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It’s 2002, four years after the Yellowjackets were rescued. Before parting ways, they made a pact: a solemn vow to keep the harrowing truth of their eighteen months stranded in the wilderness a secret, believing it was best for their fractured lives to remain separate as they each navigated the wreckage of their past.
Inside her gleaming new suburban home, Shauna stands in front of a mirror, the light catching the soft sheen of her surroundings. The house, recently purchased with her husband Jeff, is a testament to the settlement money she received from the airline. Jeff, busy expanding his furniture business, is currently out of state, and while part of her feels the absence, she finds herself oddly relieved. Alone time, she realizes, is a comfort she has come to treasure more than his company.
Glancing at her reflection, Shauna critiques the image staring back at her. She wears a purple dress, beautiful on the surface but perhaps a touch prudish for someone of her age. She runs her fingers along the hem, which stubbornly folds under itself. The fabric is soft and well-tailored, but somehow it hugs her curves in a way that feels too constrictive. She mentally notes to increase the temperature on the flatiron next time she does laundry; the thought alone makes her stomach churn. This mundane reality feels alien—this isn’t the life she envisioned for herself.
Once outside, the cacophony of chirping birds and the unmistakable sound of children playing in the distance greets her. Shauna struggles to unlock her car door, her fingers trembling slightly. She pauses, brushing a few strands of hair from her face, when suddenly she hears a raspy voice behind her.
“Hello, Shauna.”
She freezes. It takes her a moment to process who it is. Standing beside her freshly planted gardenias is Natalie Scatorccio, a ghost from her past she hasn’t seen in years. Though she looks the same in some ways, time has etched a quiet sharpness into her features. Her dark brown hair cascades long and wild, a contrast to the bleached blonde style of their teenage years.
“Natalie” Shauna speaks louder than intended, as if saying the name out loud would make it real. Her heart races, a mix of surprise and apprehension flooding her senses.
“I need to talk to you.” Natalie says taking a couple of steps closer. There’s an urgency in her voice that sends a chill down Shauna’s spine.
“I really don’t think…” Shauna begins to say but before she finds herself lost in the depth of her eyes. Hauntingly beautiful, they reveal the weight of their shared past. Natalie has never fit the mold of traditional femininity, but there’s something striking about her presence that was just so captivating.
To her that was something to be definitely jealous of because she had always felt so terribly ordinary.
In truth, until Jackie’s death, Shauna had never noticed just how pretty some of her teammates were. Her best friend occupied all her thoughts when she was alive, Jackie didn’t leave space for anyone else in Shauna’s mind, or her heart.
“It won’t take much.” Natalie says.
Shauna lets out a resigned sigh, battling her instincts to turn her away. But something compels her not to.
“Fine.” She ends up saying,
She slowly walks back toward her house, her heart racing. Even though her back is turned, she glances toward the window, still looking at Nat through the reflection, making sure she hadn’t pulled out a knife to stab her in the back.
Is Natalie here for revenge? It’s a concern that gnaws at her—a ghost of her own making from that dark winter of 1997, and the pain it inflicted.
Shauna leads the way inside, the familiar warmth of her home contrasting sharply with the chill of the past still lingering right behind her. As she steps over boxes still littered across the floor, embarrassment pricks at her. There’s something silly about feeling self-conscious in front of Natalie, the one person who would never judge anyone’s living situation.
Nat doesn’t seem to be noticing the chaos. Instead, her eyes are locked onto Shauna, as if she’s searching for something in her. The weight of their shared history presses heavily in the space between them.
“Why are you dressed like you’re going to Sunday church? Are you giving Catholicism another go?”
Her tone is playful, dripping with the snarkiness they used to share. Yet, Shauna hears the deeper, lower sound of Natalie’s voice—a reminder of the time that has passed. Shauna fights a smile and then rolls her eyes.
“It was a gift from Jackie’s parents, actually. It’s a thing we do for her birthday… Anyway, I doubt you came all the way here to insult my fashion sense.”
Natalie shifts, an awkwardness settling in. She seems to be searching for the right words, suddenly fidgety.
“No… shit, you’re right. I’ve begun badly.”
As the silence stretches, Shauna can feel tension coiling between them. There’s a part of her that finds Natalie’s nervousness amusing.
“I didn’t think after all these years I still had the capacity of making you nervous, Nat.” She chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. With a playful nudge, she adds
“Come on, spit it out. I don’t bite.”
