that last morning…I begged her. I pleaded with her not to go.

"We have a family..She doesn't get to be more important than that.." My voice cracked like dry wood splitting in the cold.

My fists were so tight, I left little crescent wounds in my palms. I told her I won't do this again. That if she walked away—if she left me and JJ and the life we were building—I wouldn't be here waiting.

She looked through me like I wasn't even there. "That's your choice" She whispered. Then she made hers.

She was already gone before she closed the door behind her. She was already miles away from me in her head.

I didn't watch her leave. I couldn't. I turned my back, just like she turned hers. And ever since, I've lived with that moment lodged in me like a piece of shrapnel. It doesn't bleed. It just festers. Stays stinging me, never healing.

Some nights I wake up gasping for air. I still see Seattle in my dreams. Still hear the gunfire. The screams. That last second when Abby was cracking my face against broken shelves- and everything after that feels like a spiral of red and black. Seeing Jesse on the floor of that theatre - god Jesse- he didn't deserve it, none of us did.

Some nights I end up on the floor next to JJ's crib. Holding myself. Whispering sobs of "I'm sorry" to ghosts of those I've loved. Whispering her name like it might bring her back.

Sometimes I get angry.

At her, Tommy and Abby. At all of it. How dare they make me feel like this? How dare she walk away from what we built?

But more often, I blame myself. I comb through every second, every breath I took that maybe pushed her away. Made her not realize what all we had. Like the truth might live in the cracks if I just stare long enough.

The harsh reality has set in, there is no clear line anymore. No villain, and definitely no hero. Just pain, splintered into pieces and deafening silence.

I haven't listened to music in a long time. I can't. Every beat reminds me of her. Of Joel, too. That living room in the farmhouse where songs used to drift through the air like hope. Where I could look at her and believe—for just a second—that maybe we'd be okay. I was fucking naive.

I leaned back on the steps, letting the sunlight shine against my face. But it didn't warm me. Not really.

Quietly inside, JJ stirred. I stood slowly. My knees creaked and my shoulder still aches from that arrow. My body feels older than it is these days. I stepped back into the house, closing the door behind me with a quiet click. Willing myself to be there for him.

While a part of me was still lost out there with her, I didn't know when—if—it would ever come home.

But the part that remained?

It was still here. Still trying. Still surviving.