Shauna hovers behind Hannah. Melissa keeps her eyes fixed on the ground—if she looks at Shauna now, she won’t be able to hide the anger, the disappointment. The embarrassment of feeling any of it. All things Shauna has never had to see in her eyes before. The terms of this relationship were set weeks ago and there was no space in them for this.
She grits her teeth as Hannah finishes cleaning around the exit wound, deciding to focus on that hurt instead. It anchors her.
"I’m going to cover the wounds now, alright?"
Mel nods. She’s made it this far without crying—through an arrow, through being left behind, through waiting for hours for Shauna to come back, and then through pushing the damn thing out the other side; she won’t start crying now, not just because an older woman is taking care of her and speaking gently.
"While I do this, one of you make a sling," Hannah says, unwinding a roll of bandages from the kit. "We need to immobilize the arm."
A firm—"Mari."
Mari leaves her side at Shauna’s silent command. Mel can’t help it now. She looks up.
Shauna meets her eyes, gaze sweeping over her, and lips curling a little. "I knew you wouldn’t die."
Mel drops her gaze before she does something stupid. She kind of wants to scream. But she doesn’t scream at Shauna. That’s not what they do.
"We got it covered, Shauna, you don’t have to stay," Gen says. Voice flat, eyes on Mel instead of who she’s speaking to. "But you already know that, right?"
Hannah’s gaze flickers between the three of them, quick, taking stock of whatever is happening here. She lands on Mel, considering, before turning back to her work. "It is a bit crowded."
A thankful Mel takes the out. "I’ll be fine," she says, nodding at Shauna.
A beat, then Shauna leaves without argument. On her way out, she brushes her fingers against Mel’s good shoulder, light enough that it could almost be nothing. Mel still reaches up, taps her hand before she’s gone, on reflex.
Mari is back a second later, pressing cloths into Hannah’s hands for the makeshift sling, and then she’s called away by Nat.
The next five minutes are filled with the rough sounds of fabric tearing, and quiet curses as they try to get the knots right.
"Was that your girlfriend?" Hannah asks.
Mel hesitates. "Yeah, I guess."
The woman hums, nods. "She’s… impressive."
Mel huffs a quiet laugh. That’s definitely code for scary.
"How old are you?"
"I think eighteen now," Gen answers for them.
Hannah looks up from the two pieces of fabric she’s tying together, her eyebrows shooting up. "God, you’re kids."
Mel lets out a slow breath. "Yeah, I guess," she repeats.
Hannah’s making it very hard to keep from crying right now. She latches onto the pain in her shoulder again, lets it swallow her as Gen and Hannah work the sling on her. They tighten it and it hurts like hell.
Hannah winces in sympathy as Gen brushes hair away from her forehead.
"You’ll need to change these bandages—" she falters mid-sentence, when she sees Nat, Mari and Misty carry her friend’s body away. The air shifts. "Everyday."
Mel swallows against the shame and the guilt rising in her throat.
"I’m sorry," she says, voice small. "Uh, for your loss."
Hannah nods. She doesn’t look like it’s sunk in yet. She probably won’t be as nice once it does. It makes Mel preemptively sad.
Gen exhales, glancing at Hannah one last time before turning to Mel. "Come on," she says, helping her up, carefully.
She walks Mel to their shared hut and helps her sit down. She’s making a fuss. It tugs at Mel’s heart a little. It feels like more than she deserves from her.
"I can’t believe they had no painkillers in that kit," Mel mutters, still scowling like she might march back and demand some out of thin air.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
"It doesn’t hurt a little."
Gen snorts, but the amusement doesn’t last long. She watches Mel shift, uncomfortable, and her voice softens. "You should get some sleep."
Mel lets her eyes slip closed. "Trust me, I want to."
"I’ll stay with you until you do."
The words settle over her like a warm blanket. The final push. A small sob breaks out of her.
Everything rushes back to the surface. The arrow. Getting left. Shauna.
Mel’s always played her part; loyal, steady. Present. And Shauna protects her. Makes her untouchable. That’s the deal. That’s what they are. What’s fucking embarrassing, is she can’t tell whether Shauna broke the rules to chase after something that matters more or if there were never any rules at all; just Shauna taking what she wants and Mel deluding herself into thinking she was something worth keeping.