Natalie smirks.
“We both know you fucking do, actually.”
Shauna felt a chill of excitement running down her spine. All those hidden memories she kept locked in the back of her mind, never to be shared with anyone that hadn’t been stranded with her in the wilderness, suddenly flushing her from top to bottom. Knowing that the person in front of her knew exactly what kind of fucked up depravities she had been capable of… it made her feel alive.
“Okay, well these days I’m not biting anyone, so you’re good.”
The air feels heavy with anticipation as Natalie takes a moment to collect her thoughts. Shauna leans against the counter of her kitchen island , trying to appear relaxed while her heart races.
“I came here because, as you probably know, I was recently released from this rehabilitation facility and—”
Before Natalie can continue, Shauna interrupts her
“I actually didn’t know that. Don’t know much about what all of you are up to these days.”
She turns to the fridge, pouring Natalie a glass of water, the sound of running liquid filling the silence. The practical gesture is meant to bridge the awkward gap forming between them.
“I thought Tai would have told you that. She visited me a couple of times there.”
Natalie has a frown of confusion on her face
“We’re not close like that anymore. Haven’t seen her since the wedding, and even then we barely talked.” Shauna explains, a tad evasive. At the mention of the wedding, Natalie’s expression shifts. A flicker of guilt flashes across her face.
“Yeah, about that… I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I was—”
“On crack?”
She says with her eyebrow raised playfully, cutting through the heavy atmosphere. It’s the kind of humor that skirts danger, something they used to lean on for shared relief. Shauna knows she probably shouldn’t joke about addiction, but with Natalie, it feels right.
“Fuck you. Who do you think you’re talking to? With all that settlement money, I was doing the nicest cocaine, actually.”
Natalie laughs and so does Shauna. A genuine laugh that she feels in her stomach, she hadn’t laughed like that in a really long time.
As the laughter fades, the gravity of the moment returns. Natalie’s facade of humor begins to crack; the hidden purpose of her visit resurfaces in her eyes.
“I’m working on my sobriety. I just got my first month chip at my recovery meetings. They encouraged us to work through the twelve steps.”
Shauna nods slowly, her mind racing with thoughts of what that might entail.
“Isn’t that twelve steps thing about apologizing to those you’ve hurt? Do you really look back at what happened out there and feel like you owe ME an apology? Because if that’s the case, your memory must be really fucked up.”
The words hang in the air. Shauna’s heart beats heavily against her ribcage, and for a moment, Natalie seems struck, battling a cocktail of emotions playing across her face. Their shared history—the good and the bad—invades the silence, amplifying the weight of their unresolved past.
“No, I’m not here to apologize. I’m here because I’m trying to heal. There are parts of my soul that are just so messed up, and the only way I can move on with my life is if I accept everything that happened out there—understanding that a lot of it wasn’t in my control, then just letting it go. I’ve been thinking a lot about what ties me the most to what we called the Wilderness, and it’s regret. There are so many things we could have done differently.”
Shauna listens to Natalie’s words carefully as annoyance bubbles beneath the surface—a protective wall rising higher as she processes her words. She crosses her arms in self comfort.
“Oh. So you want ME to apologize to you, huh? You came all the way over here to drag me right back into your fucking pit of guilt so that I can beg for your forgiveness, and you can be absolved of everything that happened?”
Her tone is sharp, laced with forced firmness. She discovers that the cruelty that once rolled off her tongue so easily during the last quarter of their time in the wilderness was now hard to maintain.
“No, Shauna, I don’t need you to apologize. I came here to tell you that I don’t hate you. Frankly, I never did, even when you were at your worst. When you made me butcher our coach… When you ordered the group to stay instead of following that guy to rescue— I could never bring myself to hate you. I realize how weak and pathetic it might sound to you.”
Natalie takes a sip from the glass of water in front of her before resuming what Shauna realises is a speech she had probably mentally rehearsed quite a bit before showing up on her front lawn.
“Anyways, what I wanted to tell you is that I’m really sorry about how you had to butcher Javi right after you lost your son because no one else could bring themselves to do it. I’m sorry that the girls turned your child into a totem of their fucked-up cult, and I just let them. I was their leader. I could have stopped them, but I didn’t. I’m sorry about what happened to you, Shauna, and I forgive you. I forgive you for everything that came after that.”
