No one

To cope with the void she left, you fell into a predictable, shallow pattern with other women. It was always the exact same cycle: you’d go on about eight dates, enjoy a few weeks of great sex, realize you felt absolutely nothing for them, and end it before things got serious. You couldn't form a real connection with anyone else because nobody was her.

Until tonight.

You stepped into the sleek glass elevator of the upscale restaurant, holding the hand of the readhead girl you’d been seeing for five months. It was your fourth "official" date, and while she was sweet, attentive, and genuinely liked you, you were already mentally calculating how many more weeks you’d give this before calling it quits.

Just as the metal doors began to glide shut, a hand blocked the sensor.

The doors slid back open, and your entire world ground to a halt.

Stepping into the cramped space was Nikki. She looked breath-taking, sharp, effortless, and wearing that familiar, intoxicating perfume that immediately hijacked your senses. But your eyes quickly dropped to her arm, which was wrapped snugly around the elbow of a polished, tall guy in a tailored suit.

From what you knew through the grapevine, they’d been together for over a year now. Something "stable." Something "durable."

The silence inside the elevator turned razor-thin. Nikki’s eyes locked onto yours, wide with brief shock before narrowing into a cold, lethal glare. Her gaze flicked down to your hand holding the blonde’s, then back up to your face.

Instead of saying a word, both of you put on an absolute performance.

Throughout the night at adjacent tables, the double-date became an unacknowledged war of egos. You laughed a little too loudly at your date's jokes, slinging your arm over her chair to play the attentive partner. Meanwhile, Nikki leaned into her boyfriend, whispering in his ear and smiling sweetly while her eyes remained fixed on you like a predator tracking prey.

Neither of you was listening to a single word your actual partners were saying. You were both far too busy trying to prove who had moved on better.

Excusing yourself to the restroom just to breathe, you turned on the faucet and leaned over the sink, splashing cold water onto your face.

The heavy bathroom door creaked open behind you. Through the mirror, you saw Nikki walk in, turning the lock with a soft, decisive click.

She crossed her arms, slowly walking up behind you. Her reflection in the mirror was burning holes into yours as her eyes aggressively scanned your outfit, your hair, and every subtle change in your appearance.

"Look at you," Nikki purred, her voice dripping with pure condescension. "All dressed up for a redhead. Since when do you go for that type? You used to only have eyes for dark hair... for me."

You turned around, leaning back against the marble counter and trying to play it cool, though your heart was hammering against your ribs.

"Well," you replied smoothly, letting out a small, amused huff, "I didn't know we were switching things up entirely. Last time I checked, you weren't taking men seriously either, but here we are."

Nikki’s jaw tightened. The smug grin vanished, replaced by that dangerous, possessive dark spark in her eyes that you knew all too well.

"He’s stable," she snapped, stepping closer until she was inches from your chest. "Unlike you."

"Right. Keep telling yourself that while you stare at me from across the room all night," you shot back.

By the time you walked back out to the dining area, your ego was completely rattled. Your head was a chaotic mess, and it showed. You accidentally knocked over a glass of water, barely paid attention when your date spoke, and acted completely distant on the drive home.

"What is wrong with you tonight?" your date finally snapped, frustrated as you pulled up to her place. "You're acting like a completely different person!"

You apologized profusely, pulling her inside to distract her from your terrible mood. You ended up giving her a passionate, intense night in bed, a desperate attempt to compensate for your distracted behavior and drown out the ghost of your ex-wife.

The next morning, you woke up with a heavy head and an even heavier heart. As you picked up your suit jacket from the bedroom floor, your fingers brushed against something stiff inside the inner pocket.

You pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. Written on it in messy black ink was a phone number, Nikki’s number. She must have slipped it in when she brushed past you in the bathroom.

At first, you tried to ignore it. You tossed the paper onto your nightstand and tried to go about your day. But the anxiety gnawed at you. Driven by a sudden wave of nostalgia, you opened your phone to check your social media accounts, only to realize the joint profile you two used to share was completely gone, deleted, disconnected. A hollow ache bloomed in your chest. Remembering how good things were before the toxicity took over, you couldn't resist anymore.

Your fingers moved on autopilot as you typed out a quick text to the number: “Hotel room on 5th. 20 minutes.”

You didn't even have to wait fifteen minutes.

The moment you unlocked the door, Nikki barged in like a storm. She didn't say a word. She grabbed the lapels of your jacket, violently shoving you backward until your spine slammed hard against the hotel wall. Her hands were frantic, cupping your jaw, her fingernails digging deep into your skin as she yanked your face down to hers.

When her lips met yours, it was bruising and desperate. It tasted like expensive wine, dangerous nostalgia, and pure, unfiltered rage. You gripped her waist, lifting her until her legs wrapped firmly around your hips, pinning her against the wall while her mouth devoured yours.

"God, I hate you," Nikki gasped against your lips, her breath hot and ragged as her fingers tore at your shirt buttons, popping two of them off in her haste.

"Shut up, Nikki," you growled, carrying her over to the king-sized bed and throwing her onto the mattress.

She didn't wait. She scrambled back against the headboard, her dark eyes glittering with a predatory edge as she kicked off her heels and unzipped her dress, letting the fabric fall away to reveal dark lace underneath. The sight of her, sprawled out, panting, completely open for you, narrowed your entire world down to just her.

You crawled over the mattress, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while your other hand slid up her inner thigh, shoving her lace underwear aside. Nikki arched her back with a sharp, high-pitched gasp as your fingers slid seamlessly into her heat, already drenched and aching for you.

"You're soaking," you whispered near her ear, teasing her wet fold with slow, deliberate pressure. "Did you think about this while you were sitting across from me with your boyfriend?"

Nikki let out a breathless whine, her hips rolling desperately against your hand. "Don't talk about him... just fucking touch me!"

You didn't give her a second to recover. You aligned yourself with her entrance and drove into her with one swift, deep thrust.

Nikki threw her head back into the pillows, a loud, echoing scream of pleasure ripping from her throat. The slick sound of your bodies crashing together filled the room, fast and relentless. She wrapped her arms tight around your neck, burying her face in the crook of your collarbone, biting down hard enough to leave a bruise as you established a brutal, unforgiving rhythm.

