the uses of sorrow

by envyzilla, SouthbySoutheast

Chapter 38: i'll crawl home to her

Summary:

Jackie and Lottie are reunited and it feels so good. Or, well, it should feel good. Somehow, things aren't quite as either of them thought they would be. They can pretend for now, though, can't they? At least until they have Tribal Counsel to decide Ben's fate. Only Nat and Jackie seem to be on Coach's side, and that means they're not on Lottie's side, right? Maybe she just needs some time to cool off, surely things will go back to normal in the morning.

Notes:

Here's a nice hefty chapter for you guys, only a little bit late! Hopefully now that all the holidays are over, we can get back on a nice schedule. Enjoy!

Title is from "Work Song" by Hozier

The walk is so fucking long, from the hole in the ground so that Jackie can trace her steps back to camp, but Jackie doesn’t even remember it. She just remembers blinking, and the sun’s in a new position in the sky, hovering up above her before sinking down. But the second they start getting close enough, Jackie’s yelling, her voice hoarse and cracking but still just as loud as if she was yelling commands on the field. 

 

“Lottie!” She cries out, frantic. “Lottie!”

 

At first, Nat thinks she might be imagining things when she hears Jackie’s voice. She swears she hears it.

 

Then she hears it again and so do all the other girls, and suddenly they’re all rushing towards the sound.

 

And there she is. Jackie Taylor in the flesh, limping along with a crutch-- and behind her, Coach Scott.

 

“Coach,” Nat breathes as the other girls all pause to stare as well. No one knows what to do.

 

As the others join, Jackie looks up at them, leaning heavily on Coach’s crutch. She looks at Tai. “So, he’s alive. I was wrong.” But among the crowd of faces, she doesn’t see the one she wants. Her face falls. “Where’s…” she starts. She needs Lottie.

 

Nat snaps out of her stupor of staring at Coach long enough to see the pale, pitiful look on Jackie’s face. “Guys, clear out, give them space.” She wants to go to Coach, she feels the need to protect him as she sees Tai and Mari glaring his way. A few of the others are helping to move the box of supplies he has tied to his waste.

 

Nat reaches for Jackie. “Here, she’s in my hut,” she tells her, leading Jackie back over to where Lottie has been sleeping for the past few hours. “She’s…she passed out a bit ago but we can wake her.”

 

Jackie nods, leaning more against Nat than the crutch. “He said he’s sorry, so I promised no one would eat him,” Jackie mumbles against Nat’s shoulder. “I fell in a fucking hole. Because of a candy bar.”

 

Nat gives a half laugh, choked with wet tears. “Jesus fucking christ, of course you did.” 

 

They reach the hut and Lottie, who’s passed out still. Her hand is wrapped tight, but she’s dirty, covered in mud and leaves and twigs, blood smeared on her clothes. She’s asleep, but it’s restless, Nat can tell. She’s been tossing and turning the whole time, mumbling to herself, mumbling Jackie’s name.

 

“Just…be gentle. I think she’s a little-- her head isn’t in a good place right now,” Nat says to Jackie as she sets her down next to Lottie. “She was so…she wouldn’t stop looking for you.”

 

Looking Lottie over, Jackie feels her heart breaking. She did that. She’s so stupid. Lottie’s hurt and upset, and it’s all her fault. Jackie lays down next to Lottie, facing her. Her hand reaches out and pulls a twig out of Lottie’s hair. “I’m so sorry, baby. I tried. I promised.”

 

Lottie’s dreams don’t make any sense. They rarely do. These feel different. They feel wrong, bad. They feel like they’re trying to tell her something. She can’t figure out what it is.

 

She hears a voice. The one she’d been longing to hear for days now. The one she thought she’d never get to hear again.

 

Her eyes open slowly. She’s still so tired. She sees Jackie’s face laying next to hers, looking at her through hazy tears. 

 

It’s not real. It can’t be real.

 

“You’re not real,” Lottie croaks. She’s not real. Maybe she's a ghost, like Laura Lee.

 

Jackie brushes trembling fingers against Lottie’s cheek. “I’m real. I promised I’d come back. I promised.”

 

Fingertips graze her skin and Lottie shudders. “You’re…” Is it real? Is she really there? She could never feel Laura Lee’s touch, but she can feel this. She reaches out and puts her hand on Jackie’s chest. She feels a heartbeat. A horrid, low sob rips itself from her throat. “You’re real. You’re real. You’re here, You’re-- you’re--” Her fingers curl into the cloth of Jackie’s shirt, unbelieving, hysterical. “I thought you were dead. I thought you-- you left.”

 

Unable to stop herself, Jackie lunges into Lottie’s arms, wrapping around her tightly, even as she cries out in pain as she hurts her leg. She doesn’t care. God, she doesn’t care. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpers. “I tried. I tried. I promised I’d come back. I came back. I’d never-- Never. Not on purpose. Never.”

 

Lottie’s whole body is trembling as Jackie’s arms wrap around her. It feels so real, it has to be real. But her mind is racing and she remembers seeing her dead and she remembers being told she left and she can’t make sense of it. “Where?” she asks. “Why?”

 

“I fell in a hole,” Jackie mumbles. “Found Coach. He’s not dead. My leg’s broke, I think. Do you like peanut butter?”

 

It’s a lot for Lottie to process. Too much. A hole? “We-- we found the pit. I saw-- your bag. It’s in the-- in our hut.” Coach? He wasn’t dead? “Where-- he’s not--” Lottie tries to sit up. Jackie’s hurt, really badly. Her arms tremble and she can’t see through the cloudy tears in her eyes even as she wraps her arms around Jackie.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jackie says. She just repeats it over and over again, a babbling mess. She’s so tired, and she’s in so much pain, but she’s never been more relieved than the moment Lottie’s arms wrap around her. Even when Lottie tries to sit up, Jackie clings to her. “I’m sorry.”

 

Lottie is sorry, too. How did she get back? Was Coach there? Why had it taken so long? Her head hurts. Her body aches. She still can’t process that this is real, that Jackie is here. After three agonizing days without her, looking everywhere for her, she’s here. She’s real. She’s real.

 

Lottie wraps her arms tightly around her and squeezes. “I didn’t want to stop looking. I’m sorry. I needed you. I needed to find you.”

 

“I’m sorry. I tried, I promised, I promise. But it hurt, and I was in a cave, and I couldn’t figure out how to leave,” Jackie says. “I didn’t-- I couldn’t-- I missed you so much. You’re all I could think about.”

 

Lottie clings tighter. “I thought I lost you.” She thought Jackie was gone. She thought she’d never see her again, hold her again, kiss her again. She’d been convinced she was dead. She thought she’d seen her dead body. She remembers seeing it, holding it. She remembers blood and pain and Shauna and Laura Lee. Remembers screaming and stabbing and crying. 

 

“Please don’t leave me,” Lottie cries, “please.”

 

Groaning, Jackie tries to adjust herself more comfortably without letting go. “Never. Never. I promised I’d come back. I promised.”

 

“You promised.” Lottie is aware, somewhere, that Jackie is hurt and she needs to be gentle, but she’s so afraid to let go. She’s so afraid Jackie will slip from her grasp again, that she’ll leave her again. “Why didn’t you come back? I looked for you. Everywhere.”

 

“Coach Scott took me back to his cave, and I couldn’t leave. It was super gross, and he ate bat, and there was this place with poison gas that made me see shit when I got lost,” Jackie tells her, tucking her head under Lottie’s chin. She thinks, maybe, this’ll make her feel better. She doesn’t need food or water or medical attention. Just for Lottie to hold her in her arms.

 

Maybe a bath, but that can wait. Jackie just wants to be held.

 

Lottie is sort of frozen. She doesn’t know what to think. What to say. Coach Scott found Jackie. And he kept her? “Why? Why would he-- why wouldn’t he let you go?”

 

“He thought we were gonna eat him if we knew he was alive.”

 

“But-- but we--” Lottie doesn’t understand. She can’t understand. “But you came back.”

 

“I wouldn’t stop trying so he helped me back. Do you like peanut butter?” Jackie asks again, pulling the protein bar out of her pocket with shaky fingers and handing it to Lottie. 

 

“Helped? Is he-- he’s here?” Lottie doesn’t acknowledge the offer of food. She hasn’t eaten in days but she’s not hungry. She doesn’t feel hungry. She just feels cold and tired and confused. Her mind can’t grasp anything that’s happening, not enough to understand what Jackie is saying. 

 

“Brought some stuff. Think he’s putting it away.” With her eyes fluttering, Jackie doesn’t know how much longer she can stay awake before she finally just passes out. The last time she properly slept was in Lottie’s arms. She wants that feeling back, now. She wants it to take away the pain and aches and fear.

 

“He’s just-- Where-- Nat…” Lottie tries to sit up. Her body is still shaking as she squints out the front door, looking for them. She can see bodies moving about, hear hushed whispers. “He took you.”

 

Jackie lets out a pained protest, still clinging to Lottie. “He got me out of that hole. He was just… worried I’d tell.”

 

“But he didn’t-- I was looking everywhere and I-- you were just-- He just had you.” He’d kept Jackie from her. He’d let her suffer without her. He’d let her think Jackie was dead.

 

“He thought I’d tell everyone, and then we’d eat him,” Jackie says. She tries to soothe Lottie. “But I’m here. I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

 

“But he took you!” Lottie says, her voice wavering, cracking, desperate. He’d taken Jackie from her. “I thought you were dead! I thought-- I saw-- you were dead. And he-- he just-- he let you-- he took you from me.”

 

“She was never yours.” Shauna whispers in her ear.

 

Lottie shakes her head. “No, she-- she promised. You said-- I--” Lottie puts her hands over her ears again, presses down hard, shaking. “I know, I know, I know.” She was never hers. She left. She was back.

 

Lottie’s head felt like it was splitting open. She felt nauseous. She hadn’t eaten anything in days. When she leans over to vomit, only bile and spit come out.

 

“She doesn’t belong to you.”

 

“Lottie?” Jackie’s eyes are wide and glassy and panicked, and she brushes Lottie’s hair back out of her face, tries to help her through it. Tears start streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I came back. I came back to you. I’ll always come back. I love you.”

 

Lottie flinches. She doesn’t mean to. Her head is pounding again. She can’t make sense of anything. She just wants to sleep. She wants Jackie. She wants to scream and yell. She wants to know why. 

 

“I looked everywhere,” she says again, “I tried to find you.”

 

Jackie can’t stop crying, folding her arms against herself after Lottie flinches. “It was a cave.” Her breathing feels labored. “I couldn’t-- I couldn’t find my way out. I’m sorry. Please.”

 

A cave? Out here? Where? Had she been close? Was she hiding? Lottie can’t make sense of anything. She just wants to hold Jackie but it feels like her body and mind are rejecting the notion. She doesn’t want that. Why does she feel so cold? So wrong? “It’s all wrong,” she chokes, “it’s all wrong.”

 

The pain and exhaustion that Jackie’s been dealing with for days is nothing compared to that. It’s like her heart stops beating in her chest, like her body wants to turn itself inside out. She feels like she’s been punched. A punch would have been kinder. 

 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Jackie gasps. She doesn’t want this to be her fault, but she doesn’t know what else it could be, and it rips her open. She wishes she wasn’t herself, the version made in this place that knows the truth: it’s all her fucking fault. At least before she didn’t know that. 

 

Before Jackie can implode into a black hole, Nat comes in with Misty. Nat says, “Coach mentioned your leg needed to be properly set. Let Misty look it over and work on it in here, and then we’ll move you to your hut.” She frowns as she looks Jackie over. “I know it hurts. It’ll be better soon.”