What’s even more embarrassing is she knows, deep down, Shauna would have never stayed—that’s who she is, and that’s who Mel fell for.
"I feel so stupid," she says when Gen turns to her, expression worried.
Gen doesn’t ask. Doesn’t have to.
"Shauna?"
"Yeah. She fucking left. She doesn’t care about me."
Gen is quiet for a second, then, "In her defense—god, what am I saying." She shakes her head, exhaling sharply. "Fuck it. In her defense, she did threaten Mari’s life if she let you die."
Mel must look fucking pathetic is Gen is defending Shauna.
"She threatens Mari’s life, like, everyday," Mel says, sniffling back snot. "It doesn’t mean anything."
"So the thought of her bashing that guy’s head in for what he did to you doesn’t turn you on at all, then, you little freak?"
Mel snorts, for Gen’s sake. For her efforts at cheering her up. "I’d rather she had stayed," she says. Then, softer; "You stayed."
"Yeah, I wouldn’t have left."
"Thank you." A tear runs down her temple. She wipes it with her good hand, forces a smile like that’ll make up for it. "You’re my best friend," she says.
They don’t really do that mushy shit that Britt and Robin do, or that Shauna and Jackie did—exchanging friendship bracelets or whatever. Claiming each other loudly. They’ve been best friends for years and it’s always gone unsaid. The truest things always are.
But it feels wrong to keep that up, now.
Gen watches her, expression unreadable, then shifts forward, slow enough to give Mel time to move away. She doesn’t.
It’s just a kiss, almost close-mouthed, almost chaste. It could mean anything. It could mean two different things to both of them.
The warmth is overwhelming. When Gen pulls away, Mel’s eyes take too long to flutter open, her body finally surrendering to sleep.
When she wakes, it’s to a dull, insistent throb in her arm and shoulder, tugging her back to the surface. The hut is empty, Gen must have slipped out. The sun has dipped lower in the sky.
Mel pushes herself up with a hiss. The camp hums in the distance. She steps outside before she really thinks about it, before she decides if she wants to be around anyone at all.
Shauna’s perched just outside the hut, reading one of the same dog-eared books she’s carried with her since the crash, that Mel knows she’s finished a dozen time already since they've been here.
Mel considers avoiding her, but Shauna lifts her head before she can move, her gaze locking onto Mel like she’s been waiting.
"Is your arm OK?" Shauna asks.
Mel shifts her weight. "Yeah, it’s fine."
Shauna nods once—like that’s settled. Then flips the book shut, sets it down. "Good. We’ll find that asshole, I promise. Make him fucking pay."
The pain must be making her cranky. "Cool," she mutters. Sarcastic. "Can’t fucking wait."
Shauna furrows her brows. Studies her. "What?"
"Nothing."
"I thought we were honest with each other."
(It's one of the unspoken terms; they're honest with themselves, and each other, unlike the others. The last part isn't relevant anymore, and the second might have never been.)
Mel forces herself to hold her gaze. "We are."
"Then speak your mind, Melissa."
She says her name like a challenge. Asks her to be honest like she has no idea why Mel would be short with her. Something burns in Mel’s chest. She presses her lips together.
Fine. She’ll speak her mind.
"I asked you not to leave me."
Shauna holds her gaze like she knew this was coming.
"Let’s go somewhere private," she just says, grabbing Mel’s good arm and leading her toward the woods.
Mel follows with a locked jaw. Shauna’s grip on her arm is firm but not rough, like she thinks Mel might pull away, even though Mel never has.
She wonders if this is how Shauna felt with Jackie. If she was happy to follow until one day she wasn’t. If she had spent years thinking her honesty meant something, only to realize too late it was built on a foundation of half-truths—things she was comfortable saying, that were conveniently what Jackie wanted to hear. Until half-truths turned into lies and betrayals.
Shauna stops them once they’re far enough from the village. Her grip on Mel’s arm loosens, and her hand traces it up to her shoulder, then her neck, leaving her hand there. She leans down to plant a faint kiss on Mel’s hurt shoulder.
Shauna locks her eyes onto Mel’s. "I told you I knew you wouldn’t die."
