Despite this group being her current chance at survival, Leila found it difficult to completely trust them. With low supplies, and low ammunition she found herself at odds with being there. Having medicine, having a fair amount of supplies always gave her an upper-hand. It made groups likely to take her in, and if it came to it bartering kept people from killing her if she was alone. As of now, she had no idea why they were helping her, or what she possibly offered them. She tried her usual tactics of observing from the outskirts, but once the cold had settled into the tips of her toes, she abandoned the idea. Ignoring her ankle’s twinge of protest, Leila carefully approached the flames, taking a seat next to the other girl. Within a few minutes, it seemed as though they were both aware of each other. Stretching her hands towards the fire, she quickly glanced in the other survivors direction, “It’s like we’re living in an Ice Age.”
It was weird to have someone finally attempt to have a normal conversation with her. Ever since they had set up their stupid camp, Lyra had been living in utter seclusion. She only spoke when people initiated it, and it was mostly with Elijah in regards of what they were going to do next. Perhaps by isolating herself from others, she was inhibiting herself from acting on her instincts and setting out to find her friends like she wanted to. But after being caught out by Jakob and seeing just how much he needed her, she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Hated herself for getting her priorities all fucked up but still couldn’t manage to leave him, no matter how easy it would have been for her to do it. Blinking, Lyra addressed her companion by tilting her head slightly towards her. It wasn’t a gesture to show that she was willing to engage in the conversation but simply to show that she was listening. Shifting uneasily, Lyra fought against her deeply-ingrained awkwardness before nodding at her companion. “Y-Yeah,” She clenched her teeth to stop them from clattering, urging her words to come out smooth and steady. “I feel like my limbs’ll fall off. Fucking uncomfortable as hell.”
The cold had set in fast, catching them all off guard as some struggled to make shelter in the trees while others chose to sit out. It was a fair mixture of survivors and ones waiting to still be rescued while Hunter did what was asked of him without complaint. The last time he’d spoken, it ended badly, and the scars were still visible on his conscience as he kept to himself until the cold was too much for himself. He dropped down to the fire, cautious of the other sitting there while the rest of the group spent time on plans and others looked as if they were ready to test the distance between them and anywhere else. He’d thought about it, he’d be a liar if he hadn’t, but he waited still for someone else to show and make themselves known that they were still alive. Hope was a dangerous drug, one that he was sitting on the edge with as he glanced beside him before he stared at the fire.
In the midst of all the chaos going on inside her and around her, Lyra almost didn’t sense it when someone suddenly sat beside her. Old instincts never died, though, and she sensed it, nonetheless. An involuntary tension in her bones that was purely out of her control, prompted by the unexpected appearance of a man. Stealing a glance at him, Lyra recognized him from somewhere. She knew fuck-all about who he was but she had definitely seen him around Fall City. Yet despite that, she still felt relieved that he was alive. A fucking stranger that she had never spoken a word to, and she was glad for his survival, regardless. That, more than anything, proved to her just how much being in Fall City had changed her. It damn well scared her but she couldn’t really do anything about it now of all times, when circumstances were unpredictable and the line between life and death grew so thin and so fragile. A burdened sigh escaped her numb lips unbidden and Lyra shrunk in on herself even more, looking away from the man as she lay her head atop her knees and focused on the faint heat her body was drawing from the fire, along with the surprisingly not so bad company of the silent man beside her.
Terra had forgotten how difficult it was to get back in the game after an injury. She had forgotten the amounts of muscles she had to work through to lift her leg, to kick properly, to keep her stance. She had forgotten the pain. Her body was weaker than it had been in a long time. Sore tenants kept her up at night, a feeling as if she would burst. This morning, a mild morning, a taste of spring, she could no longer rest. Having found a private bit of abandoned building, Terra kicked and wound in empty space. She had nothing to work with. The air offered little resistance, but it would have to do. For now, anyway.
In a fit of anger she had punched the wall, once or twice in the last hour, cracked the skin open. Terra did not mind. As she continued to work, it was a distraction from what the real problem was: her right thigh burned, a consistent pain in her leg that she was afraid to work through. She had ripped stitches before. The nurses had warned her, ‘not again’, but Terra had not been listening. She tried again, a for her standards pathetic kick, before she let her frustration out with a breath. She did not know who she was most angry with: herself, for allowing someone to shoot her, or that someone, for not aiming properly when he had the chance.
Lyra had no idea what she was doing in the street. All she knew was that she wanted to be alone. Isolated, for once. Her thoughts were so jumbled and her emotions so scrambled that she felt like all the pieces that formed who she was were just scattered haphazardly on the ground, waiting for her to pick them up and start fucking getting a hold of herself. Everything that took place during and after the battle with Xavier left her lost. She no longer had a clue who she was, what her strengths were, or what her goal even was anymore. Those were the things that kept her going. Now that she had lost sight of them, she felt like she was slowly but surely going out of her mind.