The weight of Natalie’s words is almost suffocating. Shauna’s mask of indifference crumbles as she listens, her heart pounding fiercely against her ribs. While a flicker of warmth spreads within her at Natalie’s compassion, it vanishes almost instantly. She swallows hard, grappling with a storm of conflicting emotions. There’s something beautiful, almost poetic in Natalie’s confession, but it triggers a primal response within Shauna—a refusal to let go.
“I can’t accept this.” She says quietly, almost in a whisper.
The words feel heavy, burdensome as they hang in the air. The idea of absolution feels like a betrayal—not just to herself, but to everything they endured together. The acknowledgment of Natalie’s forgiveness feels like an insidious attempt to peel away at the guilt she clings to like a lifeline.
“I hate myself every day. I’ve lived this punishment, and I deserve it—I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You know what I’ve done. I don’t want to forget or forgive. I need to carry this because it’s my penance.”
She can’t accept this. No after everything she had done she couldn’t just let Natalie let her go so easily, she didn’t deserve it. She deserved to be hated by her just as much as she hated herself. That was her punishment. that was how she was able to wake up everyday and live her life instead of drinking herself stupid like Natalie, pretending that she was still a teenager in 1995 like Van or ending up in a psychiatric facility like Lottie.
Natalie watches her, eyes filled with a mix of understanding and sorrow.
“You don’t have to carry it alone anymore, though. You can share that burden with me. I’m trying to heal, and so can you. You don’t have to walk this path alone.”
“No, I need this, Nat. I’ve punished myself so I can wake up each day without drowning in the memories. You think it’s easy? Pretending to be someone I’m not, just to keep moving forward?”
“It’s not about pretending anymore… It’s about facing what happened and finding peace with it. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself; it’s okay to feel. It’s okay to let go.”
The tension simmers as their eyes lock, each woman fighting her own internal battles. For a moment, time stands still—filled with wrath, healing, unresolved pain, and the possible glimmers of hope. The walls around Shauna’s heart seem impenetrable, yet the echoes of Natalie’s compassion linger.
“Look, Nat, I’m... happy for you. Really. I’m glad you’re trying to move on, but this whole twelve-step thing? It’s just not for me. If you want to offer your forgiveness, then okay, but I can’t— I won’t— accept it. I don’t think I ever will.”
There’s a hardness to her voice, a protective layer forming again as she retreats into herself. She sees the disappointment on Natalie’s face morphing into annoyance and then anger.
“Are you serious right now?”
Natalie’s tone had shifted from concerned to confrontational, a storm brewing within her eyes that Shauna hadn’t expected. She doesn’t know what to reply.
“Why is it that you can’t even grant me this one little thing? Just accepting my forgiveness? You’re so caught up in your head that you can’t see that moving forward is actually a choice! You act as if you’re the only one fighting these demons.”
Her heart races; a wild mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through her veins. She senses the anger simmer beneath Natalie’s calm demeanor, that beneath her previous words of understanding, there was still so much rage.
“Maybe I just don’t want to be part of this fairy tale you’re painting, Nat! I can’t just jump to some happy ending because you decided it was time to put down the pain.”
Natalie steps closer.
“Then stop being so selfish! Everything is always about you! In that last argument with Jackie, you called us all secondary characters in the movie of her life, but frankly you’re not acting any different from her. You’re stuck in this cycle of self-hate, and it’s really fucking exhausting, Shauna!”
The truth in Natalie’s words stings like acid. Underneath the anger, she feels a rush of something else that is frightful and exciting. A part of her shivers with anticipation at the thought of pushing the boundaries further.
“Maybe I like to be selfish! Maybe I just love being the fucking villain. And you know what? After everything I’ve gone through, I wish I could have been even worse!”
“Oh. My. God. Maybe you really can’t be helped. After years you’re still holding onto your pain like a security blanket! You’re making excuses, Shauna, and it’s just sad. You’re so afraid of letting go of it all, of confronting your feelings, and now even when you have a chance to ease some of that weight, you’re just throwing it all away!”
The raw intensity of Natalie’s confrontation ignites a conflicted rush within Shauna. In this moment, she realizes how much she craves the visceral energy that accompanies their clashes. The idea that Natalie might be angry enough to confront her, to challenge her, becomes almost intoxicating.
“It makes you want to kill me doesn’t it? Come on Nat, don’t you have even just a tiny bit of that hunter instinct left in you?”