 

Jackie doesn’t think them setting her bones will hurt any more than Lottie telling her it’s all wrong. 

 

You don’t matter anymore.

 

Lottie looks up at Natalie. “Where is he?” she asks, a sudden darkness in her voice.

 

“He’s putting shit away in storage, I think. He brought back some decent stuff,” Nat says, looking at Lottie with a furrowed brow.

 

“And that-- that’s it?” She asks, trying to push herself up to stand. Misty looks like she wants to move to stop Lottie, but she’s already kneeling next to Jackie’s broken leg and the look Nat shoots her plants her in her spot.

 

“He just gets to-- be here?”

 

Nat stands, too, frowning. “I mean, that’s not just it. We’ve got some shit to talk through. Obviously.”

 

“It needs to be set better.” Misty hands Jackie a stick. “Bite down.”

 

It still hurts. Jackie still screams.

 

“Your ankle appears to be broken, too. Wow, Jackie. It’s kind of impressive,” Misty says. 

 

Jackie doesn’t care. She wonders if it’s still okay for her to sleep curled up in Lottie’s lap, or if that’s wrong, too.

 

“Be nice to her,” Lottie snarls, turning on Misty. Teeth bared, eyes dark. She’s angry and hurt and doesn’t know where to put it all. She feels like a cornered animal. She doesn’t know how to handle it. 

 

She feels so jittery, so heavy. Her breaths are shuddering in her chest. She falls back to her knees and wraps herself around Jackie, as if shielding her from everything around them. She’s shaking, wide-eyed, searching every dark corner of the hut. 

 

“You can’t have her,” Lottie growls. It can’t have her. It tried to take her away from Lottie. Coach Scott tried to take her away. Lottie’s head is jolted with blinding pain but she stays where she is, heaving with breath.

 

Jackie groans but sinks into Lottie’s touch, clinging to her even when it jostles her. 

 

“Both of you need to stay still,” Misty snaps. 

 

Nat frowns, “You might want to make that tea again.”

 

Lottie curls protectively around Jackie, glowering at Misty. She’s shaking, like a feral, wild animal. She feels like one, cornered and caged. She’s so afraid someone is going to take Jackie from her again. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to stand that. She thinks it might drive her to madness, if it hasn’t already. She feels fractured, broken, terrified. 

 

Misty huffs. “You’re just lucky there’s no open fractures like with Allie. That could have been bad. But you both need to hold still so I can splint the bones.” She looks at Nat. “There should still be some in the medical hut, if you’ll get it for me, please.”

 

Nat nods and steps out, looking back at them briefly before she goes. 

 

The discomfort of keeping her leg still means nothing to Jackie in Lottie’s arms. She mutters, her voice slurring, “‘S not wrong?”

 

“No, no,” Lottie shakes her head, “not you. No.” Not Jackie. Just Lottie. Just her head. Just Coach Scott. He’d taken her. She was so afraid he was going to take her again. 

 

She’s glaring at Misty the whole time. She doesn’t want Jackie to drink anything she gives her. She thinks it’ll just make Jackie sick. She thinks Misty wants to hurt Jackie. She won’t let her. 

 

“You came back,” Lottie mumbles, a little delirious. “You came back. Not wrong. No. I-- my head.” Her head was so wrong. All wrong. She’d thought Jackie was dead. She’d given up. He’d made her give up. She hates him, she thinks. She hates him.

 

Jackie would always come back to Lottie. She’d never give up trying to come back to Lottie. She remembers how the last time Lottie’s head had been so overwhelming for her, that touch had helped, so Jackie strains to brush her lips against Lottie’s, hoping it grounds her. 

 

“I recommend not engaging in any sort of sexual activity while you’re healing, Jackie,” Misty scolds as she tightens the splint on Jackie’s ankle. 

 

At that time, Nat comes back with the cup Lottie had drank from earlier and holds it out. “To help you sleep.”

 

Jackie thinks she could go to sleep right now if it wasn’t for the pain. She made it back. She’s in Lottie’s arms. Mission accomplished.

 

Lottie doesn’t want to let go of Jackie but she reaches for the cup first, gripping it tightly. “What’s in it?” she asks at Misty, her voice accusatory. She won’t let Jackie get hurt anymore, or sick anymore. She won’t let anyone take her away again. She won’t let anyone touch her.

 

“It’s just something to calm her down,” Misty says. “It’s what you had earlier, Lottie. She’ll be okay.”

 

Tentatively, Lottie holds the cup up to Jackie’s lips. “Drink,” she tells her, urging her to sip it. If anything happens to Jackie after she drinks this, Lottie thinks she might actually hit MIsty. Or worse.

 

Jackie takes a long drink, sighing quietly before she hands it back to Lottie. “I love you,” she murmurs.

 

“I love you, too,” Lottie says, her voice breaking. She’s so tired but she’s afraid to close her eyes. Afraid someone will take Jackie away again. Afraid she’ll wake up and it’ll just be a dream. Afraid that she won’t be able to tell what’s real and what’s not. 

 

She holds Jackie tighter, shaking. “It’s real.”

 

“It’s real,” Jackie whispers. She knows it’s real, feels it in her bones. Her body finally starts to relax, slumping into Lottie’s. Finally, finally. She can rest. 

 

Lottie holds Jackie. She isn’t going to let go. Even as Nat looks from Misty to the two of them. Lottie won’t let go. She shakes her head at Nat.

 

“Just let me help you get her back to your hut,” Nat offers, kneeling next to them.

 

Jackie grips Lottie tighter, her eyes clenched tight before she relaxes, still holding onto Lottie. “Can we?” she murmurs. “Go back?”

 

Warily, Lottie loosens her grip on Jackie just enough to let Nat help her stand with the girl in her arms. Her legs are still shaking as she walks and she’s dizzy, the world tilting on its axis. She’s trying her best not to jostle Jackie’s leg. She can’t see much. She thinks she sees blood but when she blinks it’s gone. It’s gone. It’s not real. It’s not real. 

 

Jackie in her arms is real. She focuses on that, it's all that matters.

 

Nat helps her set Jackie down on their bedding once they're back in their hut and Lottie sways. She turns before Nat can leave and grabs her arm. “Don’t let him near her,” she says, pleading, terrified, angry.

 

For her part, Jackie doesn’t seem aware enough of the situation to hear Lottie’s words, just that she’s talking. Her hand searches until she finds warm skin as she lets herself be soothed by Lottie’s presence. 

 

“Lottie,” Nat murmurs, frowning. But she doesn’t say anything else except, “Only if you agree to eat something.”

 

Lottie looks at Nat, looks into her eyes. “I need to know she’s going to be okay if I fall asleep,” she begs quietly, voice wavering, “please.” She’s not hungry. She’s not anything but afraid.

 

“She’s going to be just fine. He’s not going to hurt her.” Nat doesn’t think he will. No. She knows he won’t. He won’t hurt any of them. As it is, he’s waiting in that little prison Lottie insisted they construct. It’s not locked, though. Nat doesn’t see a reason when he’s being compliant. “You’ve got to eat. She needs to, too, but I’m gonna let her rest for a bit.”

 

“He already took her from me once,” Lottie says quietly-- she can’t fight it anymore. She’s so tired. She sinks down onto the bedding with Jackie. “I’ll eat.” 

 

Nat nods. “I’ll be right back. And, Lottie, he won’t. Not again.”

 

As Nat leaves, Jackie turns towards Lottie and pulls herself against her, sighing quietly. She’s only barely awake, sinking in and out of consciousness, fighting it. “I never stopped trying. To get back to you.”

 

Lottie shifts so that she can hold Jackie better without hurting her. “I know,” she murmurs, petting gently through her hair, “I know.” She knows. She thinks she knows. She doesn’t think it’s Jackie’s fault. It was Ben. He kept her from Lottie. He tried to keep her and make Lottie think she was dead. Make her think she’d left her. They promised. They promised each other and Lottie didn’t think Jackie would break that promise.

 

Jackie rubs some of the dirt away from Lottie’s skin. “Would’ve crawled. Tried to. I got lost, though. Had to… had to be dragged out.”

 

Nat comes back with a bowl of their dinner, holding it out to Lottie. Jackie doesn’t even notice she’s there, too busy taking in the way that Lottie looks so hurt and stressed.

 

“It’s okay,” Lottie murmurs, trying to sooth Jackie, “save your energy. Just rest.” She just wants her to rest and to be okay. She knows that’s not entirely possible, but she wants it anyway. 

 

Taking the bowl, Lottie holds it tightly in one hand while she keeps the other wrapped around Jackie. She doesn’t want to let go. She’s so afraid to let go. 

 

Still, she looks up at Nat and says, “Thank you.” 

 

With a tired look, Nat just says, “Eat.” She looks at Jackie as she turns to leave. “Rest. Both of you. It’s been a long few days. We all need it.”

 

Jackie wants to rest. She doesn’t. She wants to be with Lottie as much as she can, as long as she can. Forever. She wants to be with Lottie forever.

 

Lottie looks down at Jackie, then into the bowl of food. Eat. She’ll do it. For Jackie. 

 

She eats, only a few bites, but she eats. She’s so tired. She’s afraid to fall asleep.

 

Setting the bowl down, she shifts enough to wrap Jackie back up in her arms. She closes her eyes and lets herself feel the steady beat of Jackie’s heart. It’s the only thing that can calm her down. It’s the only thing that feels real. Lottie doesn’t feel real. This all feels like one long nightmare. She wants it to be over.

 

“I’m real,” Jackie whispers, for herself and for Lottie. “I’m real.” She takes Lottie’s hand, brushing her fingers tenderly over the cloth that covers it before she presses Lottie’s fingers to her pulse. She lets Lottie feel her heartbeat close and soft and real. “And you won’t leave me. You won’t walk away.”

 

“Never,” Lottie says immediately, “never.” She’d tried so hard to find her. She hadn’t wanted to give up. There were just so many voices in her head telling her to stop, to go back. Jackie didn’t belong to her. Lottie didn’t belong to Jackie. She doesn’t want to believe that.

 

“My Lottie,” Jackie murmurs, the words slurring together. Lottie won’t leave her. She doesn’t think this is wrong. She thinks Jackie matters. Jackie knows she does. Jackie keeps telling herself that Lottie does.

 

Lottie nods. “I’m yours.” She was Jackie’s. She was. Her head pounds, she hears whispering in her ears that she can’t make out. She thinks she sees the shadows of familiar, dead faces in the corner of their hut.

 

She screws her eyes shut and holds Jackie tighter. “I’m yours.”

 

“And I’m yours.” Jackie sighs, pressing her nose to Lottie’s neck. She smells like dirt and blood and sweat. Nothing’s ever been this comforting.

 

“Sleep,” Lottie urges, her voice strained but soft. “I’m not going anywhere.” She wasn’t going to leave Jackie at all. Nothing was going to take her away again. Nothing and no one. 

 

It’s easy after that to slip into a dark, dreamless sleep. After days of running off of pain and adrenaline and desperation, Jackie’s body can’t hold itself up anymore. She nuzzles in closer, groaning as her leg moves but not reacting otherwise except to cling tightly to Lottie.

 

Lottie can’t sleep. Every time her eyes close, panic runs through her and she jerks back awake, worried Jackie is going to be gone. 

 

Every time, she still finds her sleeping in her arms, but it brings little comfort. The fear is winning and Lottie can’t help it. She doesn’t have enough energy to fight it.

 

She listens for any noise outside of their hut. Misty comes in once to check on them and hand over a cup of water, one that Lottie stares at intently before taking the smallest of sips and waiting.

