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The time between Mari's death and Nat's return feels like an eternity. Shauna's angry. Pissed, even. After a few days with no sign of Natalie, she makes Melissa kill Hannah, and when Misty sucks the marrow from her bones she wonders for the first time if maybe she won't ever come back.
"She's dead," Shauna snarls, eyes flashing as she surveys the gathered girls, Lottie silent at her side. "If she didn't freeze to death out there, we kill her the minute she gets back."
"Maybe she left without us," Travis mutters from his spot in the corner.
Misty doesn't think Natalie would do that. She's too inclined to martyr herself to abandon anyone. But, still…
Lottie shakes her head. "She'll be back." She speaks with so much confidence that, for a brief moment, Misty feels the same desire to believe that she had that first winter. But faith has never come easy to her.
Tensions are high in camp, not helped by the steadily growing collection of mounted heads and the thin layer of snow on the floor. The weather is still warm enough, but they all remember the worst of it. Misty doesn't know if their huts could withstand a blizzard.
Even if it isn't winter proper, it's still cold. She shudders even under the makeshift blankets and her filthy sweaters. She doesn't have anyone to cuddle by the fire with this year either. If Nat really is gone and rescue isn't coming, she thinks she might freeze to death all alone in her hut.
If she did, how long would it take someone to notice? She'd like to think that Van would. But they've been avoiding each other for weeks now as to not arouse suspicion. And everyone else is scrambling and terrified.
Maybe they wouldn't find her until she starts to decompose come spring.
"You can't cry," she whispers to herself, wiping her nose on one of the blankets. "Not yet. She won't leave you." Even when the tears stop, though, she can't fall asleep. Her thoughts are racing. She's completely powerless and she hates it, lost and unmoored and anxious, living a nightmare. It becomes too much. She tugs at her hair, gnaws on her fingers, digs her nails into her arms. The pain is real and physical. She can control it. It's grounding and if she tries hard enough she can pretend her touch is someone else's and that means there's someone here who cares, who thinks enough about her to want to get close enough to break her.
Eventually she tires herself out and stops to curl up alone in her half-hearted approximation of a bed. At least she's warmer now. She closes her eyes and tries to finally drift off.
Only to be woken by the sound of feet crunching in snow.
Could it be..? She pokes her head out of the hut, holding her breath.
And there she is. Standing on the edge of camp, dark hair stark against the snow with dawn's first light shining behind her like a halo. She came back.
Misty runs to her side. "Natalie! Did it work? Are you okay?" She can't help but grin, caught up in possibility.
"Yeah," she whispers. "We're going home." Her eyes are bright for the first time in months. She doesn't even look mad at Misty anymore. Instead, she smiles back like they're partners in crime, and it makes Misty want to jump for joy.
"How long until they get here?"
"Tomorrow. If all goes according to plan."
Tomorrow! Just one more day and they'll be back safe and bonded for life, touring the country in a media blitz, and maybe they'll be asked to star in the documentary that's probably already started pre-production—
"What?"
Misty turns around to see Shauna standing shell-shocked in the center of the camp. For a moment, they just stare at each other, Misty shrinking close to Nat and Nat's face startlingly blank and Shauna terrified and drowning in her furs and scarves.
Then Shauna stalks closer, and her expression hardens into something furious and terrifying in the way only Shauna can be. Her eyes dart around the camp, then farther back into the woods. After a brief hesitation, she says, "We're not leaving. Misty, go wake everyone up. We need to move camp."
Misty stares up at her, feeling eerily calm. She wanted to stay too once. But this isn't sustainable. They need to move on. "No," she says, with complete conviction.
Nat's hand settles on her shoulder. "Shauna, it's over."
"No! Fuck you, Natalie! You don't get it! This is all we have." The sound of raised voices draws the others from their huts. "Do you really think anyone will give a single fuck about you two back home? The freak and the burnout? You're going to regret this for the rest of your lives."