Natalie’s eyes widen, seeing the shift in Shauna's demeanor, her excitement at the possibility that she could hurt her.
“Is that really what you want?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I need that. Maybe I want to feel the edges of that abyss where you have walked every time you drunk yourself unconscious or snorted cocaine. Maybe death frightens me in the way that makes me feel alive. Tell me, Natalie, would it make you feel better to lash out? To get angry with me? I think I would like that.”
In that charged exchange, the discussion has painted them into a corner, leaving them questioning whether to let it spill over or retreat into silence. Shauna’s breath quickens as Natalie’s gaze sharpens.
The air crackles with a tense, electric energy as Shauna strides over to the kitchen island, her heart racing with adrenaline. The blade gleams as she pulls the knife from its holder, the sound echoing in the stillness. It rekindles a primal memory of control and power, one she had buried after she had left the wilderness. In her grip, it feels both familiar and intoxicating.
Natalie’s eyes widen in shock, a mix of anger and dread blooming as she takes a step backward. Her heart races, and the vibrant pulse of fear mingles with an intoxicating thrill. Shauna’s demeanor feels dangerously seductive, and she swallows hard at the potential chaos about to unfold.
“What the fuck, Shauna? Put that knife down. You’re scaring me.”
Shauna’s lips curve into a tantalizing smile, leaning closer, her eyes dark and inviting. There’s an intoxicating urgency in her expression, something that draws Natalie in even as she knows she should step away.
“Or what? It’s cute how you think you can demand anything from me, Nat. ” Shauna says in a mocking tone
Natalie’s breath catches, her heart pounding against her ribcage. While the fear flickers within her, there's another sensation that coils in her stomach — a chaotic rush of yearning. Shauna’s challenge is an invitation that both tempts and terrifies her.
“This was a mistake. You’re so far gone.”
Shauna’s gaze softens momentarily, and she glances at the knife, then back at Natalie. With a deliberate motion, she places the knife down on the counter, sliding it slowly towards Natalie, her eyes never leaving hers, like a wolf tempting its prey.
“Take it, Natalie. This is what you really need. Not forgiveness, but revenge. Come on, I’m giving you the upper hand here. You said you want to heal? Hunt me then. This was always how it was supposed to be between us.”
As she speaks, there’s a realization that flickers between them, a heat igniting in the space around their bodies. Shauna watches as Natalie’s breath quickens, overwhelmed by the offer that drips with unspoken desire. Natalie edges closer, conflicting feelings swirling in her mind, but there’s something dangerously inviting about the way Shauna’s eyes had darkened with intensity.
“One. Two.” The tension in the air is thick as Shauna begins to count playfully, evoking memories of their time in the wilderness when counting marked the start of their intense hunts.
“Shauna.”
“Three.”
“Stop counting dammit!’ Natalie says, grabbing the knife from the counter. A red mist descends in her mind because she’s so angry at the girl in front of her.
Shauna begins to back away from the kitchen counter with an enticing smile.
“Come on!”
Suddenly, Shauna bolts down the hallway, laughter escaping her
lips—a wild, free sound that ignites Natalie’s competitive spark.
“What the fuck…” Natalie mutters under her breath, caught off guard, but then instinctively sprints after her, adrenaline surging. She feels the absurdity of the moment wash over her, the exhilaration of the chase propels her forward as she races after Shauna.
“Natalie… maybe you should catch me if you can!”
As they hurtle through the house, Shauna leads Natalie deeper and deeper, her laughter echoing amidst the shadows. The chase ignites a fire within both of them, blurring the lines between fear and excitement.
They finally burst into Shauna’s room, the energy crackling between them. Shauna leans against the wall, breathless and exhilarated. Her eyes shine with a wildness that makes Natalie’s heart race.
Natalie closes the distance, pinning Shauna against the wall with a commanding intensity that sends a thrill through both of them.
“Got you.” She says, her voice is low and she’s out of breath.
Shauna’s body trembles in anticipation. With a sense of purpose, Natalie lifts the hand that is holding the knife and presses the blade gently against Shauna’s ribs.
“Do it…” Shauna says. As the knife brushes against her skin, it sends a rush of adrenaline coursing through her; the moment feels more alive than anything she’s experienced in a really long time .