Every slide out and deep plunge drove her insane. Her walls clamped tightly around you, her hands clawing down your bare back, leaving red trails in her wake. You pinned her legs over your shoulders, thrusting deeper, hitting that exact spot that made her toes curl and her voice break into unhinged moans.

The bed frame banged violently against the wall with every stroke. You kept up the brutal pace until the phone on the nightstand started ringing off the hook, the front desk desperately trying to call after noise complaints from neighboring rooms—but neither of you cared. You pressed your lips back onto hers, swallowing her loud, shattered cries as her climax tore through her. Her body shook uncontrollably around you, her inner muscles contracting in intense waves that instantly pushed you over the edge, spilling deep inside her as you let out a guttural groan.

When the storm finally cleared, the room was silent except for the heavy sound of both your breathing.

Nikki lay curled up on your chest, her body limp and warm, her head resting right over your heart. Your fingers were slowly tracing mind-soothing, delicate patterns up and down the bare skin of her spine, feeling every shudder that occasionally rippled through her.

"It was weird," Nikki whispered softly into the quiet, her thumb lazily tracing your collarbone. "Trying to live without you. I kept catching myself doing old habits."

"Like what?" you murmured, pressing a soft kiss into her dark hair.

"I still order my coffee the way you like it," she admitted, her voice dropping to a fragile whisper. "And every time I buy a burger... I still catch myself asking for no tomatoes."

You closed your eyes, absorbing the sweet, bitter sting of her words, knowing that despite the quiet vulnerability, both of you were already trapped back in the web.

Over the next two weeks, your secret meetings with Nikki became a second life. You met up in obscure motels, quiet parking lots late at night, and dimly lit hotel rooms. It was pure chaos, but you set one firm rule between you to keep the delusion alive:

"No touching your actual partners. Sex is strictly between us."

It was a twisted boundary, but it gave both of you a sense of exclusive possession over each other.

Then came Thursday night. You took your girlfriend out for drinks to make up for being so distant lately. One drink turned into four, and by the time you pulled up outside her apartment, you were completely intoxicated. The booze dulled your judgment, and when she leaned in to kiss you, you didn't pull away.

You spent the night with her, entirely lost in a drunken haze.

The next afternoon, you met Nikki in your usual hotel room. The second you peeled off your shirt, Nikki’s eyes locked onto your neck and collarbone. Dark red, undeniable hickeys were painted across your skin.

Nikki froze. Her expression transformed from eager anticipation into pure, unhinged fury.

"What the fuck is that?" she choked out, her voice trembling with rage. She lunged forward, slamming her hands against your chest and tracing the marks with brutal pressure. "You fucked her! You promised me!"

"Nikki, I was drunk—"

"I don't give a shit!" she screamed, slapping your hand away as you tried to touch her. "You broke the rule!"

She grabbed her bag, glaring at you with venom in her eyes before storming out, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled.

Consumed by spite and heartbreak, Nikki drove straight to the house she shared with her boyfriend. She was determined to hurt you the same way you hurt her.

She dragged him into the bedroom, pulling him down onto the bed and kissing him with aggressive, desperate heat. But her movements were rushed, frantic, and completely hollow.

Her boyfriend gently grabbed her wrists, pulling back and looking down at her with a heavy, pained expression.

"Nikki... stop," he whispered softly.

"What?" Nikki gasped, her breath ragged as she tried to pull him back down. "What's wrong with you?"

"It’s your ex-wife, isn't it?"

Nikki went dead silent. Her eyes widened in absolute shock, her body freezing underneath him.

He let out a tired sigh, sitting up on the edge of the bed and running a hand through his hair. "I’m not blind, Nikki. You’ve been distracted for weeks. Every time your phone vibrates, you flinch. You look at me, but you’re not really here. I thought maybe I was crazy, but seeing you try to force this right now..."

"I... I can explain," Nikki stammered, her voice shaking.

"Don't," he said quietly, looking back at her with genuine sadness. "I forgive you, Nikki. I really do. But I’m not going to let myself be a placeholder while you ruin yourself over her again. We’re done."

He walked out, leaving Nikki sitting alone in the silence of his room, completely single, utterly unhinged, and with nothing left to lose.

After her breakup, Nikki was completely single and unhinged. You, on the other hand, still hadn't broken things off with your sweet redhead girlfriend. She was good to you, and losing the title of "ex-wife" with Nikki felt like losing the last string attaching you to her. You wanted both: the comfort of a normal relationship and the sick, addicting high of your ex-wife.

A few nights later, you met Nikki at her apartment while your girlfriend was out of town. The moment the door locked, there was no arguing. Nikki pulled you into her bed with an intense, quiet desperation.

She straddled your lap, her hands pinning your wrists against the headboard as she lowered herself onto you. Every stroke was agonizingly deep, slow, and possessive. Nikki leaned down, her dark hair falling around your face like a curtain, her eyes burning into yours with a terrifying mix of affection and madness.

"You're mine," Nikki hissed against your neck, her fingernails digging violently into your hips as she set a relentless, punishing pace. "You think you can play house with her? You're still fucking my wife."

You bucked your hips up to meet her, hands gripping her waist tightly as the wet, heavy rhythm echoed through her dark bedroom. Nikki threw her head back, gasping as you flipped her over, pinning her legs high against your shoulders and driving into her with brutal depth. She arched her back, her fingers clutching the sheets, crying out your name in ragged, breathless whimpers.

While you were blinded by the heat of the moment, completely buried inside her body, Nikki reached behind her head. Her fingers blindly blindly grabbed your phone off the nightstand.

Without breaking eye contact with you, her thumbs flew across the screen. She unlocked it, opened your messages with your girlfriend, and hit Send Location along with a quick text: “Come over, the door is unlocked.”

Five minutes later, as the bed rattled against the wall and Nikki’s moans hit a fever pitch, the front door clicked open.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. The bedroom door swung wide open, and your girlfriend froze in the doorway, her mouth falling open in horror at the scene in front of her.

Panic shot through your spine. You tried to pull out, tried to push yourself off the mattress, but Nikki moved faster.

Nikki slammed her hands against the sides of your face, her grip like iron, locking your head in place. She forced your face down to hers, her dark eyes wide and gleaming with pure, unadulterated victory.