Tai walks up and tries to comfort Shauna with a touch to her arm. "Hey, cool it, let's talk about this—"
Shauna shrugs her off. "Tai, you agree with me. Do you really think anyone will respect you after this?"
"We can't survive another winter. If we don't leave, all of us will die. Be reasonable."
Evidently, it's the wrong thing to say. If anything, Shauna seems to hear "be reasonable" and understand "fight like a cornered animal." She shoves Misty to the ground and gets up in Nat's face, growling, "You're dead, Scatorccio."
"They're coming, whether you like it or not. Your opinion doesn't matter, Shauna. We're leaving."
Shauna socks her straight in the jaw. Her head snaps to the side with an audible crack. Misty can't help but gasp even as Natalie remains quiet and stoic.
No one moves. No one speaks. No one even breathes, standing on a precipice, lingering in the stillness as they stare each other down.
Something in Nat seems to shatter, and for a moment Misty thinks she might hit back, but she only closes her eyes in solemn resignation. So with nobody stepping in to stop her, Shauna hits her again. And again, and again, and again, until they fall to the ground and the sounds of fists meeting face are accompanied by the squelching of blood.
They can all hear Shauna's ragged breaths, familiar as the bright snow beneath them. Nat is silent as the grave. And Misty, strangely, finds herself thinking, no, we can't do this again.
She stands up, acting on pure instinct.
Everyone is staring at her, but it doesn't matter. Natalie is the best of all of them. If anyone deserves to make it home, it's her.
Misty flings herself at Shauna and clings to her back. She's not an athlete or a fighter the way the other girls are, but she can be scrappy, especially now with so much on the line. She tugs at Shauna's hair, scratches at her face and eyes like a territorial bird, anything to distract her from Natalie.
"What the fuck— Misty?" Shauna bucks like a wild horse but Misty holds on tight. She's good at that. Grabbing. No matter how hard she digs her nails into Misty's skin to pry her off, she keeps ripping and tearing with single-minded fury.
"Leave her alone," Misty hisses. It makes her feel strong. The part of her brain that never quite left Wiskayok suddenly understands what it means to be part of a team, to be devoted enough to dedicate your entire body to a cause. The part of her that never resided anywhere at all just focuses on the feeling of warm sticky flesh coming apart under her hands.
This is her purpose now, she thinks as her feet push into Shauna's ribcage. Protecting Natalie. She'll be her sword and shield, killing for her when she doesn't have the strength to do it herself.
Shauna stumbles back, spitting curses and trying to claw Misty's hands away. It creates enough of an opening for Tai to dart in and drag Nat to safety. Misty manages to get a few more good scratches in before Lottie's strong arms grab her and haul her off of Shauna. She struggles the entire time, flailing and scratching wildly, recklessly, trying to take as much of Shauna's skin with her as possible. Her elbow connects with what she thinks is Lottie's mouth, but she hardly reacts, just keeps using that defender's training to muscle Misty as far from Shauna as possible.
Lottie drags her backwards, creating a sort of triangle: Tai and Nat on one end, Misty and Lottie on the other, and Shauna alone at a point between them. Misty keeps thrashing, unsure which vertex she'd head to if she were set free. It doesn't matter, because Lottie pins her arms to her sides and holds her in place.
They stand in that peculiar balance for a minute, and then another, and then something breaks and Shauna slumps to the ground. She curls up on the cold hard snow and sobs, wails, childlike and raw and gutteral. Her fist hits the ground, over and over again, a desperate attempt to retain control even with no body left to bruise her fists against.
Lottie drops Misty and runs to Shauna's side. Tai follows once Nat pushes her away. The balance has shifted; all the weight now in one corner. Misty stares at the blood welling up on Shauna's face and feels a distant, vacant sense of accomplishment.
Strange. She always thought there was supposed to be something tender and romantic about this kind of violence. But all her satisfaction is directed inward. Right now, Shauna is less than human to her. Just an obstacle. A threat to be eliminated.