 

When nothing happens after a while, she drinks most of it. 

 

She keeps an arm tight around Jackie, laying as still as possible so she doesn’t accidentally bump or move her leg. She can’t imagine the pain Jackie is in. She thinks she might know. She wishes she could take it away. Her hand burns but she doesn’t think about it.

 

Her eyes are drooping when she hears movement outside their hut again and she stiffens, body straining. She squints against the darkness to try and see who is drawing the curtain aside and stepping in.

 

The figure squats next to them and Lottie looks up into the dark, glowing eyes of Shauna Shipman, lashes and hair still encrusted with snow and ice. The air in the hut turns cold and Lottie begins to shiver, despite the heavy blankets wrapped around her and Jackie.

 

“What do you want?” she asks the dead girl.

 

Shauna doesn’t say anything to Lottie, barely even spares her a glance. She brushes her fingers through Jackie’s hair, watching as the smaller girl shivers. She looks tiny like this, injured, clinging to Lottie even in her sleep.

 

“It’s not about what I want,” Shauna says, looking at Lottie after a few minutes. “It’s about what she needs. And what you need.” She snorts. “It’s not each other.”

 

Lottie doesn’t move, even as she watches Shauna’s fingers pet through Jackie’s hair. She feels defensive, caged. Cornered. She feels her muscles growing taught as she circles more protectively around Jackie. 

 

“No, I-- I need her,” Lottie argues, “I need her. I do.” Maybe Jackie doesn’t need Lottie, but Lottie needs Jackie. She’s not a real person without her. She can’t think straight without her.

 

“You don’t.” Shauna brushes her fingers over where the shell of Jackie’s right ear would be. “You need It. And It needs you. This place needs you.”

 

“I--” Lottie doesn’t know what to say. “Why me?” She wants to know. “Why would It-- It left me first.”

 

“Did It?” Shauna asks, pointedly looking down at Jackie.

 

Lottie feels ice in her veins. “I love her,” she says meekly. “I just-- I just wanted to love her.”

 

“So you went after a girl that’s already in love with someone?” Shauna raises an eyebrow. “That’s cold, Matthews. And I know cold.”

 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to.” She hadn’t set out to fall in love with Jackie. It had just happened. “I just wanted to-- I didn’t want her to die.”

 

“Isn’t that what she wanted?”

 

Lottie’s eyes go down to Jackie, curled up in her arms. “That doesn’t mean she-- it’s not right. We-- we all need each other.”

 

“You don’t really need her, Lottie,” Shauna says, a look of pity coming across her face. “You just want to be needed by her. It feels good. She makes you feel like the world until she gets bored or scared or annoyed.”

 

Is that really such a bad thing? To want to be needed? No one’s ever actually needed Lottie. Not her family, not her friends, not her teammates. But Jackie had. Jackie does, she says she does. Lottie believes her.

 

“I don’t care,” Lottie mumbles eventually, nuzzling into Jackie, “if she gets bored or annoyed or-- or scared. If she leaves me. I’ll still love her. I promised.” She promised.

 

Jackie stirs briefly, enough to press lips to skin before sleep pulls her back under, mumbling Lottie’s name under her breath.

 

Shauna laughs. “Seems like you cared a lot not too long ago.”

 

Lottie’s heart pounds in her chest. “What do you know?” she snaps. “You were fucking her boyfriend behind her back.”

“And she still would have forgiven me,” Shauna says. 

 

Lottie knows that’s true. They both do. “Did you even ever really love her?” she asks quietly.

 

“What’s worse?”

 

Lottie doesn’t know. They both fucking suck. “She thinks you hated her.”

 

“You saw how controlling she was. How she dictated every part of my life. How she made ours so…” Shauna frowns. “Connected.”

 

“At least you were loved by someone,” Lottie murmurs. 

 

“It loves you, Lottie. More than she ever will.”

 

Lottie feels her eyes burning. “I-- I don’t care. I love her.” She burrows into Jackie. “I love her. I’ll always love her.”

 

“Do you think that’s enough to save her?” Shauna whispers.

 

She wants to say yes. She wants it to be true. But the longer they’re out there, the less Lottie can believe herself. “Go away.”

 

“I thought we were having a good talk,” Shauna says, her face an exaggerated pout she’d never sported in life. A pantomime. “Besides, you’ll never love her the way you love It. You were made for It, for this place. Why can’t you just accept that?”

 

Lottie doesn’t notice the difference because she can’t look at Shauna. It’s painful. “I never asked for this.”

 

“Who asks to fall in love? It just kind of happens, Matthews.”

 

“What am I supposed to do?”

 

Shauna fades, but her voice remains, echoing, growing, changing. “Give in.”

 

Lottie doesn’t want to give in. But she does. So badly.

 

Eventually, her eyes close, but her grip around Jackie never loosens. 

 

Nat stops by and cleans up after a while, taking the bowl of food, the empty cup of water. She comes back with fresh food and water and some of Misty’s tea for sleeping, and she gently tries to wake Lottie up. “Hey, Lottie. We probably need to have you and Jackie eat something. Coach says she didn’t eat at all in the cave.”

 

Lottie startles awake, subconsciously shielding Jackie until she realizes it’s just Nat. She rubs her hand across her eyes, head pounding. She’s really not hungry, she feels nauseous-- but she thinks Jackie needs to eat. That needs to happen.

 

Nodding, she shifts enough to sit up, still holding onto Jackie, before she brushes a hand against her face. “Jackie,” she coos, “can you sit up do you think?”

 

Everything feels fuzzy as Jackie blinks her eyes open, the lids droopy. She presses her face against Lottie’s chest, groaning. “So sleepy.”

 

“Man, I know she doesn’t feel good,” Nat murmurs. “She’s all dirty and gross, and she doesn’t even care.”

 

“Fuck… you,” Jackie mumbles, weakly flipping Nat off.

 

Lottie feels a faint smile. “Not that bad, I guess.” She grows considerably softer as she presses her hand to Jackie’s. “C’mon, you should eat something. Then you can go back to sleep, okay?”

 

Jackie sighs, moving around until she’s sitting up, her leg wrapped up tightly and stretched out in front of her. Natalie was right; Jackie does feel gross. Very gross, like she’s still down in that hole or in the cave. She wants to scrub herself clean. She doesn’t have the energy to lift her arms. 

 

“The tea’s for both of you,” Nat says. “Don’t worry; I watched Misty make it. It’s the same thing as earlier. It’ll help with sleeping.”

 

“Here,” Lottie reaches for the tea first and holds it up to Jackie. “Drink some. It’ll help your throat.” 

 

She glances back over at Natalie, giving her a weary smile. “Thanks, again.” 

 

After hesitating, Nat gives a nod. “Yeah. Of course. Just… let me know if either of you need anything.”

 

She heads out the door, and Jackie’s eyes follow after her before she looks down at the cup. Lottie would never lie to Jackie. Jackie trusts her completely, so she takes a sip from the cup that becomes a gulp, probably too much when she starts coughing. She’s sorry, she says as much, and she lets her head loll back against Lottie’s shoulder.

 

As Nat leaves, Lottie’s eyes search the hut. It’s empty. No Shauna Shipman. 

 

When Jackie coughs, Lottie grabs the cup and rubs her back. “It’s okay,” she says, “you’re okay.” She wants Jackie to be okay. She sets the cup down and brushes her hand gently through Jackie’s hair. “Do you think you can eat a little? You need to eat something.”

 

She remembers the peanut butter bar Jackie tried to give her. She pulls it out of her pocket. “Do you want this or some of the deer meat?”

 

“I’ll split it with you,” Jackie says, hearing the crinkling of the wrapper. How weird, to have food that wasn’t caught or picked just the day before.

 

“Okay,” Lottie agrees. She’s not sure she’ll eat hers, but she’ll split it for now if it’ll get Jackie to eat. Unwrapping it, she tears it in half and holds one out to Jackie. “Here.” 

 

Jackie takes half of the protein bar and starts eating small bites. It doesn’t take long for her to realize that she’d forgotten what peanut butter tastes like. It’s a crazy thing to miss. The textures are weird, and it’s crumbly, but Jackie doesn’t care that much. It’s good. It could be better, but it’s good. “Eat,” she says, closing Lottie’s hand around the rest of it. 

 

Lottie watches Jackie eat, makes sure she actually does. She almost forgets she’s still holding the other half until Jackie points it out. “I ate earlier,” she tells her. It’s not exactly a lie. She just can’t remember when that was. “I’ll have it later, okay?” Right now, she just wants to make sure Jackie is fed and drinks enough before she goes back to sleep.

 

“Lottie,” Jackie whines, pulling back enough to look at Lottie and frown. She doesn't know what to do. She doesn’t know how to help Lottie, especially when it’s her fault. If she hadn’t gone to trek around the forest, none of this would have happened. “Please.”

 

Lottie doesn’t feel hungry at all. She feels sick, still. “I had some while you were asleep,” she says. “Don’t worry about me for now, okay? Just focus on getting better.” Lottie just wants Jackie to be better. That’s all she cares about, even as Shauna’s voice still echoes in her head.

 

“I always worry about you,” Jackie says softly.

 

Giving a soft sigh, Lottie presses a kiss to the side of Jackie’s head. “I know.” She hugs her closer. “But I’ll be okay as long as you are.”

 

Jackie tries to keep her eyes open, but she feels the weight of them grow with each blink. She presses her lips to Lottie’s neck, tries to fight off  sleep even if it feels like her body is melting against Lottie’s.

 

Lottie’s happy Jackie at least ate some of the protein bar. It would be good for her. They could eat what Nat brought them once Jackie rested some more. She kisses the top of her head, whispering, “You can rest again.” Lottie’s not going anywhere.

 

“I really missed you.” Jackie missed her so much it had ached. It was more painful than any injury. But Lottie’s here now, and she feels solid and real. She won’t leave Jackie. She won’t walk away. 

 

“I missed you, too,” Lottie murmurs. “So much.” She’d missed her so much. She’d needed her so badly. She’d been so scared without her. She still felt so afraid. She couldn’t stand the idea of losing her again. She’d almost lost her forever. Lottie’s breath stutters in her chest as she swallows down the thought.

 

Jackie can feel the way Lottie’s breath stutters, and she sniffles as tears leak out of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

 

Lottie just holds Jackie tighter. She knows if she says anything, all of the fear and pain and grief inside of her will come bursting out. It’s begging to be let go but Lottie doesn’t want to let it out. It’ll make it too real. She’s always desperate to feel real, but not this time. Not with this.

 

“I love you.” Jackie thinks that, if she says it enough, it’ll make everything okay. It’ll make everything go back to how it’s supposed to be. “I love you. I’m yours.”

 

For just a moment, Lottie wonders. She thinks about what Shauna said. She closes her eyes. “I love you, too.”

 

With those words, Jackie lets herself relax against Lottie once again, letting sleep overtake her. She wishes she could stay awake. She wishes she was better company. She wishes her stupid leg didn’t bother her so much that all she feels like she can do is sleep. She just wants to be with Lottie. Even as she drifts off, her fingers keep clinging, unable to pull away.

 

Lottie still doesn’t sleep. She can’t. Her eyes close but all she can see is Jackie's dead body or Shauna’s frost encrusted eyelashes or Laura Lee’s charred face. She’s just so afraid. She doesn’t know how to make it stop. Jackie is here in her arms but all she can think about is when she wasn’t.

