She had died. She had died in a fireball, right in front of Lottie's eyes. That was the last time she thought she'd ever feel love.
She regretted everything. It was hard enough to watch Laura Lee die, right when she'd really started to know her, but it was worse to know that she'd never know all the ways Lottie felt about her. Lottie would never be able to kiss her - never be able to tell her how much she loved her. She'd never know how much Lottie looked up to her, how brave she thought she was for doing everything she did. Maybe it never would've worked out the way Lottie wanted it to, but she couldn't shake the feeling Laura Lee felt the same. She wasn't - hadn't been the person Lottie thought she was before the crash. She was funny, and kind, and witty in ways she'd never have known about. She was gone.
When Laura Lee died, she left Lottie alone with the Wilderness. It used to be them three, understanding each other in a way none of the other Yellowjackets could ever know. The Wilderness was all Lottie could turn to, after that, the only one who would really reveal their true self to her. It didn't matter what the others thought; Lottie would never let them separate her from her gods, and she realized that what she was seeing, what she was communicating with, was not Him, God. When she'd tried praying, all she could picture was blonde hair and kind blue eyes. Maybe that was just it - after all, the Israelites hadn't realized who Jesus truly was until he was gone. Without Laura Lee's gentle tutelage and touch, she'd never have been connected to the Wilderness, and without Jesus, the people of earth never would've been connected to God in such a way.
It all made sense, but this was not Laura Lee's merciful God. The Wilderness was in everything - it was the trees, the dirt, the wind, it was even Lottie, to a certain degree - and the Wilderness was not a kind lover. The Wilderness made Lottie its submissive, made her its bitch. But without her, it would've claimed them all long ago. It all made too much sense. The Wilderness wanted blood, and it would trade only in the most precious commodity - human life. In exchange for Laura Lee's lifeblood, they had been gifted the bear. These trades it made were only the most unfair, the cruelest punishments imaginable wrapped in the lingerie of a reprieve from the suffering, the constant hunger.
The Wilderness had taken Jackie's spirit, and in return they got another chance at life in this snowy hellscape.
Shauna didn't understand. She thought she'd caused Jackie's death, but she was wrong. Lottie so desperately wanted to be able to convey that to her, to help her. I was there too, I felt the exact same feelings you do. The Wilderness took my love, too. It was no use. It was beyond no use - Shauna feared her now, hated her. Lottie knew this, but she had to get close to her anyway. The baby would please the Wilderness beyond imagining. He would be a gift that it hadn't even asked for. Lottie would be able to spin it that way, she was sure - look, this baby it yours. He is a living symbol that we have not been wasting the life you've given us. The baby would finally make the Wilderness understand how much they needed, and surely it would have mercy on their tainted souls. Surely it would not soil the child the way it had soiled them.
When she and Natalie had undertaken that hunting challenge, Lottie had once and for all realized the nature of the sacrifices her lovers demanded. When she sliced her palm, no food had been delivered to them, but she had seen. Knowledge had been delivered to her in a form she never would've expected.
Laura Lee had been there, as a manifestation of the Wilderness. She hadn't really been there, but Lottie could recognize her essence, a hint of the true form within the false form. She had been so beautiful. She glowed with the same light and love she had in her living days. Most importantly, she'd treated Lottie with the same love, as if no time at all had passed. As if Lottie hadn't been corrupted beyond the wildest imaginings of someone untouched by It. Laura Lee had given her food, had allowed her to be saved, had shown Lottie that she never would die, at least not by Its hand. In the days that followed, she would come to understand that Laura Lee was the form the Wilderness' love for her took. They were one. She was not really gone, for they were one.
That meant that, most likely, Jackie had been absorbed into that melange, too, but it would be impossible for Shauna to understand that. She thought Lottie was trying to take her baby. None of them understood how, in this land, they were all one. It was in them. As it took, and took, and took, they would be reunited in the primordial soup of souls that she used to so ignorantly call the Wilderness. They did not understand that, in taking, it was giving. Taking from the living to give to the dead.
When Shauna's baby boy passed, Lottie knew it was too late for her to offer any comfort with her words. She had tried, the only way she knew how, to save his life, but It wanted more than just blood. It was a relief when he was taken, because she knew that it would be the exigence for their survival, but she also knew that in the end it mattered not whether they were alive or dead. After that realization, after the appartition of her love revealed itself, It had begun to leave her alone. She'd undertaken the final realization, and there was nothing more to learn. To give Shauna Shipman that wisdom was beyond impossible, so Lottie gave the only other thing she could - her body.