"Don't you dare stop," Nikki whispered, a dark, manic smile spreading across her lips.

She wrapped her legs tight around your waist, locking you inside her and forcing you to keep thrusting deep into her heat while your girlfriend watched in absolute shattered silence. Nikki devoured your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your panicked gasps as she held you hostage in the act, claiming you completely, publicly, and forever.

Your girlfriend stood in the doorway, hyperventilating as her eyes darted between you and your ex-wife. Tears spilled down her cheeks, her voice cracking as she choked out, "Is this... is this why you were acting so distant? After everything? After the promise we made?!"

She reached into her purse with trembling hands, pulled out the dainty silver promise ring you had given her just two months ago, and threw it right at your chest. The ring bounced off your bare skin and clattered uselessly onto the floor.

Nikki didn't even pause. She leaned her chin on your shoulder, letting out a cruel, mock-pitying chuckle that echoed through the room.

"A promise ring?" Nikki purred, her voice dripping with venomous amusement as she ran her long nails over your chest. "How sweet. But you see... she gave me a real ring. A wedding band. And no matter how hard she tried to run away, she came right back on her knees begging for more."

The words crushed what was left of your girlfriend's heart. She sobbed, turned around, and bolted out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

You didn't move an inch. You didn't run after her, you didn't call out her name, and you certainly didn't feel a single shred of guilt. Like a brainwashed fool, your entire world had narrowed right back down to Nikki.

Nikki cupped your jaws, her thumbs digging into your cheekbones as she forced your eyes to lock with hers. A dark, possessive spark flashed in her gaze, a smirk playing on her lips as her hips rolled against you once again.

"Look at you," she whispered, leaning in closer until her lips brushed against yours. "Such a good little girl for me. You really don't give a damn about anyone else, do you?"

"Only you," you confessed breathlessly, sinking right back into her heat as if the rest of the world didn't exist.

Nikki let out a soft, satisfied hum before leaning in and biting down hard on your lower lip, sharp enough to leave a sting, taking complete ownership of you all over again.

"Good," Nikki whispered against your bruised mouth, her grip tightening on the back of your neck. "Because now that we cleared out the extra garbage... we can finally pick up right where we left off. And after marriage, you know what step comes next..."

She took your hand and pressed your palm firmly against her own flat stomach, her smile turning entirely unhinged as she looked up at you.

-I don't wanna sleep, I don't wanna dream, 'cause my dreams don't comfort me the way you make me feel; wakin' up to you never felt so real-

~X~ NATALIE ~X~ January 3rd, 1997 ~X~

Natalie bit her lip as she sat by your side. You pushed yourself too hard today and now you were slipping in and out of consciousness yet again. There was something frantic about the way you acted all day, well, more frantic than usual anyway. Like you wanted to make up for the few days you were recovering. “Reckless idiot,” she cursed under her breath as Jackie placed a new wet cloth on your forehead.

Yet your fever only got worse as hours passed.

The wind whistled harshly outside the cabin, and she dared to glance outside, wondering how much longer the blizzard that started a few hours ago would last. The cabin was cold, the fire doing very little to combat the cold seeping through the wooden walls.

Someone’s stomach growled, maybe her own, maybe Jackie’s, maybe someone else’s. It hardly mattered at this point. There was no food left, and in this blizzard, they couldn’t even go out to look for anything. The net was repaired, but ultimately uselessly tucked in the corner of an already small cabin.

You coughed again, in a way that made her blood run cold, but before she could react Jackie moved behind you, lifting you up a bit to ease your breathing, if only for a short while.

“Is there really nothing we can do?” Akilah walked over and sat down near you, and Natalie just looked at Misty, who shook her head for what felt like the thousandth time. Without medicine there was nothing that could be done. They didn’t even have any medicinal herbs, let alone antibiotics.

“She’ll pull through,” Jackie refused to accept that it was only a matter of time at this point, stubbornly clinging to you like her presence alone could fix whatever was killing you from the inside. It made Natalie clench her fists.

How Natalie wished she could be as optimistic; or at least hope. As it was, as she sat there, her shoulders slumped and entire body tense, her eyes only dry because she had no tears left to cry, all she felt was hopeless emptiness, mourning you ahead of time.

Before anyone could say anything, you began coughing again, harsh, wet coughs sounding like they were ripping through your throat, shook your entire body. “Y/N!” Natalie reached for you, moving to kneel by your side as your body curled up and you clawed at your throat, choking between coughs.

“Baby, come on, come on,” Jackie of all people moved, Akilah jumping to help her as they made you sit up and held you like that as you coughed into your hands. Aside from your coughing no one made a sound, though everyone moved closer, terrified of what would happen to you, but also afraid to get any closer, fearing they’d overwhelm you if too many people were too close.

You eventually slumped back into Jackie’s arms, still occasionally coughing while you looked around, your eyes unfocused. But the worst passed for now. Or so Natalie thought, until she saw a thin trail of red starting from your lips. “What the fuck, Y/N?” she gasped, fresh, angry tears she thought she ran out of making her eyes burn.

“What?” Jackie asked breathlessly, a choked sound escaping past her lips. She probably followed Natalie’s line of sight and saw blood. “Y/N?” she whispered your name in a shaky, terrified voice as her trembling fingers brushed over the red line, smudging it.

“I’ll be fine,” you lied, wincing at how weak your voice was. Natalie was just few feet away from you, and even she barely heard you. “I’ll be-“ you tried to speak louder and immediately coughed. You tilted your head back, breathing heavily.

Every breath you took sounded like you ran a marathon.

“You won’t be,” Misty disagreed and Natalie wasn’t even sure when she approached you, but she knelt by you and Jackie, Akilah stepping to the side to give her space. The girl looked at you and shook her head. “You’ve got pneumonia,” she said, making Natalie feel like the entire cabin was spinning and threatening to collapse.

“Oh,” you muttered, like you weren’t even so surprised.

You weren’t surprised and Natalie just sat back, her entire body feeling numb and weightless. They had no means to treat a cold, and you had fucking pneumonia, out here in the middle of nowhere. She looked at you, struggling to process Misty’s diagnosis. It was like your body suddenly morphed in the past few days, growing thinner and more frail, stripping you of your strength.

