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They had kissed before they went to the base of the panopticon. Basira had already left to cause a distraction and Martin had long since run after Jon. It had been a long time since they had been alone together. It was too awkward to kiss in front of… who was she kidding, Jon and Martin were right, it was totally a cult. The last time they had been properly alone was before the apocalypse, lying together on Georgie’s bed the morning it had happened. Melanie’s hair had fallen across her face, blowing softly as she breathed. Georgie’s arms were wrapped around Melanie as the two lay tangled in each other. When Georgie had tried to pull away to get up, Melanie had hitched her leg over her girlfriend’s hip and pressed her heel to the back of Georgie’s thigh to pull her back. Georgie had huffed out a laugh and laid back down. The Admiral, who had been a heavy weight rested on one of Melanie’s feet, moved to curl up between the two, his fur brushing against Melanie’s nose. Georgie had silenced her alarm that morning so that they could lie there together for longer. It was… there hadn’t been many truly good moments in Melanie’s life since the hospital but that was one of them. She should have known something would happen. Ever since she had found out about… all of this, the good things hadn’t really lasted.
When the apocalypse had happened, Melanie had been alone but Georgie had found her.
Even now, Georgie stayed by her side, her anchor when she felt as if she may drown. Melanie wasn’t religious but she had prayed to everything she knew, including the Slaughter and End. She begged Terminus to spare Jon, Martin and Basira but most importantly, Georgie. She even pleaded with the Ceaseless Watcher to, if they were to fail, turn its gaze away from them so that they could die alone with each other.
Melanie clung to Georgie’s arm during the explosions. It was the only thing she could do. George's arm pressed protectively across Melanie’s still tender eyes to stop any debris, the other hand on Melanie’s arm. It was loud so Melanie couldn't tell how far they were from the Institute so she resigned herself to tightening her fingers into the soft skin of Georgie’s arm in fear that if she loosened her grip, even for a moment, she would lose Georgie and be alone. She didn’t want to be alone. Her knuckles were almost certainly white with the effort and Georgie’s arm would likely bloom with fingerprint shaped bruises after this. After all of this was over, Melanie vowed to kiss them better. She wouldn’t be able to tell when they had finally faded away so she supposed she would have to simply keep doing it forever. Georgie held her tighter and pressed a kiss to the back of Melanie’s hair.
They went on for so long. Melanie wondered if they would end. Did the Watcher fend off the End? Was there an escape or would they be trapped here? At least they would be together.
When the explosions finally ended, the silence was so loud. Melanie’s ears had begun to ring. A high pitched grating ringing that made her entire body tense. She had the urge to hold her arms tightly to her body, hands clamped over her ears. But she couldn’t let go of Georgie. The sounds of her gasping breaths echoed through her head. Did they stand too close? They had to have stood too close. She didn’t feel any rubble. Did Georgie feel rubble slicing into her skin? Did the dust cling to her clothes and hair? Did the wreckage hurt her? Melanie turned in Georgie’s arms to face her. It wouldn’t change much but she much preferred for Georgie to be able to see her. Georgie’s hand stayed on her arm.
“Mel?” Georgie’s voice was quiet and Melanie could feel her faint breath against her face. The hand on Melanie’s arm tightened its grip, bitten short nails digging into Melanie’s flesh. She didn’t bite her nails often. A year (if she could even still say that) ago she had told Melanie that she wanted to stop. With Melanie’s eyes and the whole… apocalypse thing stopping hadn’t gone too well. Her nails were sharp and Melanie almost winced.
“Yeah?”
Something was wrong. A sinking feeling in Melanie’s stomach began to stir. Before all of this, before the slaughter, before the institute, before the hospital, the anxious pit used to rear its head a lot more. She would feel it before breaking into a new ‘haunted’ (but probably just dangerous and abandoned) building. She would feel it before someone asked if she actually cared about ghost hunting or if she just wanted to feel cool. She felt it as she stood on the steps of the Cambridge Military Hospital.
Something was so very wrong.
It was only because she had nothing to see that Melanie noticed when Georgie’s weight sagged against her, her hold on Melanie going limp. Melanie was barely able to catch her before Georgie crashed to the floor. Her knees thumped against the sharp ground but Melanie barely noticed the sting, too focused on Georgie in her arms.
“Georgie?” She shrieked. Melanie’s voice was panicked. When Georgie didn't respond, Melanie called her name again.