 

For the most part, all Jackie does is sleep. She’s a dead weight on top of Lottie, in her arms, out of it until she’s woken up to eat or drink or relieve herself. She can’t do anything on her own. Jackie might have been pleased with the pampering, or she might have been frustrated with her own inability to do anything, but, truthfully, she’s too exhausted to muster up much energy to do anything more than cling to Lottie and occasionally mumble to her. 

 

Nat comes to check on them when she can, in between conversations with the rest of the team, with the man that used to be their coach. She doesn’t want to disturb Jackie and Lottie about all of that, but it gets to a point where she knows she needs to because something needs to be said. Something needs to be decided. 

 

Hovering at the mouth of Jackie and Lottie’s tent, she knocks before heading in. “Hey. I just… wanted to check on you two again.”

 

Time isn’t really a thing that Lottie can keep track of like this. She doesn’t know how much time has passed, she only knows that it has passed by counting each visit they get from Natalie. She thinks the sun has gone up and down at least once. The shadows in their hut had grown darker and then faded that many times. 

 

She doesn’t sleep much, if at all. She nods off every now and then but is almost always jolted awake by her own demons in her mind. They whisper to her and tell her that Jackie is gone even though she can feel her in her arms. They tell her that Jackie can’t love her the way she needs. They tell her she’ll never be enough to save her.

 

Eventually, Lottie gives up on it all. She lays on the bedding with Jackie, eyes drooping but unable to close. She doesn’t feel like she’s in her own body when the knock comes and she looks up to see Nat again. 

 

“She’s still just sleeping a lot,” Lottie manages to mumble, not moving.

 

“That’s probably for the best,” Nat says. It’s not like they have any painkillers. There’s nothing they can do to treat broken bones except wrap them up and hope for the best. And Nat’s hoping for the best, hoping her friend’s still able to walk eventually. Jackie’s always been so light on her feet; not the fastest, but still quick and controlled with her movements before they crashed in this place. It had just seemed like she was starting to get some of her confidence back before this happened.

 

Nat shifts on her feet. “We need to talk about the Coach situation. All of us.”

 

Lottie agrees. It’s easier for her to watch over Jackie while she sleeps, even if she’s so desperate to hear her voice and see her smile. She thinks Jackie looks almost peaceful when she sleeps sometimes, even as she whimpers quietly or mumbles Lottie’s name. 

 

When Nat brings up Coach, Lottie suddenly feels a rush of anger surge through her and her mind becomes more alert. She doesn’t quite sit up, but she shifts enough to look over Jackie at Nat. “What’s there to talk about?” In Lottie’s eyes, he was already guilty.

 

“I’ve listened a little to his side of things, and I want to hear what Jackie has to say about what happened, too. More than just… sleep deprived, pain-filled mumbles,” Nat tells Lottie, cringing at that look, at the tone of her voice. “We know. I mean… we know. But we don’t know why, and we don’t know what to do with him.”

 

“Who cares why?” Lottie says. It’s clearly not a real question. “He kidnapped her. And he wasn’t going to bring her back.” That was all Lottie needed to know. 

 

“But he did. That’s the thing. He brought her back, and he brought us more food and supplies. He seems… like he wants to help,” Nat tells her quietly. 

 

“So he just gets to get away with it?” Lottie says. 

 

Nat frowns. “Of course not. But we can’t just… we have to figure out what to do.”

 

“Just tell him to go back into whatever cave he crawled out from,” Lottie grumbles, laying back down and looking away. “He seemed happy enough to stay there before.”

 

“It could be helpful to have him around. He still knows more about a lot of this survival stuff than the rest of us.”

 

“Clearly you’ve already made your mind up, Nat,” Lottie says, “it sounds like you don’t need my input.”

 

“That’s not fair,” Nat says. “I want everyone’s input, including yours, including Jackie’s.”

 

“That is my input.” 

 

Still, she shifts again and gently rests a hand on Jackie’s arm. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

 

Blinking her eyes open slowly, Jackie looks up at Lottie and offers her a tired smile. “Feeling so great,” she mumbles. 

 

Lottie gives a wary smile. “I’m sure.” She presses her lips to Jackie’s forehead before motioning to Nat. 

 

“I want us to get together as a group and talk about Coach,” Nat tells Jackie. 

 

Jackie wrinkles her brow, her frown deep. “But I’m so gross right now.”

 

“I don’t think anyone will care.”

 

“I care,” Jackie groans. She holds onto Lottie tighter. “Nobody’s allowed to eat him. I told him we wouldn’t.”

 

Lottie doesn’t like the sound of any of that, but she tries to ignore it. “I can take you to the river,” she tells her, “help you clean off a little first.”

 

“We can wait to talk later over dinner,” Nat agrees. She looks at Lottie. “If you think you can get her down there, I can bring some clothes for both of you and leave them.”

 

“I can.” Lottie doesn’t have to think twice about it. She can do it. She looks back at Jackie. “Does that sound okay?”

 

Honestly, Jackie just doesn’t want Lottie to leave her. She’s okay with anything so long as Lottie doesn’t leave her. Nodding, she leans against Lottie more, sighing quietly. 

 

“I can help the two of you stand,” Nat says.

 

Lottie brushes her hand through Jackie’s hair once before moving to stand, using the wall of the hut to help her. Her legs are stiff but she feels steady enough. “I just need help lifting her.” Then she can carry Jackie to the river. She’s so light already.

 

Nat helps Lottie, and the two of them get Jackie up. 

 

At first, Jackie attempts to support some of her own weight, leaning against Lottie but planning to hobble down to the river. She feels a little annoyed about the knowledge that one of her calves is going to be more defined than the other, even more so when she realizes that the way her leg is covered is going to keep it from getting tanned. She groans, slumping against Lottie a little more. Pain, embarrassment, it all sort of blends.

 

Lottie wraps her arms around Jackie before nodding at Nat, letting her know she's got it from here. Once she's gone, Lottie bends down enough to get Jackie to hook her arms around her neck before she scoops her into her arms and starts walking. She ignores how her legs burn and her arms tremble. She knows it's not from straining them but from her lack of proper sleep, proper eating, proper rest. 

 

She tells herself she'll do it later. She thinks she will. 

 

It's lucky, though, that the river isn't too far away, and by the time they make it, Lottie’s breathing is a little labored. Still, she ignores it and sets Jackie down on a tree stump, keeping her leg straightened and away from being bumped. 

 

Silently, she reaches up to start undressing her, hesitating as her fingers graze the bottom of Jackie's shirt. It's slightly torn at the edges and dirty beyond even those first few days they'd been stranded. Lottie is almost afraid to see what sorts of cuts and bruises are hiding under the stained cloth.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jackie mumbles, her head bowed and her eyes closed. She’d noticed the way Lottie trembled, the way she hesitated. Lottie hasn’t eaten, hasn’t slept. She’s in pain, too, and it’s all Jackie’s fault. 

 

Lottie shakes her head. It's not Jackie's fault. It's Ben's. All the pain they're both going through is because of him. 

 

She blinks away some unfallen tears and lifts Jackie's shirt up and off. She makes a quiet, choked sound at the sight of the brushing along Jackie's torso. It's nothing as severe as her leg, but it still makes Lottie ache. Her fingers ghost over the skin, a silent apology for not being there, for letting this happen. 

 

Jackie presses her lips to Lottie’s jaw. “‘M okay. Only hurts a little.” She’s just happy to be back with Lottie. That makes everything worth it. That makes climbing out of the pit, being dragged across the forest, huffing toxic fumes, hobbling back, all of it’s worth it to be back with Lottie. She thinks she’d walk through hell for Lottie.

 

Lottie doesn’t think it’s okay at all. It makes something deep inside of her roil and burn. She swallows the thick lump in her throat, shaky fingers brushing down Jackie’s bare skin. “Do you think you’ll be okay to take your pants off?” she asks. 

 

She’ll have to be careful, so careful. She doesn’t want to hurt Jackie anymore than she already is.

 

“I think so,” Jackie tells her, leaning into Lottie’s touch. “It’d be nice to at least get one leg clean. D’you think my dad’s health insurance covers broken bones in the middle of nowhere?” She pauses. “Think Misty’d take it?”

 

Lottie gives a watery laugh, shaking her head. “I think she’ll take anything anyone will give her.” Breathing in deep, Lottie reaches to undo the button on Jackie’s pants, wishing this were a completely different situation. She wants to be undressing her girlfriend in a happy situation, in a situation where she can take her time for a good reason. Where she can touch her and kiss her and show her just how much she loves her with just her mouth and hands.

 

Carefully, so, so carefully, Lottie starts tugging Jackie’s shorts down, urging her to lift her hips enough to help a little. “Sorry,” she murmurs as she tries to maneuver the cloth over the makeshift cast Misty put on her leg as her fingers tremble. She feels terrible. She hates this. She hates that someone did this to Jackie. 

 

She swallows the anger rising in her throat like bile.

 

“It’s not your fault, Lott,” Jackie says, moving to help. She’s a little embarrassed that she can’t do this herself. She likes when Lottie takes off her clothes, but there’s not anything particularly sexy about this. “Come here.” She moves to tug at Lottie’s clothes. She gets that nothing’s going to happen, but Lottie’s almost as dirty as she is. They could both use this.

 

Jackie tugs at her and something inside Lottie breaks.

 

She’s wrong, it’s all Lottie’s fault. She should’ve gone with her, she should’ve told her to stay with her. She should’ve known something would happen. It had been too good for too long. She’s quiet but she’s crying and she can’t help it and she can’t make it stop. Her whole body trembles as she lays her head in Jackie’s lap, on her good leg, and sobs.

 

“Hey, hey, I’m okay. I’m okay.” And maybe Jackie isn’t at one hundred percent, but she’s there. She came back. “It’s not your fault. It’s not. You’re the reason I’m here. I promised. I promised.” She leans forward, cradling Lottie’s head and curling up as much as she can to protect Lottie. “I had to get back to you. Nothing… Nothing else mattered. Nothing else matters.”

 

Lottie can’t get words out, they’re all jumbled in her head. Jackie is there but Lottie is still worried it’s just a terrible dream. She’s worried it’s just another hallucination. She’s terrified she’ll wake up without Jackie, that someone will take her from her again. She’s terrified Jackie is already gone. She still sees her dead body. 

 

“I thought you were dead,” she stutters through heaving breaths, “I saw-- I thought-- you were gone.”

 

Jackie takes one of Lottie’s hands and presses it to her pulse. “I’m here. I’m sorry I took so long, but I’m here, and-and alive, and maybe a little worse for wear, but I’m here.”

 

Lottie grips Jackie’s pulse and feels it pumping under her palm. She tries to breathe in time with it, tries to hold back the shuddering sobs stuck in her chest. “You’re here,” she says out loud, reminds herself, makes it real. Speaks it into existence. Jackie is there and she’s alive and she came back to Lottie. 

 

She sits back up and cups Jackie’s face and looks into her eyes and convinces herself it’s real. It has to be. “I thought-- I thought It took you from me. I thought--” she thought she was going to be alone again. She doesn’t want to be alone anymore. “I’m sorry. I stopped looking. I’m sorry.”

 

It. Jackie doesn’t actually have to ask what “it” is. Maybe it’s real. Maybe it tried. Jackie doesn’t think she cares. “It can’t have me. I’m yours.” She leans forward and presses a kiss to Lottie’s lips. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to hurt yourself for me.” She looks at Lottie’s hand and frowns softly. “I guess I was too late.”

 

Lottie closes her eyes and tries her best to calm her breathing, matching Jackie’s. Lets the feeling of her soft, chapped lips fill her with the relief she’d been so desperate to feel. 