A sudden crash broke her out of her trance and her head sharply turned towards the source of the sound. A back-alley, it seemed. Alert, Lyra cautiously started approaching the alley, eyes taking in the mess of crumbled bricks that littered the ground underneath a woman’s feet. She looked like a mess and her knuckles were bleeding. Stepping closer, Lyra’s eyes suddenly widened in shock as she recognized the woman as Terra. Shit. What was she doing? Her feet moved forward out of their own volition before Lyra forced herself to remain where she stood. Terra clearly wasn’t in a good mood. It would be foolish to approach her so earnestly when she was so pissed off. She had just took down a fucking wall. Who knew what she would do to an actual person? “Terra,” Lyra started hesitantly. “You okay?”
Panic was fresh in his system along with shock, emotions that Jakob barely knew how to handle let alone on his own. It wasn’t long before he noticed that Lyra was absent and that only made it worse, jumping to his feet and causing Jewel to bark at him in an effort to distract him from what he was doing which was frantically looking for Lyra. Her bag was gone and Jakob was mentally kicking himself for not noticing before, he had calmed down at least, enough to rest himself for a little while before he stirred with the familiar feels of panic. Something is wrong. Sure enough something was wrong, within the camp there was a missing person and it was the only person in this group that Jake genuinely cared about, Lyra.
So he jolted to his feet and blindly jogged in the direction he imagined she would go, back to look for whoever or whatever it was that had possessed her to leave the facade of safety of the camp. A small whimper left his lips as Jewel trotted along side him and he finally caught sight of the brunette, not even slowing his pace before he reached her– stopping far too close as he took hold of her sleeve and tugged at her to pull her frame closer. Pleading blue eyes found her gaze and begged her to stay before he even decided to speak.
“W-Where are you g-going? You can’t leave, please d-don’t leave. D-D-Don’t leave me again.” It never had registered to Jakob that Lyra had abandoned him before, she had her reasons and although Jake hadn’t understood what had gone on in her head the man had accepted what she had done, but they were supposed to do this together, they were going to do things like before. They were a team and if she left him now Jakob wasn’t sure if he could keep his sanity for very much longer. Another noise left his lips before he moved in closer and let his long arms wrap around Lyra’s shoulders, pulling her in to hug but more than that to keep her near him. She was a comfort, instant relief of the tension fell from his chest and he lightly nuzzled against her head, perhaps far too affectionate but Jakob didn’t know that, all he knew was that he couldn’t let Lyra leave him, if not for him then for her own safety. “It’s t-t-too d-dangerous out th-there for you, please, just stay… W-We can go t-tomorrow, you and me, remember? W-We’re supposed t-to b-be a t-team. You can’t leave me– You can’t, Lyra. I can’t… You know I can’t… You—You know I can’t d-do t-this on my own, I can’t… I can’t… I can’t survive out here b-by myself. I b-barely d-did it b-before. Please.”
He was asking much of her, so much, give up whatever it was she was going after to keep him alive. But god damnit Jakob didn’t want to die, he didn’t want one of those things to tear him a part as Jewel barked and attacked only to get torn to shreds herself all for helping her owner. Jakob didn’t want to get stuck in the darkness again, the nights were spent sobbing until he was too exhausted to keep sleep at bay only to be woken from fear and panic in his nightmares. The man really couldn’t go on alone again, he just couldn’t do it.
She had set up her mind. She was adamant on searching for her friends, without once considering the effect it would have on her fellow group members or what they would think. All Lyra could think about was the urgency to find the people she cared about before they traveled too far and all chances of following their trails faded. She had been in the right mindset. Detached, practical, and determined. She didn’t waste time contemplating the possible consequences of her somewhat reckless decision but instead, focused on what mattered most which was being prepared for what she would find out there. She would be on her own, just like before. The prospect of it shouldn’t have provided her with any anxiety as she had survived for years on her own. Prior to the apocalypse and during it. But she had been experiencing stability and security, however fleeting she believed it would be, for so long that she no longer remembered what it was like to be on her own. To survive on her own, lead on her own. She dreaded the way the momentary sense of security that Fall City provided had caused her to unknowingly abandon some of the vital instincts that she used to possess.
All disguises of practicality flew out of her mind, however, when Jake’s voice registered to her ears. He was stuttering; something that he had not done during their reunion and she couldn’t help but observe that above all else. It somehow solidified his current state of panic and she scrunched her eyes shut in pain as he begged her not to leave. Again. Don’t leave me again. That was what he said. It hit her so hard, knowing that deep down, he never forgot what she did to him back when they had been together. Lyra never forgot, either. Before Jake had arrived at Fall City, she rarely allowed herself to think about it or pain herself by recalling everything they used to have and everything she threw away but she never forgot. She hated herself and cursed her selfishness which had ultimately been the reason why she left him in the first place.
It had scared her. The way they had become so close after only a couple of weeks of traveling together. She had grown to trust him and seek comfort from him. She even went as far as to open up to him about her fears and regrets and all the struggles she suffered since the day her mom had died. It scared her that after everything, she would lose him, just like she lost everything before. She didn’t wait for it to happen, and in a pathetic attempt to self-preserve and guarantee that she wouldn’t suffer from their bond, she severed it. Waited until both him and Jewel fell asleep one night before she packed up her things and left. It was as simple as that. She did make sure to leave half of the supplies they had formerly gathered together so that he would be able to survive. But whenever she recalled that, it only made her hate herself even more. It was like a pathetic attempt at an apology for leaving him. And only god knew what he had struggled through after that. All on his own, in the middle of nowhere, without even a weapon to guarantee his safety. Taking a deep breath that she didn’t know she had been holding, Lyra couldn’t turn around and face him. She just couldn’t. When it came to emotionalism, she was as much a coward as she had always been. She doubted it would ever chance.