Melanie couldn’t see her, didn’t know if she was hurt. Did some debris hit her? Was she too busy protecting Melanie from it to protect herself?
“Georgie, answer me!”
Melanie moved her head as if she could look around. If she could still see, her eyes would have been darting across everything around her just desperately looking for something that could help. Maybe they would be glued to Georgie’s face. They would probably be glued to her face, Melanie hadn’t done that nearly enough when she could still see. She was starting to lose it in the memories of her vision. One day the memory of her was fuzzier than normal. Sometimes, Melanie couldn’t even recall the shade of brown that Georgie’s eyes were. Sometimes, she wondered if they were even brown. Down in the tunnels, she used to ask people what Georgie looked like that day. No matter what though, Melanie knew that Georgie was beautiful. She moved one of her shaking hands to cup the side of Georgie’s face.
“Come on Georgie.”
Answer.
Please just answer.
She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t- she couldn’t- Georgie! Melanie was alone. Georgie wasn’t responding. She couldn’t lose her. Not Georgie, she couldn’t lose Georgie.
“Basira! Basira!” She screamed. Melanie didn’t know how far away Basira was, didn’t even know if she could hear her, but there was nothing else she could do. “Basira, please! She was crying now, choking out each word through the sobs that wracked her body and threatened to silence her.
“Georgie.” Tears dripped down her face and they hurt . She hadn’t had reason to cry much after what she did to her eyes, she was mostly just numb, so she was unprepared for the sting. It felt like carving at her eyes once more and only made the tears worse. She wanted to claw at her face in a desperate attempt to tear away the salty tear tracks but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t let go of Georgie.
And Melanie could do nothing more than sit there, the ground digging into her flesh, as she clutched her lover's cold body close to her. She couldn’t let go of Georgie.
She didn't know how long it was until she heard someone else. Didn't know if time even mattered. It must. The world was supposed to be saved by now. She didn't know if it ever could be now that Georgie was… she didn’t want to say gone . She couldn’t be gone . It was Georgie! Beautiful, fearless Georgie. She had to be okay…
Maybe the plan failed and this was Melanie’s punishment.
It was moments like these that she almost missed the music. The steady drumming of her heart and the bagpipes creeping closer until they were screaming in her ears. At least then she knew what to do. Now, when it was quiet, she just felt numb. She used to be angry but at least that was something . She wanted to scream and throw things and cry until she threw up but she just felt so detached . She could feel nothing but the crushing grief and guilt wearing at her. She wished she were angry.
There were footsteps.
Melanie didn’t care.
Georgie was pulled away from her and Melanie scrabbled to keep her in her arms. Something warm was deposited into Melanie’s arms and she buried her face in the Admiral’s fur. Somehow, she knew who had brought him to her.
“Where were you?” Venom was laced through Melanie’s voice.
Basira spoke. “Melanie… I’m sorry.”
“You have to help her.” Her voice broke and the tears began to pool in her eyes once more. “Basira, you have to.”
“Melanie.” There was the faintest tremble to Basira’s voice, one that was barely noticeable but Melanie knew it was there. Basira was upset. Melanie didn’t want to know why.
Melanie already knew why.
The plan had worked.
The fears were gone.
Terminus had betrayed her.
Georgie was gone.
“Basira, please.”
“She’s gone Melanie.”
No . She couldn’t be.
“Basira, stop lying.”
Arms wrapped around Melanie and she buried her face deeper in the Admiral’s fur. Her shoulders began to shake with tears and Basira’s arms tightened around her.
“Stop lying.” Melanie barely managed to choke out the words through sobs. She felt ill.
Basira’s head rested on top of Melanie’s head and she slumped against her.
Georgie was gone and Melanie was still there. She could do nothing but sit there and cradle the Admiral and allow Basira to hold her. In those moments, she was glad that the final vision in her head of Georgie was happy. The image in Melanie’s head was of her smiling. She had kissed her as she left the apartment that day. Despite Melanie’s last memory being hearing her pain, when she last saw Georgie she was happy. She was happy. Melanie had to let her be buried but she would always see her happy.
When Georgie Barker was buried, her arms were marked with fingerprint shaped bruises.
When Georgie Barker was buried, she kept the mark of Melanie King on her.
When Georgie Barker was buried, so was a part of Melanie King’s broken heart.
When Georgie Barker was buried, Melanie King wished she were as well.
But she couldn’t. So she stayed. She stayed for the both of them. If Georgie couldn’t live, then Melanie would live for her.