“You’re wrong. Why would you say that?!” Jackie rejected it furiously, trembling behind you as she glared at Misty. Misty stepped back, looking away to avoid Jackie’s fury. Jackie, however, focused on you, wetting a clean cloth to wipe your face and hands.

“I don’t think she is, Captain,” you muttered, somehow sounding softer when you were talking to Jackie even in this situation. And Jackie shut her eyes, trying not to cry and failing as tears slid down her cheeks and dripped onto your shoulder.

Natalie clenched her fists, her nails mercilessly digging into her palms. “Did you know today?” Natalie asked, her voice trembling as she looked at you, heartbroken, furious, not even sure what she felt at this point.

And you, damn you for that, nodded, reaching up to place your hand over Jackie’s, your thumb slowly brushing over the back of Jackie’s hand. “Not what it was, just that I’m coughing up blood,” you rasped, struggling to get even those few words out.

Jackie inhaled sharply, and from the corner of her eyes Natalie noticed some of the other girls reacting as well, either gasping in shock or slumping back in despair. What the fuck were any of them supposed to do now?

She looked at you again, swallowing the lump in your throat. Your eyes remained unfocused, empty, like you fucking gave up. For the first time since Natalie met you it truly looked like you were done, too tired to even try and fight this. “Fuck!” she cried out, getting up and walking away from you, heading straight to the pantry so she wouldn’t have to look at you.

“Nat!” Travis rushed in after her and she turned to look at him, shaking her head and just falling into his arms, her body trembling as she her heart being ripped out of her. “I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head, by accident doing something you would do from time to time, nearly shattering what little remained of her.

~X~ JACKIE ~X~

The blizzard still continued, and the snow had already reached the windows when she last checked. Jackie didn’t even know how high it got since then, or how many hours passed. She was the only one awake from the looks of it, terrified to fall asleep. She sat against the wall; a single blanket covered her back as she held you against her chest.

You couldn’t lie down anymore, choking almost immediately, so, this was the only option.

She couldn’t even tell if you were sleeping or unconscious at this point. “If I could save time in a bottle the first thing that I'd like to do-“ she tried to sing softly and choked up, a quiet sob coming out instead of words as she hugged you tighter.

“Is to save every day,” you tried and coughed for your efforts. “Sorry,” you mumbled, making Jackie sniffle helplessly.

She reached over, taking a mug filled with water that Mari brought when she tossed more wood into the fireplace. “Shh, just drink,” Jackie whispered, bringing the mug to your lips and slowly tipping it as you took a few sips.

Your entire body shuddered suddenly and Jackie glanced at the fire, slowly dying out and slowly began untangling from you. “Please don’t,” you rasped, holding her wrist just a bit firmer. “Just stay with me,” you whispered and turned your head a bit so your ear was pressed against her chest, where her heart was.

“Okay,” Jackie whispered, clinging to you and running her fingers through your hair.

“And just when we,” you whispered, sounding so weak and defeated broke something in Jackie yet again. There was no need to finish that sentence, not with the way you clung to her like a terrified child. “I don’t want to die like this,” you sobbed.

Jackie froze, your sobs and coughs breaking them apart fading as she stared into the distance. “You’re going to get better,” she argued, stubbornly, even as the reality crashed into both of you.

“I’m not,” you shook your head, and your hand, already barely gripping her own, fell, all your strength long gone at this point. “I don’t want to leave you here,” you whimpered.

Fresh tears spilled from Jackie’s eyes as she reached behind and unclasped her necklace. “You won’t,” she refused it, just like she refused to leave you in the snow, now she refused to give up on you as she put her heart necklace around your neck. You didn’t react, exhaustion taking over and making you fall asleep again. “I love you,” she whispered, hoping that somehow you could hear her.

~X~ JACKIE ~X~ January 4th, 1997 ~X~

Jackie gasped, waking up with a startle and was met with the cabin illuminated by nothing but the fire from the fireplace, no one even dared to light the lamp, they were running out of oil or whatever the lamps were using. She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but you weren’t coughing, so she didn’t wake up sooner.

She looked at you, seeing you were sleeping, your breathing slow and steady. If you didn’t have fever she probably could have convinced herself that you were just sleeping, perfectly fine. “She’s not coughing. That’s a good sign, right?” she asked, noticing Misty nearby.

Misty eyed you as Nat brought heated water bottles to replace the ones under your blanket. “She usually reacts when we do that,” Misty pointed out and sure enough, instead of stirring like you did over the past couple of days, you didn’t react in any way. Not even frowning.

You were just sleeping, you were recovering, you were just too exhausted to react this time. That was all.

“Y/N?” Nat called your name and shook you gently. You didn’t react.

You didn’t react!

Jackie’s heart hammered against her chest and she held her breath, focusing only on the sound of your breathing. You were breathing, you were in her arms, you were fine. Right? So why weren’t you reacting? Why weren’t you waking up?!

“Wake up,” she whispered, pulling you closer and shaking you a bit. Yet nothing happened. “Misty!” she cried out at the same time as Nat and Misty flinched but rushed to your side.

“Let me,” Misty said, and Nat immediately stepped to the side, giving her space. Misty’s hands trembled as she splashed your face with water, yet nothing happened.

“Misty, what’s wrong with her?” Taissa approached slowly, with some of the other girls with her.

“She’s breathing, why isn’t she waking up?” Van asked, sounding distraught.

Misty visibly swallowed the lump in her throat and opened your eyes only to them scramble back, falling onto the floor and looking at you with wide, terrified eyes. Crystal rushed to her side, placing her hands on Misty’s shoulders to comfort her.

“Misty, say something!” Nat demanded and Misty closed her eyes, turning her head away.

“I, I can’t be sure, but I think she might be in a coma,” she whispered, yet it was loud enough that everyone heard her.

The whole cabin began spinning in front of Jackie’s eyes and her breathing grew erratic. Coma? From the corner of her eyes, she saw Nat leaning against the wall and sliding down to the floor, looking at the floor and shaking.

“So, so she’s just going to die?” Jackie didn’t even recognize the voices anymore, she just stared at you.

“Lottie did say she was claimed by the water!”

“Not like this!”

“She might still wake up!”

“If she doesn’t die of thirst, maybe.”

“What do we do? Just pour water down her throat?”