Trembling arms were suddenly wrapped around her shoulders and all she did was gasp in surprise before her face scrunched up in a rare display of conflict and misery. He kept rambling, panicked, as his arms squeezed impossibly harder around her. He was holding on. Something she could never urge herself to do. Taking a deep breath, she knew she had to say something, to face him, to stand up to the crap she gets herself into for once, for crying out loud. “Jake, listen...” She trailed off, at a loss for words but she knew she had to say something. “I...I wish I can take you with me. But it’s too dangerous for all three of us to be out there, okay? I can’t allow myself to put you in danger like that,” Finally sucking up the courage, she turned around, and her eyes stung and her chest heaved as she took in his rumbled state of utter panic and dishevelment. Hesitantly, she reached forward and grabbed his forearms; the same way she did during their reunion a few days earlier. “I...I have to do this, okay? I have to find my friends before I lost their trails and...and...I wish I can take you with me,” She shrugged sadly, not looking into his eyes. “But I can’t do that and bear the responsibility if anything happened to you or Jewel. I...I can’t. You have to understand. But...I’ll be back, y’know? I’ll only make sure my friends are safe then I’ll take them and I’ll come back.”
Wrapping her arms around herself in an effort to warm up against the relentless cold, Lyra blinked snow out of her eyelashes as she sat near the camp fire that they had set up, huddling as close as she could without risking her clothes catching on fire. Placing her feet beneath her and hunching her body towards the fire, she isolated herself from her fellow survivors as she pondered how long it was going to take before she either froze or starved to death. She had only managed to grab water on her way out of Fall City and only few of their group had managed to gather food. Things weren’t looking good but she allowed the sensation of her freezing nose and fingertips to distract her from the hopeless thoughts as she stared wearily into the fire. She remained that way, teeth clattering and body shivering, for a few minutes until she sensed someone sitting beside her.
He wasn’t so broken, not around Lyra, even if she was a mess and was calling him out on his recklessness just as much as he would hers, hypocrites the both of them. It was how they got along, how they completed one another in a way. Where she was reckless he would scold and visa versa. Still, her reaction and methods of showing she cared was not foreign to him at this point. Although they had only known each other for a short time, it might as well of been years with how comfortable and protective Dexter was with Lyra. She pushed at him, not aggressive, he knew she didn’t mean to hurt him, well, maybe she did for his getting under her skin but Dex would be lying if he said she was under his as well. Really, he would have been doing the same thing, getting upset at her for going out there– for putting herself in danger. But the truth was that Dexter didn’t have the energy to be upset with Lyra, he was just so overwhelmingly happy that she was not harmed. He had almost lost Terra and was continuously losing his sister, the man could not live if he had at all lost Lyra. So when he smiled or even laughed it was not out of humor, it was out of relief for the emotional brunette before him.
The shove really didn’t do anything to him, not much but a sway and steadying of his position. Dexter understood, really he did, but he would let her get her emotions out, let her yell at him because he knew why she did it. So he waited and listened, brows knitting together softly and his eyes cast down on her with the soft glow of complete adoration. Because that was what it was really, more than adoration, Dexter loved Lyra and if he were to admit it to anyone, it would be her. With a deep breath the man finally moved forward again, gently pushing her hair out of her face where she had done so unsuccessfully, large hands cupping her face in order to wipe at her cheeks gently; regardless to if they were wet or not. “Hey, you wanna know why I am standing here right now? Because I couldn’t leave you– I’ll never leave you Lyra.” His tone was soft and solid, no stutter in the amount of emotion that he was letting out, it was all true and Dexter genuinely meant it. “I am about as fucking reckless as you and you know that.” It was too soon after his first altercation with death, the month or more that he had spent in the clinic to get better. The large scar and still healing muscles on his side forever to be evidence of his near graze with death. It was obviously far too soon for Lyra to even think or imagine losing him let alone see him in the condition he was currently in.
“I’m OKAY, I’m fine, I’m not hurt and I’m not gonna be.” Lies, there was no way he could truly keep from getting hurt. She had said it, he was a sacrificial person and he would lay down his life if he absolutely had to and without second thought. But the thing about that was, now he had reasons to be selfish, to stay around and fight for life instead of just throwing himself in the way of harm to save others. Granted if it were the handful of people he had already expressed, Dexter would not hesitate. “You’re here, I’m here, we’ve survived this and we’re going to survive it again because we have each other. Do you understand?” His eyes searched hers before Dexter sighed softly and swayed forward to press a soft kiss to Lyra’s forehead. “You’re very very important to me Lyra, I really hope you know that.” In other words he loved her, something he was very sure of in this moment. Something he would have to express at some point but perhaps more at a later date. “You’re not going to lose me and I know I have no right or way to keep that promise, but god damnit, you’re what I live for.” It was true, something he wouldn’t admit to anyone else. Since Stephanie, his real sister was gone and she had been the reason for his life, Lyra had firmly planted herself into that spot in Dexter’s heart. Of course, he still loved his sister, the fact that he was still fighting for her was evidence enough of that but she wasn’t really his sister– at least, it seemed she didn’t want to be. But Lyra was here and she was letting him care, maybe even a part of her wanted him to and Dexter wouldn’t stop. Lyra was a part of him now and if this place was burning to the ground, she would be the first he pulled from the flames.