 

Opening her eyes, Lottie looks down at her wrapped hand. She barely remembers doing that to herself. She remembers Shauna and Laura Lee and the pain and grief that had rushed through her at the thought of Jackie being dead. She remembers her own reflection and the river and blood as the knife pierced through her skin. 

 

She reaches over and slowly undoes the bandage-- it’s dirty and covered in dried blood, anyway-- letting it drop to the ground next to them. She thinks it looks worse than it feels. She can’t feel it. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, the gash in her palm overlapped by the spot where the knife had dug out a hole. “I just wanted you back.”

 

Jackie’s eyes fill with tears as she looks at the wound. “I– I…” She doesn’t know what to say. She hates that Lottie hurt herself for her. She hates that Lottie hurts herself. “Please don’t do this again. I hate it.” Her own hand trembles as it takes Lottie’s, and she brings it to her lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to Lottie’s fingers. 

 

“I’ll always come back to you,” she whispers. “Nothing could keep me away. I choose you. I love you, and I choose you.”

 

Lottie’s lip quivers. She nods. “Okay.” She won’t do it anymore, for Jackie. Because she asked. Because Lottie would do anything for her, including this. Including hurt herself. She doesn’t want to hurt herself anymore. She nods again. “She said it wasn’t enough but I-- I love you, too. So much. I love you. I swear. I promise. It’s enough, right?” She’s begging, she’s begging. “Am I enough?” 

 

“Lottie, who said that wasn’t enough?” Jackie asks, feeling something cold and awful squeezing in her chest. She throws her arms around Lottie and tugs her close. “You’re everything.” She’ll tell Lottie that as much as she needs to. She hopes Lottie understands. She hopes it doesn’t take much convincing.

 

“I-- that I love you a-and that you love me. She said-- she told me it didn’t matter.” Lottie’s head hurts again. It hasn’t stopped. She burrows into Jackie. Holds her tight in her arms. “I-I’m yours. I promise. I’m yours.” She doesn’t want to be anyone’s but Jackie’s. 

 

She doesn’t want to belong to the Wilderness.

 

“It’s- it’s the only thing that matters,” Jackie says quietly. It’s the only reason she was still there. It’s the only reason she’d pushed and pushed and pushed to get back, to keep living, to not give up. “I need you.”

 

“You promised.” Lottie tries to calm her breathing more. She’s trying so hard to not panic. “I-- you want to stay, right? You want that? With me? I-- you don’t want to leave me?”

 

Jackie holds Lottie tighter. “I want to stay with you. I won’t leave you again, okay? I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Never again.”

 

Lottie wants to believe her. She wants to believe her so badly, but the dark, cruel voice of Shauna Shipman keeps reminding her, in the back of her head, that Jackie had wanted to die. Jackie hadn’t wanted to stay with Lottie, she’d wanted to be with Shauna. 

 

“You-- you want stay with me, right? You don’t want to-- you don’t want to die anymore, right?”

 

“I don’t want to die anymore,” Jackie murmurs. “There was– In the caves, there’s this part that’s got these nasty fumes, the kind that makes you see things. But I had to get back to you. Nothing mattered but getting to you.”

 

Lottie can’t help but ask, “What did you see?” Did she see Lottie? Or did she see Shauna? 

 

Jackie stays quiet for a moment before she tells the truth: “We were at the lake, but you couldn’t come in. I– I tried to get to you, but Shauna… she held me back. And I kept trying, but you- you walked away. But I tried. Coach Scott pulled me out before it was too late.”

 

“I-- I wouldn’t. I would never-- I won’t walk away, I wouldn’t.” Lottie feels a little desperate. She needs Jackie to know she would never walk away from her. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

 

“Please don’t,” Jackie whispers. “Please.”

 

Lottie shakes her head. “I won’t. I won’t. I promise. I won’t.” 

 

Pulling back, Jackie faces Lottie, brushing her thumb over Lottie’s cheek before leaning in for another kiss, slow and deep and full of all her love. She knows Lottie’s going through something awful. Maybe Jackie’s pretty shaken, too. But this is real. It’s the only real thing left, and Jackie will do anything to convince Lottie of that.

 

The kiss isn’t just something desperate, it’s something needy. It’s something full of every feeling they’re both experiencing. It’s everything and more and Lottie leans into it just as desperately, wrapping her arms around Jackie and pulling herself to her. 

 

All Jackie wants is to keep Lottie close. She relaxes into the kiss, and she’s still so tired and gross feeling, but all of that seems to fall away when she has her lips pressed against Lottie’s. Nothing really matters except for this. Jackie came back. She came back for Lottie, and she’ll keep coming back for her. As long as Lottie wants her, Jackie will be there.

 

Lottie wants her forever. She wants to be Jackie’s forever. She presses in more to the kiss, tangles her hands in Jackie’s hair and brushes her tongue along her lips. She knows she needs to be careful, to be gentle with her, but she just wants to taste her. She needs to know it’s real.

 

It’s kind of terrible, but Jackie doesn’t really give a fuck about her leg at this point. All she cares about is Lottie. She easily parts her lips, letting Lottie’s tongue slide into her mouth, so fucking grateful she didn’t eat any of Coach Scott’s disgusting bat. Her hands slide under Lottie’s shirt, asking her to tug it off without words.

 

Lottie reaches down and pulls her shirt off, parting for only a moment from Jackie’s lips to throw it off her head before she’s back to kissing Jackie, hands going to her bare skin to pull her body against Jackie’s. She’s still on her knees, digging into the dirt, but she doesn’t care. She’d beg on her hands and knees if that’s what Jackie wanted.

 

Jackie knows that they came out this way to wash off, but that’s really the least of her worries at this point. She’s so comforted by the way that Lottie’s skin feels against her own, warm and soft even now, that she just wants to keep kissing and touching. She wants to curl up on Lottie’s lap and melt into her skin. She wants to never leave. When Jackie pulls away, her head is spinning, but she doesn’t care. “I want to be with you,” she whispers. “I want to. I want to.” She needs to, too, but that’s already been established, she thinks. Wants are choices. Jackie made a choice, and it was Lottie.

 

Nodding, Lottie stands enough to shuck off her pants and underwear before she picks Jackie back up and walks them into the water. It’ll be easier for her to hold onto Jackie in there and Jackie won’t have to put weight on her leg. 

 

Because Lottie wants her, too. No, Lottie needs her. She shows her that by crashing their lips together again and licking into Jackie’s mouth, holding onto her tightly. “I want you, too,” Lottie whispers against her. “I need you.” 

 

The cool water feels so good on Jackie’s skin, even if it weighs down her leg. She wastes no time wrapping her arms around Lottie’s neck, hands in her hair. She only pulls back to breathe, staring at the strand of saliva that connects them before lapping it up. “Say I’m yours,” she begs. 

 

“You’re mine,” Lottie says immediately. She’s hers and Lottie is Jackie’s. “You’re mine.”

 

“I’m yours,” Jackie agrees, sighing contently. 

 

Lottie presses their lips back together, scrapes her teeth against her bottom lip before sucking on it. Fingers dig into Jackie’s back. She wants her. She loves her. She needs her.

 

Jackie moans softly against Lottie’s lips, her head feeling light and fuzzy. The effects of whatever was in that tea are still floating around her system, but she’s okay with fighting it. Her lips part as an invitation. Slowly, she moves enough to brush their chests together. 

 

Lottie’s tongue slips back into Jackie’s mouth, licking against her tongue, too. She’d missed the taste of her. It had only been three days. It had been so long. She was used to falling asleep in Jackie’s arms, used to kissing her good night and kissing her good morning. She was used to this, bare skin against bare skin, chests pressed together, warm and comforting. 

 

Her arm wraps around Jackie’s back to hold in her place, the other cupping her cheek. She presses into the kiss desperately, savoring the taste. She thinks it’ll fix every broken part inside of her if she lets it.

 

That was the longest that Jackie and Lottie had been separated since they’d gotten together, and Jackie doesn’t want to do that ever again. She can’t do this without Lottie anymore. She can’t exist without Lottie anymore. She doesn’t want to. 

 

It feels so good to have Lottie hold her, and Jackie feels like she’s melting into Lottie’s touch, into her kiss. She wants to live in this moment. She needs to. Her hands dig into Lottie’s hair, and she sighs happily at the feeling of the soft strands.

 

Lottie can’t stop kissing Jackie, she doesn’t want to. She nips at her lips, kisses down to the side of her mouth, to her jaw, taking in the flavor of her skin, how it tastes earthy and salty and yet still like Jackie. It’s Jackie. She kisses her neck and sighs into her pulse, wrapping her lips around it and letting it beat against her tongue. Real, real, real.

 

Jackie lets out a breathy sigh. Her good foot touches the riverbed, helping to keep her held up as she presses in closer and tilts her head for Lottie’s mouth. She lets the water clean her hands, washing away the blood and dirt before she starts running her fingers all over Lottie’s body. She stops at her chest, touching and massaging, wanting to make Lottie feel good. Jackie wants to apologize for being gone for so long. She never wants to be gone that long again.

 

Lottie sinks a little lower into the water, letting the chill of it cool her body off, washing away the sweat and ache and panic that had been coating her skin for the last three days. She’d so desperately missed Jackie, all she wants is to touch her and feel her and hold her. Taste her, hear her, love her. Her breath stutters in her chest at the feeling of hands touching her. She can’t help the tears that start to form in her eyes. She’d thought, if even just briefly, that she’d never get to have this again. That she’d lost this, lost Jackie, lost the only thing that ever mattered to her. 

 

She wraps her lips around a spot on Jackie’s neck and sucks. Kisses, teeths gently. She’s too afraid to bite down, too afraid to hurt her when she’s already in so much pain. She just wants Jackie to know it’s still real. It’s so real.

 

“‘S good,” Jackie slurs out. It’s so good. She loves the way that Lottie’s mouth feels on her, and she loves the way that Lottie reacts to her touch. Jackie keeps it light as she feels sensitive skin pebbling under her palms before she focuses there. Her fingers pinching, her thumbs circling. It’s just slow and sloppy. She gets tired from holding her head up so she presses it against Lottie. Jackie sighs happily. “I missed you. Not just this. Missed you.”

 

Lottie shudders under Jackie’s touch, pressing lips against Jackie’s temple. She lets her head rest on her shoulder, back arching into Jackie’s touch. “I missed you, too,” Lottie sighs, “so much. All of it. All of you.” So fucking much it hurt. She doesn’t say that, she thinks Jackie knows. 

 

She lets her free hand drift down between them, tracing gently along her stomach. “I’m here,” she murmurs, “you’re here.” They’re together again and Lottie isn’t ever going to leave her again.

 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours,” Jackie says softly. She’s Lottie’s, and she has been for a long time now. It feels like it, at least. It feels like forever. She doesn’t know how to live without this anymore. 

 

“Mine,” Lottie repeats, nuzzling back against Jackie’s pulse. She kisses it as she lets her hand dip between Jackie’s legs, feeling her warmth even through the cool water. Jackie was hers, no matter what anyone said. Like this, she’s just Lottie’s.

 

“Yes,” Jackie whispers. She’s Lottie’s. She shivers, sighs, wraps her arms tight around Lottie. It’s annoying that she can’t move her legs the way that she wants to. It’s not fair. But she tries to make up for it by wrapping her arms around Lottie and spreading her fingers. Her hands brush all over Lottie’s skin, taking her in. 

 

Yes. Yes, she her’s. And Lottie is Jackie’s. It doesn’t matter what anyone says to her. Real or not, dead or alive. This is the most true thing Lottie knows-- they are each other’s. “I’m yours,” she whispers into Jackie’s ear. “I’m only yours.” She moves her hand between Jackie’s legs, holding onto her tightly, shivering under her touch. 