“A comatose patient can’t swallow, she’ll just breathe it in! All we can do is keep her mouth damp so it doesn’t get too dry.”

She suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and jerked her head up, staring wide-eyed at Lottie, kneeling by her side. “Breathe, focus on me, Jackie,” Lottie said firmly, gently squeezing her shoulder. “What would Y/N tell you now?” she asked, trying to ground Jackie through you.

For a moment, the time she had a panic attack crossed her mind. Pink horse, your arms around her, your voice.

Jackie swallowed, despite how dry her throat felt. “Pink horse, I shouldn’t think about a pink horse,” so, naturally, she thought about a pink horse. And then she looked down at Lottie’s hand, and in an instant seething rage overwhelmed her. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” she accused through gritted teeth.

Lottie looked down, pulling back her hand, for a moment Jackie could have sword she saw guilt in her eyes. “Not like this. Not this,” she hesitated, “torture,” the word echoed through the cabin, even if Lottie said it softly, her voice filled with regret.

For a moment it looked like the old Lottie was back, the one who didn’t claim people were claimed by the water, the one who didn’t know things she shouldn’t know. Their Lottie would never want this to happen to anyone, let alone a teammate.

“It doesn’t matter what she wanted, this isn’t her fault,” Nat said and suddenly she was on her feet, glaring at someone in the back of the group. Jackie followed Nat’s line of sight and saw exactly who Nat was glaring at.

Shauna.

~X~ NATALIE ~X~

One moment she was sitting on the floor, the next she was on her feet, marching toward the doors. No one stopped her, no one was thinking clearly enough to stop her, and before they could figure out what she was doing, she grabbed the rifle, checked to see if the bullet was inside and in one swift motion turned around and raised the rifle, pointing it at Shauna.

She heard gasps, heard her name being yelled, and she couldn’t care less. Only one thing mattered now.

Shauna froze, her eyes widening in fear as she stared at the rifle. ‘Good, feel a fraction of what she felt,’ Natalie thought, her hands shaking as she stood there, breathing heavily. She should have done this days ago. Fuck your stupid decision to spare Shauna. She didn’t deserve it. Shauna took you from her.

“Nat, lower the rifle,” Taissa said softly, taking a slow step closer.

“Not a single step! Stay the fuck out of this!” Natalie yelled, nearly pointing the rifle at Taissa as well.

Hot tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision. It didn’t matter; Shauna was too close to miss her.

Shauna’s hand automatically went to her stomach. “I didn’t mean,” Shauna whispered, fear making her voice tremble.

“I don’t care,” Natalie snarled, steadying the rifle as much as she could. It didn’t matter what Shauna meant, you were never going to wake up again. “You took my best friend from me,” she narrowed her eyes, trying to calm her heart down.

‘Pull the fucking trigger!’ her heart demanded, yet her finger refused to squeeze it, to fire the shot. Once again she felt like that scared girl in that trailer, threatening to shoot her father. Nothing changed, even after shooting so many animals the thought of pulling the trigger here and now made her freeze in place.

“Nat,” Ben’s voice made her breath hitch as he stood up, stepping closer to her. “This isn’t what Y/N wants,” he said, using his crutches to reach her. Wants… Not wanted. Like you had any fucking chance of waking up now. Like there was any other way this would end.

You’d need a miracle, and she’s long since stopped believing in those.

Even if she did, you had to run out of luck eventually.

“It doesn’t matter what she wanted,” Natalie snapped, and it felt almost like something was telling her to do it, like the wind whistling outside the cabin was encouraging her, promising to swallow the sound of the gunshot. “Look! Look where wanting got her! None of this would have happened if she wasn’t in love with Jackie!” she yelled, seeing red as her blood boiled.

She heard Jackie gasping. And yet, instead of feeling guilty, a part of her felt pleased. “You heard me, Captain,” she spat the nickname out like it was poison that ate you alive. “Shauna pushed her, but don’t go sitting there like you didn’t cause this! You just had to cause drama because Shauna fucked Jeff!”

“Natalie, stop it,” Ben tried gently, placing his hand on her back. “This isn’t helping anyone,” no, it was helping her. It was about time she let it all out instead of letting them get away with this!

“Why? So they feel better? If you both wanted Jeff so badly, why did Y/N die for your fight?! Why, Jackie?!” she demanded while still pointing the rifle at Shauna, yet with each cry the rifle lowered, bit by bit, exhaustion and grief catching up with her.

“Jesus Christ,” one of the girls gasped, shocked and probably distraught.

“I,” Jackie whimpered and for the first time since she grabbed the rifle, Natalie looked at Jackie, seeing the crestfallen look on the girl’s face. She didn’t have the answer, of course. How could she? What could she possibly say to convince anyone that this wasn’t her fault.

“You don’t deserve her. All you’ve ever caused her was pain and now she’s gone,” her arms slumped, the rifle slipping through her fingers. It would have landed on the floor if Ben didn’t manage to catch it.

“I know,” Jackie whispered, all of her confidence, all of her entitlement gone from her voice.

“Good. Stay the fuck away from her then,” Natalie spat out, yet Jackie didn’t move, she still held on to you, like you were hers to hold. “Get away from Y/N, Jackie!” she shouted, turning completely to Jackie, anger morphing her face as she took a step closer, only for Travis to grab her by the waist before she could physically remove her from Y/N.

“Nat, please stop,” Travis pleaded as she struggled to get out of his hold.

“I told you! I kept begging you to stop being selfish, and you still kept choosing yourself, knowing Y/N would choose you every fucking time! This is as much on you as it is on Shauna! Even more!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, looking at your lifeless body, at the slow, barely visible rising of your chest acting as the only proof of life.

“I know! But I’m not leaving her! I’m not giving up on her,” Jackie argued back through tears, yet it only fueled Natalie’s rage. “Yell at me all you want, I’m not leaving her side,” she sobbed, dropping her forehead to your shoulder.

“Fuck you, Jackie,” Natalie snarled, finally breaking free from Travis and heading to the attic so she wouldn’t completely lose it.

~X~ JACKIE ~X~

‘It’s all my fault.’

Jackie kept her eyes closed, focusing on the sound of your breathing. Weak and slow, but still there. She felt you breathing, but the rest of you was painfully still.