Warmth suddenly engulfed her cheeks and surrounded her body. Large hands encompassing her weary face and holding her together when she was so close to falling apart completely. She almost forgot why she was mad at Dexter but she forced herself to remember. To hold on the her anger which was about the only reasonable aspect regarding this entire fucked up situation. Reason. Logic. Anger. That was what she needed to hold on to. Not whatever silly sensations the older man provoked in her like he was made to do it. She slowly raised a hand in order to reject his sentiment and shove his hands away but froze as soon as her ears registered the words Dexter had spoken. Such dangerous words. Tired chocolate-brown eyes widened considerably and she couldn’t help but stare at him in absolute horror. How? How did he know that behind all her anger and indignation lay an intense fear of losing him. A fear so intense, it took a physical form inside her, mutating and growing into another monster that she created inside her own head. How did he know? Her lips parted but no words, or air, came out. Nothing. She just stood there and for the first time since the whole world went to shit, let the real side of her, the cowering, frightened side, rise to the surface.
She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and a faint tremble taking over her fingertips but she couldn’t do anything about either. Her statue-like state was broken however once Dexter started speaking. Speaking lies that shouldn’t have meant anything. Liar, liar, liar. She raised her hands to his torso and expected to find herself shoving him across the fucking room with her anger but instead, she barely nudged him, a small, weak sound escaping her lips in the process. Her eyes were stinging and her throat was swollen so bad that she could barely breathe but she managed to pull through just enough to whisper, “Stop,” She shook her head, fighting so hard against the onslaught of emotions she could feel rising inside her. Always fighting. “Stop lying,” She whispered again, a bit louder, this time. “Stop lying!” She shouted, not loud enough to disentangle the grip he had on her head but enough to definitely get her point across that she knew he was lying to her. We’ve survived this and we’re going to survive it again because we have each other. Do you understand? No, she did not fucking understand but she understood she couldn’t believe him. Lies. All of it. It was only a matter of time before he left her. Left her broken and withered and so fucking tired without even realizing it. He provided her with the greatest strength but also with the greatest weakness. A weakness that was going to destroy her one day. All it would take is for Dexter to be gone. And it was only a matter of time before it happened. She knew it. She knew it.
You’re what I live for. His words drove through her heart like a corded knife, tearing through the last of her strength and she could no longer fight. Shaking her head weakly, a stubborn tear escaped one of her eyes before another followed and another and another until she lost count. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe him so bad but she couldn’t bring herself to do because she knew he was lying. She knew that she wasn’t meant to have something as precious as what she had with Dexter. With him, it was like she got back everything that had once been taken and stolen from her. It was such an unexpected blessing that she knew it would only be stupid of her to believe it would last. She may cherish it like the selfish person she was but deep down, she knew she didn’t deserve it. “It’s—it’s only a—a matter of time.” She hiccuped, raising her hands to cover her tear-stained face in shame of her weakness, unwilling to clarify what she meant by her statement. God, but she was so tired of fighting. It felt like she was carrying a rock on her shoulder that just got heavier and heavier each day. It was barely noticeable when she was around Dexter but it was still there, its presence so tangible that she could almost feel it. How could Dexter understand all that? How could she make him see that he meant the whole fucking world to her and that it would all come crumbling down if she lost him? How was she supposed to explain it all when she could barely catch her breath and hold back her tears? How was she supposed to recover from the fall she had just taken? How?
The instant Lyra reacted, Lori knew that something was wrong. At first, she thought that the brunette had been injured, and her eyes flickered across her face – wide and worry-filled – working her gaze down her body. But she seemed fine. Nothing stray of a casual bruise or scratch any soldier endured during warfare. Much like Lori. She assumed, then, that her scars weren’t physical, but mental. For her, the won wasn’t won or over– it was raging inside her head. It was a staggering realisation, for Lori, too, had felt the same before she was alerted of Lyra’s safety, before she was in her presence. Like she was about to be eaten alive by the demons that plagued her insides, the overwhelming insecurities that had docked inside her mind once again. Weak, weak, weak. Worthless, worthless, worthless.
“Yeah, I get ‘ya.” Lori agreed with a slight nod. This was over, but there were so many more struggles for them to overcome. The clickers, finding a cure. Maybe another clan of survivors, like Xavier, wanting to take away their safe haven. Lori could understand Lyra’s hesitance. “But we should– we should be celebratin’. We should be happy about this.” Her head was tilted, gaze fixed on Lyra’s face – so stoic, emotions masked. Lori knew her well enough now to know when something was amiss, when her thoughts were storming inside her head. She bumped her shoulder with her own again, watched her with a soft gaze and a half-smile. “What’s up? What’re you thinkin’, Ly?” She asked, not really expecting for the brunette to open up and explain her thought process, or her feelings. But it didn’t hurt to ask.