 

“Mine,” Jackie says. Lottie’s hers. She won’t walk away. She won’t leave Jackie alone. She won’t walk away just because of a fight and go out into the cold forever. A soft moan works its way out of her throat, and she sighs. “Slow. I wanna… wanna feel you.” She presses a kiss to Lottie’s cheek, her jaw.

 

Lottie nods. She can do that. She can do whatever Jackie wants. She wants to. She moves her hand slowly, fingers delicate but purposeful, letting Jackie feel every movement. She sighs against her, lips brushing against the side of her head. 

 

Feeling her breath stutter, Jackie’s eyes flutter shut. “I love you,” she whispers. “I love you. I love you.” And this is what she wants because she can feel Lottie. Her hips move, wanting to feel Lottie deeper. Slow and sweet and comforting. It’s perfect. Everything about Lottie is so perfect.

 

“I love you, too,” Lottie breathes, “so much.” As Jackie’s hips move into her touch, she presses in more, sliding two fingers inside of her, still taking her time, going slow, letting Jackie feel each and every movement. 

 

Jackie shudders and moans. A few tears slip down her cheeks. It’s good. It’s so good. She missed Lottie so much. Now that she’s got her, Jackie never wants to let Lottie go. She hopes she never has to let her go again. 

 

Lottie kisses some of Jackie’s tears away, keeping a slow, tender pace between her legs. She wants her to feel her so deeply it’ll never go away. She’ll never stop feeling Lottie’s touch, even if they’re apart. She never wants to be apart from her again. 

 

“You’re so good,” Jackie moans. “Lottie.” She moves with Lottie, and it’s slow and aching and perfect. It’s everything she needs. It’s everything she wants. Jackie feels like she matters. She feels like she belongs, and all those fears that had preyed on her when they were apart seem to be washing away. She brushes a hand through Lottie’s hair and uses it to tilt Lottie’s face to her own, lips to lips, sinking into a slow, wet kiss. 

 

All Lottie can do is lean into the kiss. It’s all she wants to do, all she cares to do. All that matters. Jackie is all that matters in this moment. In every moment, really. She kisses her back, parts her lips for Jackie, licks into her, tastes her again and again. She curls her fingers, slow and sweet. “I love you,” she slurs against Jackie’s mouth, “I love you so much.” 

 

“I love you, too.” It’s all they can really seem to say. Jackie doesn’t mind. Those are quickly becoming her favorite words. She’s always loved to hear them, but, god, it feels so good to say them, too. It feels so good to know that no one’s going to try and stop her. Lottie is so sweet and soft and lovely. How could Jackie not love her? She doesn’t understand how anyone couldn’t. Then again, she’s drunk off the way Lottie touches and kisses her. Maybe she’s a little biased.

 

It’s all Lottie can think about. How much she loves Jackie. How much she wants to hold her like this. How much she’d longed to do it. How terrified she’d been she’d never get to do it again. Never get to hold her again. To hear her sigh her name, or call it out. To hear her moan as Lottie fucks her, touches her right. It feels almost too good to be true. But she knows it is. She knows.

 

It’s such a soft, sweet, real moment. Jackie thinks it’s what they both need. They’re both injured and hungry and exhausted, and they’ve both driven themselves mad worrying about the other, but, at this moment, there’s nothing else that matters. Lottie feels so good. She always makes Jackie feel so good. Jackie moans quietly, happily, panting into Lottie’s mouth as she smiles against her lips.

 

As Lottie can feel Jackie’s smile, she finds herself smiling, too. She’s still exhausted and her mind is still cloudy, but Jackie is home and so the rest of it will fix itself in time. She has to believe that. She does. Jackie being back, being real, will fix her.

 

She keeps her pace steady, moving her hand in long, slow strokes, pressing all the way into Jackie before pulling back out, her other hand splayed against her back, holding their bodies together.

 

“God,” Jackie moans. “Lottie. Lottie.” It’s so good. Nothing in the world’s ever felt so good. Nothing else will ever compare. They’re both so tired, and it shows, but it’s still wonderful, and it still makes Jackie’s toes curl. Well, it’s more of a twitch on her bad leg, but it’s nice to know she can move everything, even if it hurts. Jackie tugs Lottie even closer, sighing against her mouth.

 

Lottie doesn’t think she’d mind if this moment just lasted forever, even with all the pain and exhaustion and hunger. Because the rest of it is everything she’s always wanted. Jackie in her arms, sighing her name, kissing her. Sure, they’ve been like this so many times before, but right now, it feels like the most amazing thing in the world. Because she’d almost lost this. Just a few days ago she’d been in bliss, only to have it ripped away from her.

 

Never again. She would never let anyone take Jackie from her again. And right now, she takes her time, savoring every movement and feeling and sigh, swallowing soft moans and her name on Jackie’s breath. 

 

Jackie’s pleasure comes slow, at first, and then all at once, making her gasp into Lottie’s mouth. She tries to keep kissing, but her mouth just ends up moving sloppily against Lottie’s own. It’s just so good. She likes how close they are, how good it feels. It’s beautiful. Lottie is beautiful.

 

“You’re… so good,” Jackie mumbles, slumping forward even more. Her head rests against Lottie’s chest. “I love you so much. Not just– not just because of this. Just love you a lot.”

 

Lottie wraps Jackie back up in her arms, lays her own head on top of Jackie's and lets her listen to Lottie's heartbeat. It's a little off kilter, thudding against her sternum, uneven but steady. “I love you, too,” she reiterates, and she'll repeat it again and again until everyone knows it's true if she has to. And she knows Jackie loves her back, she does, even if voices try to tell her otherwise. 

 

Sometimes she just needs to be reminded. This is always a good way. Just holding Jackie works, too, and Lottie can feel herself relaxing even as she continues to curl herself around Jackie like a protective barrier. 

 

Even if she's still so worried someone will try and take her away again.

 

Jackie’s content enough to be held, the cool water and Lottie’s warm body soothing. She savors every thudding beat of Lottie’s heart, let’s it pump through her, sweet and real. Lottie’s real. She’s real, and it’s wonderful.

 

They stay like that for several minutes, just holding each other, before Jackie softly says, “We should probably rinse off.” That was, after all, what they’d came for.

 

Lottie doesn't want this moment to end, but she knows it has to. She still feels a little wild, raw with her worry, but she pushes it down and nods, pulling away just enough to press her lips to Jackie's forehead, brushing a hand through her hair. It still trembles and there's fresh blood welling up around the hole in her palm, the old cracked, dried blood washed away in the water. 

 

“Oh, baby,” Jackie murmurs, taking Lottie’s hand as she looks it over again, wincing. It’s so painful to look at; Jackie can’t even imagine what it feels like. “My poor Lottie. I’m so sorry.” It was Jackie’s fault. Lottie did it because Jackie was gone, and now she’s hurt. “I’m so sorry.”

 

Lottie feels a spike of shame as Jackie takes her hand and she looks away. “It doesn't hurt,” she mumbles. It's not nearly as painful as she thinks Jackie's leg is. That's a real injury, that's something that deserves sympathy over. 

 

She curls her fingers into her palm to try and cover the wound. “How does your leg feel?”

 

Pressing a kiss to Lottie’s fingers, Jackie doesn’t quite believe that it doesn’t hurt, but she doesn’t say anything about that. “We still need to keep it covered. I don’t want it to get infected.” She shrugs. Her leg moves through the water as she slowly bends the knee. “The water feels nice. The, uh, splint and cloth getting wet’s made it heavy, but it’s better. I’m just… tired.”

 

Lottie just nods. She will-- or, at least, Misty will make sure she does. 

 

“Don't move it too much,” she says, feeling Jackie shift under the water. 

 

Lottie lets out a long breath. “Yeah, me too.” She's fucking exhausted, really, but she's still afraid to sleep too long. She folds Jackie back into her arms. “We can sleep again soon.”

 

Humming, Jackie leans forward, trying not to move too much. “Sorry,” she mumbles. She’s looking forward to sleeping again, to curling up in Lottie’s arms and knowing that she’ll be there when Jackie wakes up. She could go to sleep right now, in the water. Lottie’s just so comforting. Sweet and solid and real. And Jackie’s. Lottie is Jackie’s. 

 

Jackie groans. “Soon. Just gotta… group meeting, I guess,” she says. Hopefully it will be quick. It’s not like they’re going to kill Coach Scott. Besides, he brought Jackie back. That counts for something, right? 

 

Lottie’s body subconsciously stiffens at the mention of it. She holds Jackie tighter. “Yeah.” She wants to skip it, really. She doesn’t think she can look Coach Scott in the face and be okay after everything that had happened. After he had taken Jackie from her and never actually intended to bring her back. 

 

The thought makes her shiver again and she presses her face into Jackie’s neck. She doesn’t want her to get taken away again. She’s so afraid it’s going to happen again.

 

“Meeting and then sleep,” Jackie murmurs, relaxing into Lottie’s hold. Her lips press against Lottie’s collarbone. “Sleep and not getting up. You’re gonna get tired of me.”

 

Lottie shakes her head. “I could never “ She would never. If it wasn't impractical, Lottie thinks she could spend every minute of every day with Jackie and still miss her. She's never felt this way about someone before, it still scares her sometimes. But she's so much more afraid of losing her again, for good, that it makes her want to never leave her side. 

 

“You’re sweet,” Jackie tells her. She worries, though, that, after this, Lottie’s just going to get sick of spending time with her. She’ll grow tired of Jackie, she’ll get that Jackie’s too much, too needy, too selfish. But she likes Jackie now. Maybe that’s enough, Jackie thinks, stopping her kisses and instead nibbling on Lottie’s collarbone.

 

“It's the truth.” Lottie wants Jackie to believe her, to know in her bones that Lottie could never get tired of her. Ever. It's not something Lottie can fathom, not when being with Jackie feels more like a need than breathing or sleeping or eating. 

 

Her eyes slip closed and she lets out a slow breath, the feeling of Jackie's teeth scraping gently on her skin making her shiver pleasantly. Every way Jackie makes Lottie feel is the best feeling ever, she thinks. It's something so deep inside of her. Something she can't live without.

 

Jackie laughs against Lottie’s skin. “Still sweet.” It’s also sweet, the way Lottie shivers when Jackie touches her. She wants to make Lottie feel good. God, she likes it just as much as she likes when Lottie touches her. It’s nice to make someone feel good and know that they like it because it’s her, not just because she’s there. 

 

“If you say so.” Lottie just lays her head back on Jackie’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. She’s getting cold but she doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to get out of the water. It’s nice to be able to hold Jackie like this without having to strain or feeling the way her body trembles now. She feels like leaving this moment will break whatever spell of peace that’s come over them and she desperately wants to hang onto it.

 

Closing her lips, Jackie sucks on Lottie’s collarbone and pulls her closer, pressing them flush together. It’s a bit of a balancing act, but it’s easier to do this standing right now than to figure it out later out of the water. Jackie doesn’t know if she’s going to be awake long enough when they get back to do what she wants. She needs to make the most of this, right here, right now. Her hand slips between them, pressing between Lottie’s legs, ghosting over her thighs.

 

A shiver of pleasure runs up Lottie’s spine, into her chest, warmth spreading out like a slow leak. Her hips move into Jackie’s touch almost subconsciously, seeking out Jackie’s touch, her affection. She loves the feeling of her. She loves that Jackie likes touching her. That she seems to crave it as much as Lottie does. Like they just can’t keep their hands off each other. 