‘It’s all my fault.’

There was nothing she could tell Natalie. Or anyone, really. She caused this, unintentionally, but she did. If she never wished for more, if she never acted on how comfortable and safe you made her feel, none of this would have happened. Maybe everything really was her fault.

Maybe what she felt for you, deep down, pushed Jeff to cheat on her. If she paid more attention to Shauna, if she was a better friend, if she didn’t keep that photo from her birthday framed in her room, giving one excuse or another for why the photo with you was framed and out in the open… maybe then none of this would have happened to you.

‘It’s all my fault.’

For a moment she thought your breathing changed, but it was just her mind and hunger playing tricks on her.

Her whole life was built around roles that were meant for her, so how could she be so stupid to think that she could separate from those without any consequences.

Footsteps caught her attention and she looked up, half-expecting someone to pull you away from her, to agree with Natalie and take matters into their own hands.

A part of Jackie doubted she’d fight back if they did. She wasn’t going to give up on you, ever, as long as you were breathing. Yet she couldn’t shake off that horrible feeling that she had no right to hold you.

Yet, when she looked up, she saw Javi, standing by your feet. The boy hadn’t spoken since Doomcoming, so Jackie really had no idea what to expect.

Nothing could have prepared her for Javi taking the goggles you gave him off and leaning forward to give them to her. “Here,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from not talking for so long, and she heard Travis and Natalie gasping when they heard his voice.

“Thanks,” Jackie nodded, too consumed by guilt and grief to feel any relief over Javi talking again. Even if it was only one word, but she did notice Travis looking relieved. ‘Good for him,’ she thought, both genuinely and bitterly, the two contradicting emotions clashing in the same reaction. She put the goggles around your neck, covering the heart necklace from view.

The same thought still lingered, loud and unavoidable and breaking her into countless pieces, never to be put together again if she lost you like this. ‘It’s all my fault.’

~X~ SHAUNA ~X~ January 5th, 1997 ~X~

She was at the lake again, on that damn ice. “Don’t do it!” she cried out, yet her body moved anyway, pushing you no matter how hard Shauna struggled to change the outcome, at least in the dream.

And then you looked at her, that same terrified expression once again flashing across your face.

Shauna woke up with a gasp, sitting up and clinging to her stomach, to the baby in her, the one thing that seemed to give her protection of any kind right now.

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold even though the blizzard was over. It hardly mattered, the cold lingered like the weight of the guilt she kept carrying.

She looked around, making sure everyone was asleep, even Jackie and Natalie. Especially Jackie. Shauna looked at you and Jackie, looking almost like you were merged together, that was how hard Jackie was clinging to you. She bit her lip, staring at the wet stains on Jackie’s cheeks.

Shauna doubted Jackie ever cried as much as she’s been crying since that day at the lake. And it made something vile and jealous squeeze Shauna’s heart yet again, that ugly feeling threatening to resurface.

Slowly, quietly, Shauna approached your still form. It looked so wrong, seeing you of all people completely still. You were always moving, always making it everyone else’s problem that you refused to rest properly. And now you were motionless, the shallow breathing serving as the only proof of life.

Damn, you were stubborn. For the first time since she met you, Shauna was grateful for that, because she wasn’t sure how to survive if you didn’t.

Fuck, she didn’t want your blood on her hands. And to think that one reckless, fury-driven moment might actually cause that. It was ridiculous and unfair. You survived everything, the Doomcoming, nearly drowning, the crash, so why did she have to be the one who you couldn’t survive?

Shauna hugged herself as she stared at you, noticing Jackie’s necklace around your neck, visible behind the glass of your goggles. And the more she looked at you, the more afraid she was. “I’m so sorry, please, just wake up,” she whispered, pleaded, begged, afraid of what would happen if you stopped breathing.

She’s had no peace since that day, even when she tried to ignore the guilt, even when she tried to excuse herself, at random moments the terror etched on your face would flash in front of Shauna’s eyes.

Maybe she could have ignored it if it was anyone else, but she looked at Jackie and her heart shattered. She wanted you out of Jackie’s life, but not like this. God, not like this.

“Please, just come back to her,” she whispered, and feeling like she was stepping too close to something she wasn’t allowed to be near, she went back to the corner of the cabin, settling down next to Melissa once more.

~X~ JACKIE ~X~

‘Please, just come back to her,’ she could have sworn she heard Shauna saying those words to you last night while she was asleep. Or rather drifting between half-conscious and restless sleep.

But that couldn’t be true.

That sounded too much like the Shauna she knew, too much like her Shauna and not whoever this new Shauna was. Not the wilderness Shauna. No, this new Shauna existed before that, and was the one who chose to sleep with Jeff, the one who would lie to Jackie’s face.

Or maybe Jackie was just lying to herself, trying to protect what little she could of those memories that were once precious to her. It barely worked.

She tried to move a bit, to make sure you were more comfortable, but she barely had the strength to move a bit further back against the wall. Her stomach didn’t even growl anymore. “Jackie, you have to drink,” Taissa came up to her with a mug filled with warm water.

She nodded, accepting just so she wouldn’t collapse as well. She took a few sips of water, hating that she could drink while you couldn’t. How much longer would your body be able to hold on without water? A day? Two? This was already the second day.

Van slowly approached as well, bringing the cleanest cloth and mug they had available. “Here, Akilah did everything she could to get it as clean as possible,” she muttered, struggling to look at you.

“Thanks, both of you,” Jackie said softly, dampening the cloth and twisting her body a bit so she could dab your lips with the damp cloth. Gently she tilted your head back and opened your mouth, careful not to hurt you as she followed Misty’s instructions. When she was done, she hugged you, clinging to you so she wouldn’t fall apart.

You still didn’t react, not even a bit, but you kept breathing.

A cracking sound made her flinch. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing and began frantically looking around. “What was that?!” Melissa cried out, stepping closer to Shauna.

“Maybe a bird hit the cabin?” Mari guessed, though judging by the crack in her voice she didn’t quite believe that. And then there was another crack, louder, like wood was splitting open.

“It’s the snow! It’s too heavy!” Misty realized before anyone else could voice it, just as another crack made everyone jump.