Lori was a good talker. She stumbled over her words sometimes, but that was something emotionally-induced. Her voice broke a lot– probably ‘cause she cried a lot. She always swallowed, felt her throat constrict. Kept her eyes low. Fidgeted and picked at her fingernails. When she was upset, or any other emotion, it was noticeable. She was not trained to be anything other than herself; and she was a wreck. But she was a good talker. She licked at her lips, held her hand out in front of Lyra’s face. “May I?” She asked, not really waiting for permission before she slipped the cigarette out of Lyra’s fingertips and took a drag. She’d never been a smoker. Found her vices in other things; like alcohol. God, she could use a drink. The last time she’d had a drag was the first time she met Lyra. Had a drag or two to be cool, to try and seem like she was on her level. This was different, now. This was an attempt filtering out her thoughts, calming down the sickness and the guilt that swirled inside her throat. But, Lori, she was a good talker.
After a long drag, she passed it back to the brunette. “D’you ever just… I feel like I’ve come so far since I got here, but… Then things happen like they did at Xavier’s camp and it just… It makes me wonder. Makes me question everythin’, I guess. I mean…” she had to stop to laugh. It was hollow; without humour. “I did nothin’ out there, Ly. Stood by and watched as the people I care about got hurt. And I could’ve done somethin’, but I didn’t– I mean, yeah, the one guard, and a few others, but– I’m just… It just makes me wonder, y’know? If what my mother always used to say was true. Am I a waste of space? Will I… Will I ever be good enough? Or strong? ‘Cause, right now– I– I feel weaker than ever.” Another chuckle. “Y’should’ve seen me out there. Clutchin’ Owen and Terra and bawlin’ my eyes out. There’s… There’s people in this town that are known for things. Like Corvo, right– he’s known for bein’ an asshole, or sarcastic or whatever. And then you’ve got like… Ivy, and she’s nice and everyone loves her– and then… Then there’s me, Ly. The town crier. The girl that got bit and survived, still cried about it. Maybe she shouldn’t’ve survived at all.”
Celebrate. Out of everything Lori said, it was that particular word that stood out and captured Lyra’s attention. It was hard for her to attribute the word to anything. Hardly even understood it anymore. Celebration was an act of joy and happiness towards certain fortunate events; that was how her brain translated the meaning but she still considered the concept vague and out of place. They should. They should be celebrating but why should they? Why should they be celebrating when their victory was nothing less than superficial. Most of them had been broken by the battle that had taken place. Broken and battered and scarred so deeply that it made Lyra fail to see whatever it was they ought to be celebrating about, in Lori’s opinion. But then again, she and the blonde’s minds worked differently so, it was no surprise that Lyra failed to understand Lori’s logic. It was just like it always was between them.
Lori’s shoulder bumped against hers lightly and Lyra snapped out of her daze with a blink, glancing at her companion from the corner of her eye as she registered the blonde’s question. What was she thinking? Too much. So much that it had caused a mild throbbing in her temples. But more effective than the physical influence was the emotional one. The numbness it provoked in her. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. As if her guilt and self-hatred had gotten so fierce and intense that it caused her to somehow stop feeling them altogether. It was what she had been wishing for her whole life; that her emotions would shut off and fade away. Along with all the weaknesses they created within her. But now that she was truly experiencing the numbness she had longed for, it felt wrong somehow. Not right. The sensation left her perplexed and confused but should she express it to Lori? Would she be able to express it? Would Lori understand?
The moment where Lori had grabbed a hold of her cigarette and taken a drag allowed Lyra an extra period of time to think it through. She wasn’t any good when it came to expressing herself or being genuine about her emotions. All she had known since her mother’s death was lies and buried emotions. Shifting skins. Self-told lies and half-truths. It was how she got by. Constantly shielding herself and shying away from others behind endless defenses and infinite walls. Even the people she trusted, like Charlotte and Dexter, she hadn’t been fully honest with. It was an ingrained instinct in her to lie. Sometimes she did without even being aware of it. Which was ultimately why she remained tongue-tied and shifty-eyed as she contemplated answering Lori’s dangerous question. A lie was on the tip of her tongue, ready to be spoken so the truth would be buried one inch deeper inside her and she took a silent deep breath to release the defensive mechanism in the form of words but then Lori started talking.
Lyra listened intently as Lori’s emotions and insecurities made themselves known in the words she spoke, idly taking the cigarette the blonde handed over. When Lori was done talking, Lyra took a deep inhale to squash down the emotion rising to the surface inside her. God, but the words made the air grow cold in her lungs and the beats stutter in her heart because it was exactly how she felt. It was, admittedly, frightening to hear her own thoughts and insecurities spoken out loud and made clear because hearing them was different from thinking them. Hearing the words and registering them kind of made them seem more touchable, tangible, and real. She barely resisted the urge to raise her hands and block her ears to keep their influence away. Exhaling breath that she didn’t know she had been holding, Lyra glanced at Lori then down at her hands, conflict clear on her face. “Yeah, I—I know how you feel, Lori,” Lyra sent a sad smile her companion’s way. “I didn’t do much either. Sucks, doesn’t it?” She added in a frail attempt at nonchalance but she bet it was obvious just how much guilt she was holding in her hooded eyes and carrying atop her slumped shoulders.