 

And, really, they can’t. Lottie doesn’t care to try. She wants this all the time, to feel the reassuring weight of her lover in her arms or laying on top of her, beside her. She just needs it. It’s her only real medication out here. It’s the only kind she wants.

 

Jackie uses her other hand to keep herself held up, pressed against Lottie as she teases. Featherlight touches, slow and methodical, brush against Lottie’s skin, not quite touching where Lottie wants it. Where Jackie wants it, too. She’s teasing both of them in a way. 

 

She just wants to drag this out. She can’t help it. There’s something so lovely about the way that Lottie leans into her, the way that she shivers. It makes Jackie’s head swim. She’s okay with that, too. Finally, though, she pushes two fingers inside, savoring how warm Lottie is, inside and out. 

 

Lottie doesn’t think she’d mind if all Jackie did was tease her like this. Every touch was so light and inviting. So wanting. So needy. Lottie feels that way, too. She leans into it more, into Jackie, keeping her arms wrapped around her, unwilling to let go. She’s not going to let go if she can help it.

 

Her body shudders and she inhales sharply, hips moving into Jackie’s touch. God, she loves her. So much. She’d been so terrified, truly afraid she’d lost her. But she had her now. She has her. She sighs her name, brushes her lips against Jackie’s shoulder.

 

“You’re so pretty,” Jackie whispers, her eyes fluttering closed as she moves against Lottie, savoring the way that Lottie moves into her, the way she sighs so sweetly. “And you’re so warm.” 

 

Jackie has called Lottie pretty a hundred times over but every time, it makes Lottie blush. Plenty of people have told Lottie she’s pretty, but only Jackie says it like it’s a real thing. It only matters to Lottie when Jackie says it. She exhales against her skin, feeling the chill of it under her lips. She loves the way her cool skin compliments Lottie’s warmth. Lottie’s always been warm with no one to share it with.

 

Now, she has Jackie. She wraps her arms around Jackie’s shoulders and feels skin against skin. “You feel so good,” she murmurs.

 

“Good. Good.” Jackie thinks the same. She thinks Lottie feels so good, kind of perfect. She loves it when they’re this close, when they’re inside each other. It’s not even just about sex, although the sex is amazing. It’s closeness and intimacy, feeling so connected and real. Jackie just never thought she’d get something like this. She never thought it’d feel so nice. 

 

Lottie thinks that if she could, she’d crawl inside of Jackie and stay there forever. She wants to be with her forever. She’d let Jackie carve her out and hold her together if she wanted. She wants it. She wants her, only her. Wants to feel like this all the time. 

 

She rolls her hips into Jackie’s hand, letting herself take in every small feeling that comes with it. A breathy moan leaves her throat. She wants Jackie to know how good she makes her feel. She makes her feel like the most important thing in the world.

 

Jackie moans quietly along with Lottie, feeling her own skin heat up just from her movement. It’s just so good. It’s so good to know that she can make Lottie feel like this. She’s always thought she was good at making people feel good. Or, at least Jeff (and Shauna never complained when they kissed). But that had been simple, different. Not this. It’s nice that Lottie seems to think Jackie’s good at this. She curls her fingers, adds another. Her other hand is focused on making sure she’s stable, wrapped around Lottie, but she presses her lips against soft skin once again and sucks.

 

Lottie feels herself shudder again, breath coming up quicker. “Jackie,” she moans, face pressed to her neck. Louder still as Jackie’s mouth wraps around some of Lottie’s skin. As Lottie feels another finger slipping inside of her. It makes her head swim, dizzy with the feeling. Drunk on how Jackie makes her feel. Wanting more of her, needing it. She stutters, inhales, moans into her skin. Fingers curling up into Jackie’s hair. “So good,” she slurs, “I-- need you.” She needs her. She can’t survive without her. She doesn’t want to try. “Please.”

 

“I’m right here,” Jackie whispers. “Right here. I’m not going anywhere.” And she won’t. Never again. She’ll be right where Lottie can see her, where she can see Lottie, and she’ll make her feel so good. So fucking good all the time that she won’t even think about hurting herself again. Jackie doesn’t want Lottie to ever think about hurting herself again. She bites down on Lottie’s neck, not hard but enough for her to feel it. 

 

Lottie gasps, rolling her head to the side to give Jackie more room. The feeling rolls down her spine and into the pit of her stomach, between her legs, making her moan. She can feel it building, more and more, but she wants to hold onto it, just a little longer. She wants to stay here with Jackie, just like this. “Stay,” she begs, pleads, “stay with me.” She doesn’t want her to leave again.

 

Jackie presses open mouthed kisses against Lottie’s skin. “I will. I promise.” She keeps moving against her, keeps touching Lottie and holding her and loving her. God, she really, really loves her. She’s never loved anyone like this. She’s never let herself. “I promise.”

 

She’d promised. She’d promised to stay and then she’d left Lottie and Lottie hadn’t known what to do. She doesn’t want to think about that right now. She just wants to let herself get lost in the feeling of Jackie holding her and kissing her and fucking her. And it builds inside of her as she buries her face against Jackie’s shoulder, the tension like a wire, pulling and pulling until finally it snaps and Lottie cries out, holding onto Jackie tightly. Tighter. She doesn’t want to let go. She doesn’t want to let her go.

 

“You promised.” She’s panting and it’s not just from her release. There’s tears on her face. “You promised.” She’d promised she wouldn’t leave her and then she hadn’t come back and Lottie hadn’t known what to do. She still didn’t know what to do except hold her.

 

There’s a difference in Lottie’s voice that lets Jackie know that something’s wrong, and she pulls back. Her own eyes are glassy. “I know. I’m sorry.” She thinks she’ll be sorry the rest of her life. She thinks she’ll be sorry every time she sees Lottie’s hand. It’s worse than the scar on her forehead to Jackie. Jackie can’t just ignore this. She’s too close to Lottie now. There’s no separation between the two of them like there had been before. 

 

“Never again,” Jackie murmurs. “I’ll never leave you again.”

 

Lottie hadn’t meant to break down like this. She had wanted to stay in the warm peace that they’d found in the water, in each other’s arms. She wants to stay in the place where Jackie never left her that morning and Lottie never had to imagine a world without her. “Please,” she begs again, quieter, her voice broken, “please don’t leave me.”

 

“I won’t. I won’t. I’m gonna follow you everywhere. You’re gonna get sick of me.” Jackie moves her hand from between Lottie’s legs and holds onto her, tight. Lottie’s going to get sick of Jackie hobbling after her, but she’ll do it for the rest of their lives. She’s not going anywhere ever again.

 

Lottie shakes her head. “I won’t.” She won’t, she knows she won’t. She can already feel panic building at just the thought of Jackie being gone again. She wants to believe her. She wants to believe that Jackie won’t ever leave her again. 

 

There’s still a small voice of doubt in her head, one that sounds too similar to Shauna Shipman’s. Do you really think that’s enough?

 

“Even when I follow you to the bathroom?” Jackie manages to tease, though there’s a slight sniffle in her voice.

 

Lottie just nods. Even then. She wants Jackie to be with her in every moment, with every breath. She’s so afraid if she lets go again, Jackie will disappear for good. “Stay with me.”

 

Sighing quietly, a happy and relieved sound, Jackie presses a kiss to Lottie’s chin. “Okay. I won’t go anywhere. I’m yours. I’m yours.”

 

Circling Jackie back up in her arms, Lottie burrows against her. She believes her, she does. She has to. She thinks she might die if she doesn’t. She has to believe her. “I’m yours,” she repeats, “I’m yours, too. I promise.” 

 

Holding Lottie tight, Jackie can’t do anything but agree. “I promise.” She’ll do whatever Lottie wants, whatever she needs. Anything to make sure that they’re both okay. Jackie is more than aware of the fact that she can’t do this without Lottie, that she can’t be okay if Lottie’s not okay. 

 

Eventually, Lottie shifts her head and glances over at the riverbed to see a new pile of clothes waiting for them. Nat must’ve snuck them over and Lottie just feels a little bad, relying on her so much when she has so much on her shoulders already.

 

She leans her forehead against Jackie’s. “We should probably head out.”

 

“I think I’m getting kind of wrinkly,” Jackie agrees. Even if she doesn’t want to get out. The water’s so soothing, especially on her leg, and she knows it’s going to hurt worse when she gets out. She’s ready for it to stop hurting. She’s getting pretty tired of it, actually.

 

Nodding, Lottie grips Jackie against her and hooks an arm under her legs, trying her best not to bump the broken one before she starts heading for the river bank, holding onto Jackie tightly. Her legs shake as she walks them up to where Nat has left them clean clothes, setting Jackie down as carefully as possible on the tree stump. 

 

She feels exhausted and heavy, arms like lead, but she bends down and picks up the blanket they use for a towel and wraps it around Jackie. She doesn’t say much, her mind feels tired and she can’t think very well, but she methodically moves to help Jackie dry off, afraid that stopping will have her breaking down again. She doesn’t want to do that again.

 

Jackie tries to help Lottie where she can, moving her arms and helping to towel herself off. She can practically feel how exhausted Lottie is. They’ll get to rest soon. Hopefully, Lottie can rest soon. After whatever meeting Nat wants to have. Jackie’s leg probably needs to be redone in dry wraps. Or maybe it’ll just dry out on its own. She remembers when Dave Madison broke his arm and ended up in a cast, and he hadn’t been allowed to get it wet at all. But this was different.

 

Worried, she murmurs to Lottie as she gets her clothes on, “I can probably walk back if you let me lean on you. So you don’t have to carry me all the way back. I don’t want you to over do it.”

 

Once Jackie is dry, Lottie does her best to dry herself off, wringing out her wet hair as much as she can. It still feels heavy, but she thinks she can manage. She tugs on her shirt and pants before turning back to help Jackie. 

 

She shakes her head. “I’ll be okay.” She doesn’t want to make Jackie walk if she doesn’t have to. They don’t have a crutch for her yet and Lottie thinks that they’ll have to shave down the one Lottie had used all those months ago so that it’s the right height for Jackie. It shouldn’t be too hard.

 

“Come here,” Jackie says, holding her hand out for the blanket so that she can take it and motioning for Lottie to move closer so that she can wring out her hair a little more. Jackie knows how heavy it can be. It just holds water like a sponge, all thick and soft. Jackie just wants to bury her face in it most of the time.

 

As she lets Lottie help her with her clothes, Jackie sighs softly. “I just… don’t want you to get too tired. You’re already overdoing it.”

 

Lottie does as she’s bid and crawls over to Jackie, sitting next to her on the ground. She rests her head on Jackie’s good leg again, wrapping her arm around it. “I know.” She knows but she doesn’t think it matters. She doesn’t want anyone else to be near Jackie right now, she’s too afraid they’ll try and take her away. She doesn’t want to let go of her for the same reason.

 

“It’s just one more time,” she reassures her, “we can make you a better crutch tomorrow morning.”

 

“I don’t think I want you near any knives,” Jackie says softly, attempting a tease even if it falls flat. “Someone else can worry about the crutch. Just stay with me, alright?” She leans forward to press a kiss to the crown of Lottie’s head. “Just stay with me.”

 

Lottie half frowns. She’s too tired to feel upset by the tease. She knows Jackie doesn’t mean it that way, anyway. Still. “I didn’t mean to.” She’d lost control of herself in those last few moments before Nat had found her. She’d blacked out and when she’d come to, there was a knife pierced through her hand. She knew she’d done it to herself but she hadn’t cared. She still doesn’t.

 

“Okay,” Lottie says quietly, “I’ll stay with you.”