Her gaze shifts to the other point, where Natalie sits alone, knees pulled up to her chest. Her eye is already turning a dark purple, and her lip is split and bleeding.
Absentmindedly, Misty runs her tongue along her own lip, feeling the scar Natalie had left there, and finally decides to approach her. Their triangle is now a line.
When she gets close enough, Nat glances up at her, then quickly looks away, dark hair falling in her face. She appears to be holding back tears.
"You didn't have to do that," she finally says, voice gruff, still avoiding eye contact.
"I wasn't going to let her hurt you. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you ever again."
Natalie turns her head and blinks slowly at her, dark eyes narrowed with the anger of an injured animal caught in a trap. Misty isn't good at reading faces, but she thinks she gets the message: I don't forgive you.
But that's okay. Even while she lashes out, Misty will reach out and cut her free. The pain will be more than worth it.
Misty beams at her and holds out her hands, all scratched up from Shauna's defensive play. "She got me pretty good, look! I mean, not as bad as you, but still. You should see the other guy."
Nat lets out a snort. It doesn't sound entirely happy, a little closer to being laughed at than laughing with, but Misty will take what she can get. "You're crazy. Like a… rabid squirrel, or something."
"I've never been in a fight before. It was fun." It made her feel like she was wearing Nat's skin. "But I should probably get my cuts cleaned up. I know we're going home tomorrow, but still, not worth getting an infection. Want me to take care of your face too?"
"No."
"It won't take long. I'll be gentle. Come on, you remember what happened to Lottie last year."
"No," she repeats.
Misty frowns. "Why not?"
Nat shrugs and looks around the clearing. There are a lot of people around. Maybe she's just feeling vulnerable.
"Can you at least come with me?" Misty begs. "I'm worried Shauna might try to jump me if I'm alone." It's the perfect strategy — play to Nat's sense of responsibility and commitment to protecting the weak, while at the same time getting her alone so she'll be easier to convince.
"Fine." Natalie stands and looks at her expectantly. Misty skips to her hut with complete conviction that she will follow.
Once they're inside, Misty goes to the waterskin she keeps full of previously boiled water and pours some on her cuts to rinse them out. Then she takes some of their makeshift bandages, but her hands are shaking too bad from adrenaline to actually wrap them. She growls in frustration. There's nothing worse than knowing how to do something, but lacking the physical ability. It makes her feel so pathetic and useless and meaningless, and then she starts to cry, because this is her one thing and if she can't even take care of herself—
Nat taps her on the shoulder, making Misty jump. "Here," she says quietly, taking the bandages from her hands. "Let me." She takes Misty's hand in her own and kneels in front of her.
Her bruised and bleeding face goes blank with single-minded focus. Quickly but gently, she wraps Misty's knuckles, inspecting each finger for any previously unseen damage. There's a poetic symmetry to the role reversal. Her hands are warm and hardened from months of hard labor; they are just as soothing as they've always been.
Heat rushes to Misty's face. The fear of freezing to death feels like a distant memory; she's burning alive, can't even remember how being cold felt. It takes every ounce of self-control not to whimper. Now she's shaking for a different reason, because this must be the most beautiful thing she's ever seen and it's hers and hers alone. No, even better, it's theirs.
The moment ends too soon. Nat's fingers are steady and efficient, and before long she's pulling away to stand again. "Good?" she asks, hesitant.
Misty swallows. The question doesn't quite reach her brain, her own words catch in her throat. "Now you," she finally says, because right now she wants nothing more than to touch Nat's face before it scabs up.
Natalie doesn't say anything. But she doesn't complain either when Misty reaches up to cup her cheek. She brushes Nat's hair to the side, alternates between tracing faded freckles and wiping blood from her face. The liquid is warm and sticky against her thumb, proof that Nat's heart is still pumping. Thanks to Misty.
She doesn't put her now bloody fingers in her mouth and suck them clean. Because that would be weird. But she does think about it while she reaches for a rag with her clean hand and dips it in antiseptic, because no one can hear her fantasies, so it's fair game. Duh.