It was only a couple of hours following the explosions that Lyra, with Jakob and Jewel alongside her, had run into Elijah and a group of other survivors while venturing into the forest. She had only recognized Axel among them, along with a woman whom she had distantly recognized as Rob’s sister. They had all thankfully made it out of the ruins of Fall City safe and unharmed. Together, they all ventured deeper into the forest until they came upon a clearing that seemed high enough from the ground and secluded enough that it wouldn’t easily draw attention from the clickers and that was where Elijah had decided that they ought to set up camp. Lyra had followed willingly because they were stronger as a group and it seemed to have calmed Jake once he knew that they weren’t completely on their own anymore.
However, Lyra had no intention to stay and revel in that disguised blessing. She needed to go deeper into the woods and see if she could catch sight of anyone she knew or recognized. Dexter couldn’t have gotten far in such a short time and the quicker she set out to search for him, the easier it would be to find and follow all the possible trails that he might have taken. Him or any of her other friends. Sighing wearily, she looked through her duffel bag and its contents one last time before she tightened its strap and hung it over her shoulder, standing up and walking towards the edge of the camp. She sighed again as she battled against the instinct to leave and the desire to stay and think ahead before she acted. She didn’t even tell anyone that she was leaving. Looking back at the camp and the logs where their camp fire used to be, she almost reconsidered and changed her pace but, no. She wouldn’t. No, she thought with a determined shake of her head, she wouldn’t tell anyone. She would just leave and hopefully, she would return soon enough that they wouldn’t suspect anything had happened to her. She shouldn’t be feeling guilty. She was only doing what was necessary. She needed to find Dexter because she knew he would have done the same for her. Wherever he was.
She took a step forward and almost abandoned the camp when the sound of crunching snow and intruding footsteps had her freezing on the spot.
It was unlikely for Lyra to ever appreciate the fact that she was an insomniac. It was disturbing, discomforting, and it weakened her to no end. But as the explosions hit and chaos started to arise, she found herself thankful that she was fully alert and in the right mindset. Immediately, she was on her feet, looking out of the window of her room as she was watched with a sinking heart as the once-invincible and mighty buildings of Fall City crumbled to the ground. The builds that hadn’t collapsed were on fire and where there weren’t fire, there were survivors rushing about in a frightened crowd towards the gates and eventually, towards safety. In the midst of all the fire, chaos, and terror, snow still fell upon them; white clumps that decorated the ruins and destruction and almost provided the scenery with a morbid sort of beauty.
But there was no time for nature appreciation when everything was falling apart.
Eyebrows knotted in concentration and lips pressed in a grim line, Lyra steadied herself as another bomb hit and shook the hours before reaching for her knives and strapping them on the belt of her jeans. She grabbed her gun and all the ammo she had in store before grabbing the duffel bag she usually carried during supply runs and throwing in whatever vital supplies that she had around the room; an abandoned roll of bandages, a half-used first-aid kit, two bottles of water, and a jacket beside the one she was wearing. Another relentless explosion shook the ground and caused tiny dust particles to dot her shoulders and the top of her head but she didn’t register it. Didn’t register anything beside the frantic beating of her heart and the adrenaline rush of danger and necessity.
Dexter. She needed to find Dexter. Before she even realize it, her legs were carrying her towards her housemates room and with shaking hands, she turned the knob and opened the door, only to find crumbled sheets and a cold, empty room. Muttering a panicked string of curses, Lyra rushed out of the room and searched the rest of the house but Dexter was nowhere to be found. Standing in the middle of their living room, Lyra took a deep breath and tried to will her anxiety away by telling herself over and over again that Dexter was alright; he was strong; he could survive this crisis with no trouble. But no matter what she thought or how hard she tried to convince herself, dread still sank like a pile of rocks down her guts. She had to find him. She had to see for herself that he was alright.
Necessity kicked in, though, and the practical, detached side of her ushered her to leave and look after herself. That was always the priority and it always would be. But she couldn’t even think about herself or contemplate selfishness when her thoughts were entirely consumed with concern and fear for the people she cared about. Charlotte. Shit. She had to check on Charlotte. Lori, too. And Isaac. And Juliet. And so many others that she grimaced hopelessly at the slim possibilities of all of them making it out alive. Could they? They had all survived so much in this place but this was the biggest hurdle yet. Could they really make it out of there? All of them?