Jackie’s heart hammered in her chest as she looked at you. Natalie rushed to your side, not even caring that Jackie was there. “We got to get out! Help me move Y/N!” she yelled, but no one moved.

“How are we going to get out?! All the doors and windows are blocked by snow!” Taissa yelled back, looking around in panic.

“Lottie! What’s going on? Is the Wilderness angry with us?” Van questioned, turning to Lottie who remained eerily calm despite the cracking continuing.

“It chooses,” Lottie said, like she was fine with whatever would happen.

“Well, what did It choose?!” Mari demanded.

“Does it even matter? We’re not making it out of here,” Britt spoke up for the first time, at least that Jackie was aware of, in two, maybe three days. The girl had been sitting in the corner, almost as unresponsive as you, only she was conscious.

“Don’t talk like that!” Robin berated her through tears.

“Please, not like this. God, please,” Akilah curled up on the floor, and Jackie finally noticed just how many people tried to be as small as physically possible, covering their heads while the cabin kept cracking under the weight of the snow.

Jackie looked at you again and pulled you closer, protecting your head with her body no matter how ridiculous and futile that would be if the roof fell on them.

The loudest crack yet resounded through the cabin and then there was a loud crash and the doors to the small bedroom snapped open, flying off the hinges as snow spilled into the cabin. Travis moved just in time, shielding Javi and taking the hit in the back.

Several girls screamed, some collapsed, others watched the ceiling like they waited for it too to collapse. But all they heard was snow sliding down from the bent roof.

Jackie felt lightheaded, her world spinning yet again, the dull buzzing in her ears temporarily became the only sound she was aware of.

Seconds felt like hours, yet they didn’t hear any new cracks, they only felt the cold, the merciless wind weakening the fire. But nothing collapsed on top of them.

“Is,” Shauna spoke up first. “Is it over?” she asked after excruciatingly long minute.

Lottie nodded, and just like that most of the girls turned to her, looking for a steady, calming presence. And Lottie gave it to them, either she was completely detached, or she felt like things would be fine, either way, on the surface those two things looked exactly the same to everyone else.

“Travis, are you okay?” Natalie rushed to Travis’ side, lifting his shirt and checking the spot where he was hit. “Does this hurt?” she asked, touching his lower back.

Travis winced a bit. “It’s just going to bruise, I think,” he said, reaching back to touch his aching back.

“Thanks,” Javi whispered, hugging him and immediately it looked like Travis’ pain vanished.

“As long as you’re safe,” he said gently, ruffling his brother’s hair.

Natalie let out a sigh of relief and then turned to the snow that spilled into the cabin. “We survived that, but we really need to take care of that,” she said, pointing at the snow.

“There’s no point, though,” Britt muttered even as Gen and Crystal went to get the shovels from the attic.

“Uh, guys, bad news,” Gen called out from the top of the ladder. “We lost the attic.”

The entire cabin went still, in one cruel instance the cabin that never even felt safe to begin with, just got more cramped and more difficult to warm up.

~X~ NATALIE ~X~ January 6th, 1997 ~X~

Her entire body ached, every muscle, every fiber of her being, screamed, begging for rest and any food as she lay on her blanket. Travis was behind her, spooning her, trying to keep her warm after last night. It helped a bit, comforted her, if nothing else. It didn’t fix the hunger and exhaustion.

Natalie looked to the side, barely turning her head to look at you. Your chest rose and fell under the blankets, still stubbornly clinging to life.

Travis, Javi and Ben put the door back on the hinges; and nailed it shut just to make sure it wouldn’t fall again so easily. Meanwhile, most of them, aside from Shauna, Jackie and, obviously you, began shoveling the snow away from the cabin, terrified of leaving the task until morning. So, regardless of how sluggish their movements were, regardless of how numb they all were, they kept going out in groups of three, two shoveling snow, one holding a lantern.

It took them so long, so damn long to get rid of the snow, at least on the porch. No one dared to step on the roof, fearing it would collapse under their feet. Yet they still slept, aware that staying awake wouldn’t change anything.

It was so cold not even the sunlight coming through the window helped. The fire felt useless, hours of shoveling, even split between them, let the cold enter their bodies down to the bones.

Natalie blinked a few times, looking at you. How were you even alive after all that? When she felt like dying might just be the easiest thing to do now. What even was the point anymore? The rescue wasn’t going to come. The winter was only getting worse. There was no food, nothing to sustain them.

“We’re going to die here,” she muttered, barely loud enough for Travis to hear her.

He didn’t argue, he just held her a bit tighter.

“Britt? Where are you going?” Robin suddenly asked, she sounded sleepy. Natalie didn’t pay attention to it, she didn’t pay attention to rummaging through a backpack either. If Britt had the energy to do anything, all the power to her.

“Come back here, it’s cold without you,” Robin whined, and then there was rustling of clothes, then it sounded like a jacket was dropped onto the floor.

“What’s she doing?” she heard Van asking as some lighter fabric hit the floor, and Natalie heard someone else reluctantly sitting up.

“Britt! Stop!” Mari tried to get up and instead stumbled forward a bit, catching herself on her hands and knees. “Stop!” she cred out, and Natalie finally sat up enough to look behind Travis and see what the fuss was all about.

She did it just in time to see Britt unzipping her jeans and stepping out of them. The path of layers of clothing from your backpack to the doors made Natalie’s blood run cold. “Holy shit, what the fuck are you doing?” she tried to get up, but got dizzy instead.

Britt actually chuckled, and then, chillingly, it turned into full blown laughter. Resigned, empty, laughter as she swayed, reaching the doors, barefooted and wearing nothing but her underwear. “It wants blood, doesn’t it?” she asked.

“Drop the gun!” Taissa cried out, scrambling to get out of the blankets with Van.

Natalie’s heart skipped a beat as she realized Britt was holding the revolver, still loaded with bullets.

Mari and Robin stumbled to their feet, rushing outside after Britt, begging, pleading for her to stop. Natalie got up, leaning most of her weight on Travis as he helped her go after Britt as well.

“Talk to us, please!” Shauna cried out.

“Lottie! Do something!” Melissa pleaded, turning to Lottie.

Lottie stumbled through the snow, following Mari and Robin, just as frantic as the others to stop this before it was too late.

But there was no stopping this. “Bye,” Britt said, turning to face them, and then she raised the gun.