Nat hisses a little when she dabs at the wounds. That's a good sign. She's still grounded enough to react to pain. Misty had been worried, watching her submit entirely to Shauna.
"Why didn't you fight back?" Misty asks quietly. "Not that I'm judging you. It's your call, obviously. And you'll be fine as long as I'm here. But you know you don't have to let her push you around like that, right?"
No response. Nat just shuts her eyes and lets Misty slowly clean her wounds, leaning into her touch. "What are you going to do?" Natalie whispers. "When you get back?"
Misty perks up, happy to have someone express genuine interest in her life. "Undergrad, then med school, probably. Same plan as before. Gosh, I hope they don't make us redo senior year. Or rescind our college admissions. Can you imagine?" She giggles a little, even though it isn't funny.
"You're really going to just... move on? Like none of this ever happened? Like you didn't…" She trails off, looking at Misty lost and confused.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" She tilts her head quizzically. "I mean, we did what we had to. And it's not like anyone else will ever know. We can just leave the bad stuff here and take the good back with us."
Nat laughs, sad and broken. "God. You really are a psycho."
Well, that's rude. Misty frowns. "It's only practical. Why, what are you going to do?"
Nat's cuts are probably clean enough at this point. But if she knows if she stops, Nat will run away, and she's not ready for this conversation to end. So she continues wiping her face even after most of the blood is gone.
"Fuck. I don't know. After everything… Do I even deserve to make that choice?"
Misty's hand stills. What? "Don't say that," she hisses. "Of course you deserve it. You deserve to be happy more than anyone else here."
Natalie shakes her head. "Shauna's right. We're never going to go back to being normal. This place, What we've done here? It's a part of us now."
Misty drops her hands to rest on Nat's shoulders. "What are you saying? After everything you did to get us back? It's too late to give up, Natalie. You're fine. We're going to be fine." They have to be. Because if Nat of all people loses hope, what's left for the rest of them?
"It just doesn't feel real. Like… Even after all the time thinking about going home, I never really considered being home. What if we don't get to? What if we're always like this, and there's nothing else? Maybe we all died in that plane crash, and now we're just… something worse."
No. No, absolutely not. Misty's face twitches; she wants to hit something, but she won't risk hurting Nat, so she just digs her fingers in to hold her in place. "It doesn't matter. You did what you had to. Whatever you are now, that's you. And you don't get to die. I won't let you. You're going back with me and everything will go back to normal." Maybe not normal. Hopefully better.
Nat looks up at her, hazel eyes full of anguish. "Why should I listen to you?" she mutters. "You're worse than all of us."
"And you still saved me." She presses her forehead to Nat's. Her skin is warm and comforting like nothing else. "So if I get to live? So do you."
Something complicated flashes across Nat's face. This close, Misty can see every little flinch and tick. She catalogues it all. Natalie makes a sharp little noise — an inhale, a gasp, she can't tell — and it feels like she's breathing in a part of Misty, their souls entangling.
Yet again, Misty's attention turns to Nat's injured lips. They're bruised and swollen, stained with blood. Shauna must have hit her pretty hard. There's a cut that matches Misty's own perfectly.
"Stop smiling like that," Natalie mumbles.
Misty only grins wider. "Can I sit next to you on the plane tomorrow?"
"Fine. Sure. Fuck."
"Okay." Her smile turns softer as she leans back, giving Nat some space. Her face looks… Well, not exactly clean, but as close as they can manage out here. "Get some rest. It's important for the healing process."
Nat shuffles towards the exit of the tent, but before leaving, she turns around. After a moment of consideration, she sighs. "Thanks, Misty."
And then she's gone.
Misty stares down at her neatly bandaged hands. Maybe Nat will hold them tomorrow. If she does, Misty will take the old rags and frame them when she gets home, so that every morning when she wakes up she can look at them and be reminded of her purpose.