Struggling the pessimism that crippled her once-sharp and calculative intellect, Lyra rushed out of the house and stood, momentarily flabbergasted, as she watched the destruction that come upon them. Looking around, she searched frantically with her eyes for traces and distinctive features of anyone she knew. She could see Charlotte with Corvo at her side as they rushed through the streets and she found herself breathing a little easier, knowing that her best friend was alright and that she was handling the situation as she ought to. Her panic lessened but didn’t fade as she searched and searched with her eyes but found no trace of Dexter. She could stand there and look around like a fool any longer, though. She needed to get to safety. She needed to survive. And she needed to keep reminding herself that that was what mattered most. She knew she was lying to herself, though. She couldn’t bring herself to care about her own survival when deep inside, she knew that she cared more about the survival and safety of those she cared about it. It was such a selfless mindset, especially with everything that was taking place around her, that it left her feeling confused and unsure. It wasn’t how she usually responded to emergency? Was this really how weak she had become?
Realizing that staying alive would give her a chance to have an identity crisis later on, Lyra rushed through the streets, taking familiar shortcuts through back-alleys and pursuing the route that would hopefully get her to the front gates with no trouble.
As she ran, she kept searching the trembling crowds and collapsing buildings for signs of anyone she recognized that might need help but she found none. Grimacing at the hopelessness the fact transpired, Lyra turned to head to the weapons shed but almost got stuck under one of the collapsing towers. It blocked her way and that was how she knew that she wouldn’t be able to reach the shed. Groaning in frustration, Lyra turned and followed her original route towards the gates. They were in her line of sight when she heard what sounded like muffled sobs and someone muttering to themselves. Along with familiar, low, throaty whines of a dog. Head snapping towards the source of the sound, her eyes fell on who she immediately recognized as Jakob and his dog, Jewel.
Before she could even contemplate abandoning him and saving herself as she probably would have many months ago, she ran towards him and crouched in front of him. He was in shock. His gaze was glazed and far away as he stared at a point in the distance and didn’t even register her presence. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and her was muttering low assurances to himself while clutching desperate at Jewel who tilted its head forward and licked Lyra’s cheek, whining as Jakob refused to let the animal go.
Lyra sighed sadly as she recalled witnessing Jake in this state one time, back when they had first met. Jakob had panicked over the loss of his brother, asking her if she had seen him or encountered him anywhere. It left Lyra feeling sick to the heart and stomach back then. And right now, it left her feeling even worse. She needed to snap him out of it and get them, and Jewel, out of the city before the whole place crumbled over their heads.
“Jake,” She said, reaching up run her fingers through his hair in what she believed to be a soothing manner. She could simply slap him or lift him over her shoulder and run for it but that wasn’t the right way to deal with Jake, especially with the shock he was in. “Jake, it’s alright. I’m here, okay?”
Blinking as if he had snapped out of a trance, Jakob started crying again as soon as his eyes met hers and he registered Lyra’s presence. He let go of Jewel, only to grab at Lyra’s forearms as fresh tears trickled down his cheeks and incomprehensible mutters and pleas left his mouth.
“I’m here. It’s going to be fine. We’re going to stay together and everything will be fine. Just like before, okay?” She assured him, running her fingers through his hair one last time before she grabbed his shoulders and prompted him to stand up. His knees were trembling and she doubted he could walk without stumbling in his current state of panic and anxiety but she couldn’t let that stand in their way. They needed to get to safety.
“C’mon, we need to go. It’s not safe here,” She said before turning to lead them towards the gates but Jakob grabbed her hand, shaking his head in protest. Squeezing his sweaty palm, Lyra forced a smile his way before she started ushering him, with Jewel at their trail, towards the gates. “I told you, it’s gonna be fine. Just stay close to me and as long as we’re together, nothing bad is going to happen.”
With those words, Lyra tightened her grip on Jakob’s hand, swallowed down her own anxiety, and started running towards the gates as they left behind the ruined sanctuary that was once Fall City and headed towards the forest and the deep unknown.
He always had spoken too much, random details about things that no one really cared to know about. Expect for his History teacher in Uni, those two could talk for hours but that was also because the man was Jake’s adviser. So as Jake spoke of his beloved dog and watched her more so than the person he was indirectly speaking towards, it was more like word vomit, speaking without reason or consent from the other person. It didn’t even register that he knew the other person, that was until Jewel happily trotted over to the young woman and nudged against her hand with a familiar setting. Well, if Jewel knew this person then perhaps Jake did as well. So he turned his blue eyes up and instantly his brows arched which was accompanied with a laugh. He had perfect memory of course he remembered her, remembered the time they spent together, remembered her name.
“Lyra!!”
Maybe he was a little too excited, but the young man bounced over to his friend and encompassed her in a rather tight hug. Boundaries weren’t a thing Jakob understood and he often had to be reminded that they existed for other people. A good thirty or more seconds passed before Jakob even realized he could have been invading her space and the blonde man backed off but didn’t remove the smile from his face.
“I’m so glad to see you! How are you?”
There was no guilt that he would give her, no punishment because to Jakob she had done no wrong. She’d had her reasons and did what she had to, hell, he’d even forgotten what had happened for the most part. Not fully, of course, but enough to where he had already forgiven her for all but abandoning him out in that damn world. But now she was back in his life again, things were good, things would be okay, the panic that he had been feeling recently would go away and Gregory would come back and everything would be fine. That’s what Jakob had to keep telling himself or else he’d fall into the abyss that was paranoia and severe panic. But no, not now, now Lyra was back. She was safe.