The gunshot echoed throughout the forest. Britt’s body fell onto the snow, red staining it as Mari and Robin stepped back in horror, feeling the warmth of drops of blood on their skin.

Natalie stood there, trembling in Travis’ arms. She didn’t even have it in her to scream. And judging by how the others simply collapsed to their knees or fell back, unable to keep standing, judging by the silence all around them, no one had strength to react in any other way.

In one week this place had broken them more than it did in months. Abruptly, without any warning, turning them into nothing but shells, too hollowed out to even grieve a teammate.

A/N: Well... tell me what you thought about this chapter. 

🗡when rhiannon gets jealous, more often than not, she gets turned on. really, really turned on. after all, it gives her such a rush to know that people can look at you all they want, but no one will ever be able to have you, to fuck you, like her.

🗡if she notices someone flirting with you while you're out at the bar, she will be dragging you home, desperate to have you all to herself (but not before she approaches the two of you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek while asking, "babe, who's this?")

🗡sometimes, if the bar is too far or she's feeling especially needy, she'll drag you into the nearest alleyway then and there. you have your reservations, but when she's two fingers deep inside of you whispering that she'll kill anyone who sees the two of you, your inhibitions fly out the window.

🗡whether she's dominant or not depends on the day. some days, she wants to bury her fingers deep inside of you, making you cry out her name until she's wrung multiple orgasms out of you. it gives her such a rush, knowing that you give in so easily and so willingly, all because you're hers. but some days, all she wants is for you to get her off. whether it's guiding your hands to her (absolutely dripping) panties, riding your face, or bouncing on your strap, she needs you to make her cum, and you're more than happy to oblige.

🗡she'll force you to look into her eyes, her grip on your chin tightening and wrenching your face up to look at her if you dare to break eye contact for even a second. "look at me", she growls, bottom lip between her teeth as you bring her closer to the edge. she wants - no, needs - you to see her, because you're the only one who can. you see her.

🗡aftercare with her after jealous sex is always so soft, pressing soft kisses to her forehead as the two of you lie in bed panting. you reassure her that you're hers, forever and always, and you can see the way a smile forms on her face at your words.

Such a bad kisser but learns quickly. She’s just so enthusiastic about it, so eager to please, that she ends up all over the place. Bumps your nose hard enough at some point that your eyes tear up, and Rhiannon’s just watching in utter horror. As she gets more confident, it turns into this almost creepy intensity as she watches you closely for any and all signs of feedback.

Needs to leave marks all over you. Even if they aren’t strictly visible if you’re fully dressed, she knows they’re there. The same goes for wanting you to leave marks. She likes to press her fingers into them and feel how the bruise still stings whenever she feels particularly lonely or invisible. You see her, after all, even when it feels like no one else does.

Early days Rhiannon fluctuates between being a little too loud and a little too quiet as she becomes aware of it, trying to figure out what you like the best. Realizes how quiet she's being and starts adding in exaggerated moans, but they sound too forced, and she starts getting self-conscious. Then she tries quieting herself down by biting at her lip until she starts to worry she’s too quiet, cheeks flushed as she realizes you’ve noticed. Back-and-forth until she just can't think straight enough to care. 

Kind of loud once she finally lets go. Rhiannon enjoys having your attention on her and enjoys the way you react when she moans or makes a sound a little too breathy. She gets more vocal the more she realizes you like hearing her, loving the way it keeps your attention solely on her. Very quickly realizes how much attention being whiny gets her and is quick to jump on it.

Loves to talk to you during or be talked through it. She wants you to tell her exactly what you like, but is just a little too shy to ask for it. Every time she asks, “Is this good? Do you like this?” there’s a tremor of excitement in her voice that she can’t quite hide. It’s charming how much she wants to get it exactly right for you. Equally embarrassed and determined, cheeks flushed as you give her little cues.

Poor girl needs praise to live. Even when you aren’t verbally saying anything, her eyes keep flicking up to yours, looking for any sign of approval on your face. She’s so attuned to every little reaction; even the quietest sigh is carefully cataloged. The simplest acknowledgement, even just a “you’re doing so well,” is enough to have her practically melting.

She can barely stand to meet your eyes when you tell her she looks pretty, or that she’s doing good, or if you call her yours. Face flushing and breath hitching as she leans into the words, bashfully turning her head to the side. Rhiannon can’t bring herself to outright ask for it, but she’s so obviously fishing for it sometimes that she might as well have. She’ll do something she knows you’ve praised her for before and just bite her lip, almost as if she’s waiting for it. Head tilted slightly to the side like she’s waiting for a treat.

It makes her bolder, knowing that she has your validation. She just soaks it up, pressing in even closer to you. Rhiannon starts to mirror you, throwing them back to see how you react to it. The words are more possessive coming from her; she always calls you hers, her voice almost shaky with excitement. Hearts racing so hard she can barely get the words out, but she loves the rush it gives her even if it’s just a whisper.

Such a big fan of wandering hands, but they can never really get all that explicit when it comes to her–she’s just too reactive for it. Rhiannon will touch you all night long, tracing her fingers along your palms, up your arms, hips, and shoulders. But they never venture very far unless you're alone. 

Putting your hand on her knee and stroking the inside of it with your thumb is enough to have her squirming for the rest of the night until you take her home, eyes flicking back and forth as if daring you to go further but knowing she can barely even handle what she’s got. The combination of being seen and desired is the most important part for her. The anticipation keeps her on edge, the slightest shifting of your weight as you sit has her breath quickening.

Acts like she's walking to the gallows every time she tentatively brings up something new. She's asking how you feel about minor role play, like she expects you to call her a deviant freak for it. Acting like it’s a complete hypothetical, but her nervous anticipation is so painfully obvious. The moment you’re even a little receptive to it, she starts to relax, but getting the full idea from her is like pulling teeth.

Rhiannon likes when you pretend to be strangers, like you’re picking her up at a bar for the first time. You’re the only person she feels confident enough with to be able to flirt like that, and she really likes the idea of it. She never really had much of that kind of experience, and she loves the thrill of it. There’s also something else, just beneath the surface for her. Something a little darker that she doesn’t quite mention, but you can see in the way she looks at you. (definitely doesn't fantasize about killing you a little bit.)