Natalie lifts the blade up across her skin,accidentally brushing it against Shauna’s breast, causing her to gasp with a mix of surprise and pleasure. Shauna’s reaction is electric, igniting a flame of desire that begins to burn between them.
“God… Natalie…” Shauna moans softly in her ear.
Natalie’s heart races as she finds herself lost in the heat of the moment, driven by instinct. She lifts the hem of Shauna's dress, revealing more of her firm thighs.
With a swift, bold slash of the knife, Natalie cuts through Shauna's panties, the fabric falling away and exposing her fully. Shauna gasps, her big brown eyes sharing right back into Natalie’s burning with animalistic need.
Her legs tremble as Natalie shifts her thigh between them, pressing hard.
Shauna gasps, hips twitching against the pressure. “Nat” she breathes before
Natalie growls low, she’s frustrated, feel and darkly turned on. “You’re so fucked in the head.”
“So are you,” Shauna whispers. “That’s why this works.”
And then Natalie kisses her — brutal, hungry, more like a bite than anything gentle — and the knife drops to the carpet with a dull thud. She doesn’t even bother undressing her, just shoves the dress up to her waist and sinks to her knees like she’s starving. Maybe she is.
Shauna gasps again, grabbing for the doorframe, the wall, Natalie’s hair — anything to anchor her as Natalie licks up the inside of her thigh, slow and lazy just to fuck with her, before finally giving in.
“Jesus—” Shauna hisses, head thudding against the wall.
Natalie looks up, smirking, mouth wet and cruel. “Nope. Just me.”
Shauna’s still panting, legs shaking when Natalie rises from between her thighs, lips slick and smug. She grabs Shauna by the waist and pulls her in like she can’t get enough — and when their mouths crash together, Shauna groans at the taste of herself on Natalie’s tongue. It’s filthy but strangely intimate.
Her hips roll instinctively, searching for more friction. Natalie obliges, angling her thigh just right, and Shauna rides it shamelessly, leaving a wet trail on Natalie’s thigh. Because Nat is wearing a skirt and no tights she can feel it all: the slickness is a testament of just how much she wants her as she grinds down harder, faster.
Shauna moans right into her mouth, her hand slipping up under Natalie’s Fiona Apple t-shirt, fingers kneading at her breast through her worn-out bra. Natalie lets out this guttural sound, somewhere between frustration and absolute need, and grabs at Shauna’s hips to steady her — or maybe just to keep herself from losing it entirely.
But then she pulls back, breath ragged. “Wait,” she mutters, stepping out of the contact like it physically hurts to stop. She reaches for the hem of her shirt, suddenly too hot in her own skin. “I need to get this off—”
Shauna grabs her wrists gently. “Let me.”
Natalie hesitates — it’s vulnerable, more than she meant to be — but she nods. Shauna peels the shirt over her head slowly, eyes drinking her in like she’s never seen anything so worth savoring. She unhooks her bra and undoes the skirt next, letting it fall to the floor, then steps back to take her in fully.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Shauna says, voice softer now, but no less intense.
Natalie huffs a breath, eyes darting away. “You don’t have to say that.”
Shauna tilts her chin back. “I want to. Now help me out” she says, lifting her hands up. Natalie slips her dress up and throws it on the floor.
Shauna, now fully undressed as well, takes her hand, walks her back toward the bed like she’s leading her into something sacred. And maybe she is. Natalie sinks down onto the mattress, unsure suddenly, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.
Shauna notices. “Hey,” she whispers, kneeling on the bed between her legs. “You okay?”
Natalie swallows. “I’ve just… I’ve never— Not like this. Not with a girl.”
Shauna smiles, wicked but gentle. “Then I’ll go slow.”
She trails her fingers up the inside of Natalie’s thighs, grazing the damp fabric of her panties. “Spread your legs for me, Nat.”
Natalie breathes out shakily and does as she’s told — but Shauna pauses, palms smoothing over her hips.
“Lift up for me,” she says softly, voice dropping into something dark and honey-slick. Natalie lifts her hips, and Shauna hooks her fingers in the waistband of her panties, dragging them down slow, deliberate. The fabric clings for a second, soaked through, before it slides free down her thighs, off her ankles, discarded to the floor.
Shauna just looks for a moment — like she’s committing this to memory, like Natalie’s something rare and secret and hers alone.
Then she presses a kiss to her thigh, then another, working her way up like a worship. “You’re already shaking. That’s so fucking hot.”