“Did you shrink? I think I remember you being taller, Jewls missed you! OH! Hey! I can actually play my cello for you now!”
A warm and humorous laugh left his lips and Jake almost clapped, his stutter gone mostly because the familiar setting of comfort around the young woman came back into place. Naive, yes, stupid, yes, but Jakob didn’t know that. He was still slightly naive to the cruelty of others; oblivious to how others could and would use him.
She still couldn’t comprehend what was going on. It was as if reality had become suspended on the moment where she had seen Jake and recalled everything they’ve been through together. And a time where he had been the only thing that mattered to her besides her own survival. Lyra was so busy visiting moments they had experienced together in her mind that she had lost sight and awareness of her surroundings. Up until that moment when Jake had all but bounded towards her with, apparently, all the joy that was left in their wretched world; it was radiating from him. In his movements, in his familiar grin, in his mannerisms. All in the few suspended seconds prior to those where he had engulfed her in his arms and started gradually squeezing the life out of her. It felt out of this world, to be back with him this way again, as if no time had passed and no betrayals were made, but it was so familiar and warm that she didn’t think it over long enough to feel awkward or uncomfortable. She welcomed it.
Twining her arms around Jakob’s shoulders, Lyra couldn’t help but chuckle at the sensation of the embrace. It was warm and welcoming and genuine and familiar. And all of a sudden, she was really glad that Jake was alive and okay and right fucking there. As he stepped back, Lyra couldn’t help but grab at his forearms and squeeze. He was there. God damn it, but she still couldn’t believe it. His edges were definitely roughened, at least, physically; light brown stubble dusting his cheeks and clear signs of fatigue displayed all over his demeanor. He had also grown taller and broader. But other than that, he was still the same. He hadn’t changed at all. The thought brought a grin to her lips; her cheeks felt strange as it had been what felt like an eternity since she had smiled this widely and this genuinely but it felt good. She didn’t give herself a chance to overthink it.
“I—” She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief as she squeezed Jakob’s forearms again. “I just—I’m fine but—” She laughed again. His cheer was as contagious as it had always been. “I just can’t believe you’re here. It’s so good to see you again!”
Laughing again, Lyra raised an eyebrow at him and cocked her head. “I’m afraid the reason is in you and not me. You’ve grown taller! I almost didn’t recognize you.” As Jakob mentioned Jewel—which she recalled was his dog’s name—Lyra let him go and crouched across from the dog before stroking at its ears and the top of its head fondly, scrunching her nose softly when she received numerous licks in return.
Standing up again, Lyra sighed in contentment because damn, it was a turn of events that she had not expected. She had tried so hard to forget about Jake and let him go because she saw her attachment to him as a weakness and so she vowed to rid herself of it and put her own survival and strength over everything else. Looking at him now and imagining what could have happened to him after she had abandoned him it—it had her heartbeat stuttering in grief and she forced herself to swallow down her guilt as she threw another grin his way, grabbing his forearms again, confirming to himself that he was there. It was like no time had passed.
Of course she wasn’t okay, she hadn’t been for a while, but there was no way she’d let Lyra know about it, it was best if she kept it to herself. “Wow, who can’t take a joke now?”
Raising one unimpressed eyebrow, Lyra resisted the urge to call Juliet out on her obvious bullshit but for some reason, she didn’t. Instead, she shrugged and tilted her head with narrowed, questioning eyes. “I’m just asking if you’re okay. It’s been a while since we last talked, that’s all.”
“Oh— She’s uh, good girl, four years old.
Her name is Jewel if you wanna pet her
t-that’s okay t-too. Just let her smell you
first, d-did you know chocolate labs have
a life expectancy of t-twelve t-to t-thirteen
years?”
He’s talking about the chocolate lab that is stationed at his side, eyes trained up at Jakob in expectation before he nodded to her as if there was some kind of secret language the two held. With his nod the dog perked up a bit before wagging her tail, sniffing the air near the person to which Jakob had been speaking to, not fully moving forward but staying by Jakob’s side. But now there was a smile that pulled at the young man’s lips and he couldn’t help but reach down to pet at Jewels.
Lyra had been randomly passing by when it happened. The soft barks of a dog had attracted her attention and she had instinctively turned to find at the source of the sound. Her eyes fell on the dog and she couldn’t take them off. Silly she might have looked, standing in the middle of the street, staring at a dog like a creeper, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of it. It was familiar. Its barking, its color, its shape. Everything about the animal tingled her awareness and memory in a way that she couldn’t figure out. She stood there and stared for god knew how long until the man sitting next to the dog—presumably, its owner—turned around and started talking to her. And it was when she saw his face that it really happened.
Memories flashed in her mind’s eye, dozens of them, all involving the blond man sitting two feet across from her, stroking his dog with utter fondness and love. She recalled the memory of a camp fire that they had sat around. She recalled snippets of deep conversations and shared memories. She also recalled a cello for some reason but in that moment, none of it mattered. What mattered was that she knew him. Knew the man who was sitting there, completely oblivious to her reaction as he stroked his dog again and again. The more she looked at him, the clearer her memories became and the faster her heart beat. And for once, she knew it wasn’t anxiety or fear.