"Well, I didn’t know," Mel says, not willing to be more vulnerable.
Shauna immediately ruins her plans. "I’m sorry."
It catches her off guard. Shauna doesn’t apologize, like, as a rule. Mel planned on Shauna not apologizing, like she doesn't with everybody else. Whatever vulnerability she sometimes lets Mel see, remorse is never a part of it. And now it is?
That pisses her off.
"Do you even care about me? At all?" Mel says anyway.
Shauna leans in, but Mel turns her head. So she kisses her cheek, once, twice. Fuck.
"You know I do."
Mel wants to push at Shauna’s limits until she breaks. Until she’s mean and angry. Until Mel has a reason to be as mad as she feels, and she’s not stupid anymore for expecting something Shauna’s never promised her.
Mel scoffs. "I don’t, actually."
"Well, now you do." A small hint of frustration. Good.
"Then say it," she pushes again.
"I just did," Shauna snaps. But she stops there. Her hand is still on Mel’s neck, her thumb pressing a little on accident, then relaxing.
Mel’s out of options, so, she punches Shauna.
Not very hard—she had to use her left fist, and her shoulder limited her momentum. It must not have hurt a lot. But it felt good.
Shauna steps back, one step, the hand that was on Mel’s neck flying up to feel her jaw. She rubs it lightly, eyes wide, surprised. Her gaze hardens as she looks at Mel, like she’s trying to decide what to do next.
Mel watches her, heart racing.
Without warning, she shoves Mel. Both hands slam into her shoulders, and Mel can’t stop the cry that escapes her as she hits the ground, the impact rattling through her nerves. Before she can recover, Shauna’s on top of her, straddling her waist, pinning her to the dirt.
One hand grabs Mel’s free arm, locking it to the ground, while the other comes up to her neck.
She does it slowly enough that Mel can fight back, kicking her knee into Shauna’s side. Shauna’s grip loosens just so that Mel manages to wrench her hand free long enough to slam into Shauna’s chest and shoulders multiple times.
Then Shauna takes back control, her legs locking Mel’s in place, hand doing the same. The other on Mel’s neck tightens a little, a signal for her to stop fighting.
Time freezes. The world goes silent, except for the sound of their breaths.
Shauna's hair curtains her face, so she can't look anywhere else, not that she would want to. Her eyes drift down a little, and Shauna catches it.
Shauna leans down to kiss her lips—Mel doesn’t turn away this time. She leans up into it, ever-so-slightly, but doesn't move her lips. Her last thread of resistance.
"I do care about you," she whispers, leaning down to kiss her again. "Kiss me back."
"No," Mel says. High on defiance, maybe. Rewriting the terms, hopefully.
So Shauna lets go of her wrist, and her neck, now holding herself up with both forearms, and she dips her head to give Mel warm kisses on her cheek again, and to whisper, "I knew you wouldn’t die."
Mel shifts under her, accidentally rubbing against Shauna’s center in the process, who freezes in her kisses, then pulls back just enough to look at her—eyes dark. Mel’s certain she’s sporting a similar look.
Without a word, Shauna relents her lock on Mel’s legs, shifting their position until Mel is on top, doing the straddling. She does it carefully, making sure Mel’s injured shoulder isn’t strained, her hands guiding her gently into place.
Mel is the one to lean down this time, shifting until her good arm supports her body so that it doesn’t pull at her shoulder, while Shauna’s hands find her ass, moving her until the friction feels good for both of them. In this position, it takes a while.
When Mel comes first, Shauna sits back up, taking advantage of her state to kiss her. Mel lets her, tired of fighting what she craves. She kisses Shauna back languidly as her hand finishes her, over her pants. She doesn't trust her left hand to work with more precision than that.
She doesn’t know how long they stay in the woods, Mel on Shauna’s lap, making out. When she becomes aware of her surroundings again, it’s night.
She rests her forehead against Shauna’s, contemplating other truths she could tell her, what they would get her. More consideration? More respect?
She could tell Shauna she kissed Gen, but Shauna’s so unpredictable, she could either attack Gen or just not give a shit and both options fucking suck.
There’s truths from Shauna that Mel isn’t ready to face.