And then she gets to work — teasing, tasting, driving Natalie absolutely out of her mind — and Natalie’s hands are in her hair, her back arching, soft curses spilling from her mouth between gasps.
Shauna’s tongue finds Natalie’s clit and she sucks, hard and focused, tongue flicking just enough to make Natalie gasp — then groan, hips jerking up. Natalie’s fingers twist in her hair, tugging sharp, desperate — but instead of pulling back, Shauna moans into her, like the pain only fuels her more.
“Fuck—Shauna—” Natalie chokes out, her thighs starting to tremble.
Shauna grips her hips tight, holding her in place, relentless with her mouth until Natalie finally breaks, the orgasm ripping through her with a raw, gasping cry. Her whole body tenses, back arched, head thrown back.
Shauna doesn’t stop until Natalie’s legs are shaking.
Natalie’s whole body trembles through the aftershocks, her fingers still tangled in Shauna’s hair. Shauna pulls back slowly, mouth slick, chin wet, eyes burning with hunger. She doesn’t say a word — just crawls up Natalie’s body, straddling her hips with a quiet, dominant heat.
Their eyes lock. Shauna leans in, her lips parted, and Natalie sees it — the glisten of spit and herself held on Shauna’s tongue. Her breath catches, chest heaving.
Shauna doesn’t speak. She just tilts her head slightly, gaze demanding, lips hovering millimeters from Natalie’s.
Natalie gets it.
She opens her mouth.
Shauna spits into it — slow, messy, claiming — and Natalie swallows it down without looking away, a flicker of something vulnerable and unhinged sparking between them.
It’s the eye contact that undoes her. That need.
And then Natalie’s back in control.
She grabs Shauna by the shoulders and flips her, forcing her onto her back. “Not done,” she mutters, voice rough and still shaking with the echo of her own orgasm.
Shauna just grins and spreads her legs wide in answer.
Natalie climbs over her, eyes dark and wild, and sinks two fingers deep without ceremony. Shauna gasps, hips jolting up, already slick and clenching.
Their bodies are now pressed together, breasts sliding, nipples hard and aching from the contact. Natalie leans down, lips and teeth on Shauna’s neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark as her fingers thrust relentlessly.
Shauna can’t speak — just moans Natalie’s name over and over, desperate and broken, like a prayer.
“Yeah” Natalie breathes against her skin. “Say it. You love this, don’t you?”
Shauna nods, eyes glassy, breath stuttering.
And Natalie doesn’t stop until she feels Shauna pulse around her finger: she’s right there — right on the edge, her whole body coiled tight, every moan falling from her lips louder and messier. Her nails claw at the sheets, at Natalie’s back, and she gasps, “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”
But Natalie pulls her fingers out.
Just like that.
Shauna lets out a strangled noise, hips jerking in frustration, her entire body twitching from the loss.
“Wha—” she pants, dazed. “What the fuck—?”
Natalie doesn’t answer. She sits back on her knees between Shauna’s spread thighs, eyes gleaming, fingers glistening. Slowly, she traces Shauna’s slick folds with maddening precision, feather-light. No pressure. No mercy. Just tease.
Shauna’s thighs tremble. Her hands fist the sheets. “Natalie,” she growls.
And then Natalie smirks and lightly slaps her clit — not enough to hurt, just enough to sting. Enough to make Shauna cry out, hips bucking off the bed, her body completely undone by that sharp little jolt.
“You were gonna come?” Natalie asks, feigning sweetness, fingers ghosting over her again, still not giving her what she needs. “Poor baby.”
Shauna glares at her, panting. “This is fucked up.”
Natalie leans in, voice low, breath hot against her ear. “Then beg.”
Shauna freezes. Her pride flares, instinctively rebellious, her jaw tight.
But Natalie reaches down, grabs a handful of her hair, and tugs — just hard enough to tilt her head back, to expose her throat. Not painful. Commanding.
Shauna arches, back bowing, a strangled moan tearing from her lips. The fight in her crumbles.
“Please,” she whispers, almost too soft to hear.
Natalie raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t catch that.”
Shauna locks eyes with her, cheeks flushed, voice raw. “Please, Nat. Please make me come. I need it. I want you. I need you.”
Natalie kisses her neck, then pulls back just enough to murmur, “Good girl.”