 

Jackie kisses Lottie’s hair again, brushing her fingers through it. “I know you didn’t mean to. I just…” She takes a deep breath in and a deep breath out. “Worry.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Lottie murmurs. She hadn’t meant to. She doesn’t want Jackie to worry. It seems like the only thing she can do is make Jackie worry. 

 

“‘S okay,” Jackie mumbles. It’s not okay that Lottie hurt herself, but Jackie knows that some of it is because of her brain. She knows there are some things that Lottie can’t help. Jackie loves her no matter what. “Okay, we should– should get back. I don’t want you to get too tired carrying me.”

 

Lottie sits up and nods. She moves to stand, folding up their dirty clothes into the dirty blanket and setting them by the tree to wash with the rest of the clothes tomorrow before she comes back over to Jackie, kneeling and holding out her hands for her. 

 

It’s easy enough to scoop her into her arms but standing up straight makes her tremble again. She can make it back to camp, though, it’s not that far.

 

By the time they do get there, dinner is already being handed out and Lottie sets Jackie down gently on their normal plane seats. Everyone is more quiet than normal, no one seems to want to talk about anything that’s happened. They’re all pretty tired, too.

 

Mari hands Lottie two bowls and Lottie returns to Jackie, sitting next to her and holding out a bowl. “Here.” 

 

Taking the bowl, Jackie gives Lottie a tired smile before leaning against her. She knows she should eat. She kind of just wants to sleep now, though. Lottie’s so warm, and she makes Jackie feel so safe. 

 

Lottie doesn’t feel very hungry, either, but she knows she needs to eat, so she picks at her food silently, chewing on small bits. She glances over at Jackie. “Please eat,” she whispers, “just a little.” She can see how tired Jackie is, but it was important for her to eat so that she could heal and stay healthy.

 

One bite at a time, Jackie eats a little of her food, leaning against Lottie. The bowl is loose in her hand, on her lap. This is frustrating. She hasn’t even done that much. Why is she tired? She doesn’t want to be tired. She shouldn’t be tired. But Lottie’s so warm. But Jackie needs to do what Lottie says.

 

Noting how exhausted Jackie is getting, Lottie reaches over to help her hold up her plate before searching for Nat, giving her a look. A ‘let's hurry this shit up’ look. She just wants to get this over with so she can lay down with Jackie again. She wants to sleep, at least a little bit.

 

Nat shifts in her seat, looking uncomfortable before she sets her bowl down and clears her throat. “We all need to talk about Coach.”

 

The man in question wasn’t around the fire with them, at least not at the moment, but neither was Misty, so Jackie assumes he’s around somewhere. 

 

“We know he’s guilty,” Tai says. “What’s there to talk about?”

 

At least someone is on her side, Lottie thinks. Though it's strange that it's Tai. 

 

“We gotta decide what to do with him,” Akilah pipes up. “Like…is he just gonna stay here with us?”

 

Lottie's grip tightens. She doesn't think he should be allowed to. She doesn't say anything out loud.

 

“I mean, he tried to kill us,” Van says. 

 

Mari shrugs. “It only makes sense, right?”

 

“Hey, no, we’re not-- We are not killers,” Nat says. 

 

“I told him we wouldn’t,” Jackie mumbles, leaning into Lottie’s touch. “I told him we weren’t like that. We wouldn’t kill him. We wouldn’t eat him.”

 

Van snorts. “He’s probably too tough to eat.”

 

“So, what? We just let him run loose?” Tai asks. “He knows where we live now. What if he gets the bright idea that we’re all cannibalistic monsters again and tries for round two?”

 

“We could… keep him here,” Nat says. “To watch him and make sure he doesn’t try anything else.”

 

Lottie sits up a little, looking down at Jackie. She told him that? Her eyes go around to the others. 

 

“So he gets to burn down our home and kidnap Jackie and all we're going to do is give him a slap on the wrist?” she says, indignant. “Show him around the place and pamper him?”

 

“He saved me, too,” Jackie argues weakly. “He could have left me down there. He helped with my leg.” She doesn’t want to fight about this. “He set the cabin on fire because he thought– he thought we’d turned into monsters. Killed Javi on purpose. If we hurt him, if we kill him, then we’re exactly what he thinks we are.”

 

“Helped you?” Lottie is confused. Why is Jackie defending him? “He took you, Jackie. Held you captive.” Lottie doesn't think she even cares about the cabin right now. Maybe she should but she doesn't. All she cares about is Jackie.

 

Jackie reaches for Lottie’s hand. “And he brought me back. He’s still– He’s still Coach Scott.” She looks at the rest of them. “I think he still cares about all of us. He just did something shitty because he was scared.”

 

“Yeah, because the natural reaction when you’re afraid is to try and kill people,” Mari says.

 

“It’s extreme circumstances. He was starving, too. And just like all of us wouldn’t do the things we did then now, neither would he,” Jackie tells them.

 

Lottie pulls her hand back. She doesn't understand. Why is Jackie defending him? Didn't she get hurt because of him? Wasn't she fighting so hard to get back but he wouldn't let her? 

 

“So that-- so that makes it all okay?” She doesn't understand. Her head is pounding. She's so tired.

 

Feeling her face fall, Jackie looks at Lottie, her eyes wide and her mouth tugged down at the edges. “It’s– It’s not. Okay. It’s not okay, but we-we can’t be like… We can’t be monsters. We can’t kill him. I think he’s sorry.”

 

“He is sorry,” Nat says. “And he brought food, supplies. That’s got to count for something, right, guys?”

 

Lottie stands up so suddenly it makes her dizzy. The two people she'd come to rely on most were suddenly making her so confused. So upset. Why? She doesn't understand. 

 

“He tried to kill us!” She says loudly, her voice wavering. She feels like crying again. She doesn't want him dead, right? She doesn't think she wants that but she can't get the words out. “All of us. And he--” she turns on her heels, looks at Jackie desperately-- “he took you. He-- he kept you. You said he-he wasn't going to let you come back. Why-- why are you--” she can't get the words out. Her head hurts.

 

It's not enough, is it? A voice whispers to her. Love never saved anyone.

 

Jackie follows after Lottie so fast that she doesn’t even realize she’s in pain. “Lottie, I–” She can’t stand for long before she’s heavily sitting back down. She can’t even fucking stand. This isn’t fair. “He changed his mind. I– That means something, right? And he’s the only other person out here.”

 

“I think he wants to help up,” Nat says, looking between Lottie and Jackie warily. “Nobody has to interact with him, but we can think about this as… retribution.”

 

“So, just to make it perfectly clear, you’ve already decided to keep him around, right, Natalie?” Taissa asks. “So you don’t really want our thoughts at all. Nice.”

 

Nat crosses her arms, her fingers digging into her skin. “He’s the only other person out here, like Jackie said. We all need each other. There’s strength in numbers.”

“Until we’re all just hungry mouths to feed,” Gen says. “Then we’re all monsters that eat people.”

 

“It’s not gonna come to that again. Not while I’m in charge and we still have plenty of food,” Nat tells them.

 

“We were doing just fine without him,” Melissa points out, “maybe even better.” 

 

Lottie looks at Natalie as if begging her to understand her pain. She wants someone to understand her pain when she can't. She can't figure out how to say it. Her head is spinning. It hurts so much. 

 

“So he just does one good deed and is suddenly forgiven?” Lottie tries again, shaking her head. Her voice grows low, dark. “He doesn't belong here. He's not one of us.”

 

“We’re not just forgiving him,” Nat says. “He’s gotta help out. And he can help out. He survived on his own for months. He knows things about surviving out here that the rest of us still don’t know.”

 

Jackie tries to stand again, reaching out for Lottie. “Lott, it’s not… It’ll be okay. He’s not gonna do anything again.”

 

Lottie kind of can’t believe what she’s hearing, seeing. She looks at Tai, at Mari, at Van. They agree, don’t they? Why isn’t anyone else saying anything? She turns back to Jackie, blinking, her face drawn in confusion and hurt. She doesn’t understand.

 

“No,” she says, brows scrunching, “no, it-it’s not. It’s--” This feeling deep inside of her, like always. It’s something telling her that nothing is going to be okay if he stays. “He took you and you-- you’re-- why are you defending him?” She takes a step back from Jackie. The others all turn to look at them but Lottie has already forgotten they’re there.

 

Panic starts to set in as Lottie starts to walk away, and Jackie hobbles forward a step. “Please, I-- I just don’t wanna be mad at him. I don’t. And he brought me back. I couldn’t have made it back without him. I tried. I tried.” She doesn’t know what’s happening with this conversation, doesn't know what she needs to do to make Lottie not leave her.

 

“Why-- why not?” Lottie feels like her entire world is breaking down. Things had finally started to feel okay, she’d just been sitting with Jackie and she hadn’t been the happiest, but she’d been content and she’d been okay because Jackie was there and she wasn’t going to leave her again. 

 

But she doesn’t understand why Jackie isn’t mad. “He wouldn’t have had to if he never took you in first place!” Doesn’t she get that? Doesn’t she understand how painful it had been for Lottie? Does she not care about that? About what had happened to her?

 

Because if Jackie stays mad at everyone that hurt her out here, she wouldn’t have anyone left, not even the girl that she loves most in the whole world. “People do awful things when they’re scared or hungry or hurt,” Jackie says quietly. “He changed his mind. He brought me back. That– that has to count for something.”

 

“And what if he hadn’t?” Lottie snaps, just the idea, the thought, making her breath catch and her muscles grow tense. 

 

“Lottie,” Jackie pleads. She doesn’t want to do this. She wants to go back to where they were curled up asleep in each other’s arms. She wants to go back to feeling okay again. Now, she feels like she fucked up, and she doesn’t know how to fix it.

 

Jackie won’t answer the question and that’s all that Lottie needs to know. She looks at Jackie and it hurts. It’s not supposed to hurt. Why does it hurt? Why does it feel wrong? She shakes her head again, backs up further. “I can’t--” she can’t, she just can’t. “I can’t-- be here.” 

 

If they all want to forgive him, then fine, Lottie doesn’t care. But Jackie? It hurts. She can’t be here right now. Lottie turns around and walks away. She promised she wouldn’t but now she can’t stop.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, Lottie, wait!” Jackie’s already trying to walk after Lottie when her leg gives out, and she stumbles. Nat lurches towards her, grabbing one side. 

 

“Stop it. You’re not supposed to be walking.”

 

Jackie actually doesn’t give a shit. She struggles against Nat, but it doesn’t matter. Of course it doesn’t matter. Hands hold onto her, and it feels like she’s being pulled down again. All that’s missing is the snow, Shauna’s voice in her ear. But Shauna’s quiet. She doesn’t need to say anything. Lottie’s actions speak louder than words. 

 

“Just give her some time to cool off,” Nat says. “It’ll be okay.”

 

But Jackie has to wonder if that’s true.

 

“Well,” comes Van’s voice from by the fire, “that went swimmingly.”

Notes:

Man these kids really can't keep their hands off each other, can they? Is this what the kids call wlw on mlm violence? What do you think Lottie's gonna do now? Will Coach survive? Thanks so much again for all the comments and interaction, we love hearing from y'all and reading all ur comments! Hit us up if you want and stay tuned next week for the thrilling continuation of dumb and dumber <3

Notes:

This started out as a joke, you know. And then it got quite serious.

The title for this fic is from "The Uses of Sorrow" by Mary Oliver.

Thanks for reading, and we hope you guys will stick with as we explore the aftermath with these two very sad, very lonely girls. Please check out our other works, as we both have one shots and other longfics here on ao3! You can also find us on tumblr as lottiezilla (envyzilla) and jackietaylorsversion (SouthbySoutheast). Again, thanks for reading!