Never in a million years would she fault Shauna for what she did. In the wilderness, pain and pleasure were one and the same. If she died, she would be reunited with all who came before her. It would never be that simple - she knew It would not take her. She knew when she was reunited with them, with Laura Lee, it would be in an incomprehensible form. When Shauna ravaged her face, it was only the manifestation of It in its cruel form, but the cruelty was always the crux for a gift.
It was a crying shame Javi had to die. Lottie felt terrible for Travis. He had been so sympathetic towards her, and willing to learn. He hadn't understood in the same way she and Laura Lee had, because no one ever would, but it seemed like he hoped he could, someday. Despite all the tragedy, it seemed like he was at peace with it all. Lottie still watched him closely, just to make sure he'd be alright. She knew they all would, but it was so frustrating that the others didn't.
She loved him, of course - he was one of them, those connected by the same horrible red string of fate, but he was Natalie's. Maybe in another life she'd have worried he thought she was coming onto him, but this situation was different. He and Natalie fought, as any two lovers did (not her and Laura Lee, but their bond was different), but they were still in love, she was sure. What could have disturbed their relationship to the point of breaking?
And then there was Natalie. She pushed and pushed and pushed Lottie away, but they all did. Lottie loved her still - she would never stop loving her. She knew how damaged Natalie was, though it felt so crass to describe her that way, and she knew she needed care Travis couldn't give her. Maybe after enough time studying with Lottie, he'd be able to. Maybe that was the goal all along. Deep down Lottie knew Nat was someone special. She was so pure and untarnished. She shined, in a way like Laura Lee had shined, but she lacked the understanding. She thought Lottie was trying to hurt people by acting as Its conduit.
Maybe if Lottie wasn't It, she would've loved her back. It was so cruel, in all the ways It always was, that it had to be her, and the only other person it had been was dead and gone. Even so, Lottie could tell Nat still cared for some part of her. It was the part that was long gone, probably. The girl who'd shoplifted stupid clothes from the mall and shared smokes with her. It was so cruel that Lottie had changed, and Nat had not. It was because Nat was so perfect, not because she understood, that she took care of Lottie in the ways she did. When she'd stripped her naked and bathed her, cleaned her wounds, stared up at her with gleaming wonder in her eyes, it had all been because of her utter innocence, not because of anything Lottie'd done to deserve it.
Twenty-five years later, things were taking a terrible turn. Of course Travis never could've communicated with It, because he'd never understood, but she'd still pressed that button. Then Laura Lee had come to her, but she was corrupted. It was all falling apart. Doubtless she'd strayed too far from Its orbit, and It was not happy to be suppressed. She had betrayed her one true love, they were seeking revenge, and she understood why they would be. But in all the chaos, she knew there was one person who wouldn't have changed.
It was heartbreaking to see Natalie try to take her own life. Lottie knew after that she'd never let her leave her watchful eye. Of course Nat still wanted nothing to do with her - Lottie was too far gone. She always had been. Nevertheless, she poured her love and admiration into her, same as she would anyone in her community. Natalie thrashed and cursed at her and tried to overthrow her peaceful commune, but truly it was only because she was doing what she thought was right. If anything, Lottie loved her even more for it. She would be pure until the very end.
When Nat finally, impossibly started to trust her, she was so overwhelmed by happiness she couldn't even see the consequences of her actions. Nat had let her talk to her, dance with her, touch her, do everything she'd wanted to for the longest time. Nat never would change who she was for her, and Lottie knew that she really, truly believed she could take refuge with her. It was the most glorious transformation - Lottie gladly would've run through the fire if it meant Nat could finally get better, and now they were taking that journey together. It was a joy and a sense of love she hadn't felt since that autumn day twenty-fire years prior, when It would merge its terrible self with that beautiful blonde girl and force her to love it.
To her horror, Lottie realized too late what she'd done. She'd sinned, committed adultery against the very god she owed her whole existence to. She tried, after, to make amends by staging Its favorite thing, a hunt. When Shauna had pulled the queen, it was such a relief; a shame she'd have to go so soon, but at least she could be reunited with Jackie and her baby. What she couldn't see, though, was that It wanted only one soul. When Misty drove that needle into Nat's shoulder, Lottie did not fault her for it. She did not blame her for it. She knew she'd only been a conduit for Its will, like Lottie herself had been for so long.
They loaded her up onto that ambulance; they took her to the psych ward, and all Lottie could do was hope that when It took her, it would come in the form of a kind-hearted girl with a gold cross necklace, and not a white-robed figure with a crown of deer antlers.