And then she fucks her again — fingers deep, relentless, rhythm brutal and perfect. Shauna comes fast and hard, her whole body snapping tight, cries echoing through the room as she shudders apart in Natalie’s arms.
But this time, when Natalie leans in, her kiss is soft. Tender. Lips pressed gently to Shauna’s, no tongue, no heat — just care.
She pulls back, brushing a damp strand of hair from Shauna’s face. “Was that too much?”
Shauna shakes her head, a lazy, blissed-out smile spreading across her face. “No. I liked it. All of it.”
They’re both still catching their breath, bodies slick with sweat, limbs tangled in the sheets. Eventually, they shift, curling onto their sides, facing each other in the fading warmth of it all.
Shauna drapes a leg over Natalie’s hip, her fingers drifting slowly down her back, caressing bare skin with uncharacteristic gentleness. Natalie doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t pull away. She just lets her eyes close, forehead resting against Shauna’s. And for once, there’s no wilderness. No past. No blood between them.
They lie there in silence, skin to skin, sweat cooling, the air heavy with something unsaid. Natalie’s fingertips still trace slow, absent patterns on Shauna’s back. For a long while, it’s just breathing. The kind that fills a quiet room in the aftermath of something seismic.
Then, slowly, tears begin to slip down Shauna’s cheeks. She doesn’t make a sound — just lies there, facing Natalie, lashes fluttering as the tears slide into her hairline.
Natalie notices. “Hey,” she says softly, brushing a thumb along her cheek, catching the wetness. “What’s going on?”
Shauna blinks a few times, like she’s trying to get herself back into control. But the dam’s cracked. “I know… I know you didn’t come here looking for an apology,” she whispers, voice trembling. “But you have to know — I am sorry. For what happened out there. For everything. Especially to you.”
Natalie’s throat works. Her fingers still on Shauna’s face. She doesn’t interrupt.
Shauna sniffs, staring at her like she needs her to believe it. “You carried so much guilt. But you— you shouldn’t. You held onto your humanity out there. Right until the end. You didn’t lose yourself. Not like I did.”
Natalie’s jaw clenches. “Shauna…”
“I dethroned you.. i made the call that started the hunt. And I told myself it was for survival. But the truth is… it felt good. I liked the power. I was angry. I was sick with grief. And I became something I still can’t look at in the mirror.” Her voice breaks. “You’re supposed to hate me. That’s the point. That’s the penance.”
Natalie shakes her head, her own eyes glassy now. “I could never hate you.”
Shauna lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. “Why not?”
Natalie’s voice is steady, low. “Because even when you were at your worst, I knew… I knew why. You were grieving Jackie. And the baby. You were sick, Shauna. Sick in a way none of us understood back then.”
Shauna stares at the ceiling for a second before she finally says it — like peeling back the last layer of armor.
“After we got rescued… they had me see doctors. I was treated for almost a year. Postpartum psychosis.”
Her eyes flick to Natalie’s, vulnerable and wide.
“But I wasn’t committed like Lottie because I was still ‘functioning.’ Still lying. Still pretending. No one knows. Not even Jeff.”
Natalie leans in close, her forehead touching Shauna’s, her voice barely a whisper.
“There you go. You were sick. Please stop hating yourself. So much of what happened… it was out of your control.”
Shauna closes her eyes, more tears sliding free. Natalie kisses them away one by one, slow and reverent, her lips soft against damp skin.
“You’re a good person,” Natalie murmurs. “I’ve always known that.”
Shauna exhales shakily, eyes fluttering open to meet hers.
“Jeff’s away all week,” she says after a pause. “Business trip.”
Natalie raises a brow. “That right?”
Shauna nods, brushing her fingers lazily down Natalie’s spine. “So… you staying?”
Natalie smirks. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then Shauna’s lips curl into something sly. “So… round two?”
Natalie groans, flopping back onto the pillow. “God, I’d love to. But honestly? I’m starving.”
Shauna grins. “Well, I could offer up a snack…” She lifts her arm and presents it to Natalie, wrist-first. “Take a bite. Real Yellowjackets throwback.”
Natalie snorts. “You’re so fucked up.” She goes to shove Shauna’s arm away, but instead dips her head and nibbles at her neck instead, making Shauna squeal and squirm under her.
They both burst into laughter, tangled up in sheets and each other, bruised but alive.
And for once — even just for a night — the weight of what they did out there feels a little lighter