If the universe could grant Nutmeg one wish, she'd ask for a cigarette. Anything to steel her quivering hands. She'd already begged for Five's life, but that call went unanswered.
Burnt hair, burnt skin, burnt cotton and wool. The sharp, metallic stench of burnt ozone. She sits with her back to Five's body and her knees pulled to her chest. Her tears have painted trails in the black, sooty residue coating her cheeks and her shoulders shake with silent sobs, but she can't cry anymore.
Sitting here is useless, a waste of valuable time. Her legs refuse to let her stand. A terrible sound halfway between a wet cough and a hiccup leaves her throat. She brushes her nose with the back of her hand, and casts a desperate glance around the rubble and wreckage. There has to be a safe space somewhere. She can't leave him here. He deserves a proper burial. When she's prepared to look at him again, she'll take his jacket—a memento and a means of preserving her modesty. Practical. Good. It's good to have a plan.
Lost in despair and sorrow and self-pity, she doesn't register the slow, struggling movements behind her. It's only when he begins to speak that she scrambles to face him. His labored words are a lead balloon that steals what shallow breath she has.
"I never asked you to save me—I asked you to stay."
Bloodshot coal eyes widen in alarm. Confusion. She's been touched in the head. Or he has. She can't be hearing him right. She doesn't dare ask him to repeat it. "You idiot." Several seconds of stunned silence pass before she can speak anything else. "You didn't have to ask." It takes all the restraint she has to keep her voice level and calm. "If you think I could sit idly and let you die, you never knew me at all."
Her lower lip wobbles. She very nearly vibrates with nervous energy. Right now, more than anything, she wants to throw her arms around him and feel his pulse with her own. She's pretty sure he doesn't want that.
"CPR wasn't enough. I panicked. It would take too long to find help. I thought I could—" Her eyes trail from her hands to his chest to his face. "I've jumpstarted plenty of cars, but never a...person." Her expression crumples. "I tried, I really tried. I was so scared, Five. I thought I gave you too much. That you were toast. I tried to pull back, absorb the energy, but it was too late. I thought I killed you."
Small, fluttering gasps burble past her lips as the closest thing she can muster to laughter. She looks toward the sky. "Turns out I'm Victor-fucking-Frankenstein." Once the wheezing dies off, her gaze falls to meet Five once more. "And because I'm such an angel, I'm not even going to say you owe me. It's not like you asked for this." She sniffs, manages a faint smile. "Ungrateful brat. Until I'm gone, you do, unfortunately, have to live."
@temp0rt5l / playing hero (take two)
