Something changes after the trial. Tai can feel it after less than a day—it’s not subtle, like the slow turn of the wind before a storm, but immediate, pressing, settling into their minds, heavy enough to matter. Someone just has to be the first to say it.
The existence they’ve carved out together doesn’t sit the same. There’s weight in the air again. Stakes. Consequences. The kind that remind them that all of this – the warmth, the shelters, the food – was never enough to make them safe from the real danger of this place, that doesn't always come from outside.
It’s clear that Nat can’t handle what’s coming. Doubt has settled over the group; it’s creeping at the edges, thin as smoke, but it’s there: quiet but undeniable. So when Tai wants to discuss Ben’s punishment, she goes to someone who can. She goes to Shauna.
It surprises her how instinctual this feels, the idea of the two of them as a team still, after everything, after Shauna pushed everyone away, even her. But Shauna is so different, Tai isn’t sure that, to her, this still means what it used to. Not that Tai had been much of a teammate; she hadn’t stood with Shauna so much as held her up, turning her grief into an argument to win her case. Maybe the Shauna she knew months ago would have hated her. This Shauna is harder to rattle.
(She thought they’d drifted apart after the fire, when they’d all agreed that Shauna had just become more guarded, until snow melted and days turned into weeks and checking up on her was this unappreciated, futile, draining chore and Van saying leave her alone right now, give her time started to feel like a relief, and by then Shauna was already unapproachable.
She had trouble reconciling Shauna her friend with this Shauna; empathy became scarce, and then it was so much easier to worry about one less psyche. Easier to stop trying and let the distance Shauna clearly wanted settle between them like they’d never been so fucking close that they’d trusted each other with their darkest corners.
Another thing the trial changed: Tai isn’t satisfied that distance anymore. And while the wilderness has worn down so many soft instincts, she felt a sharp tug inside her watching Ben adressing Shauna from the stand for what she is—a girl.
And he doesn’t know about the attempted abortion, and Shauna crying in her arms, changing her mind.
Watching over Tai when she slept. Supporting her. More memories flood in. Pretending Jackie’s alive. Shame at getting caught. Cutting Javi blindfolded. Can’t you hear him crying? Why can’t you hear him crying?
Here’s her answer: Tai lost Shauna before there ever was a fire.)
But it wouldn’t surprise her if Shauna was looking past Tai already—she spoke today, and everyone listened. Tai won the trial, because Shauna got the votes. Her fingers curl loosely into her palms.
She decides to hold off on talks of sentencing, for now.
She finds Shauna in her hut. Tai sits in front of her without asking, and Shauna lets her. Their eyes meet. For a minute Tai doesn’t feel the need for words and neither does Shauna. In this moment in time, they’re friends again. So Tai talks to her like that, and she’s been meaning to ask about something only a friend could. An almost imperceptible smirk tugs at her lips.
"I saw JV going into your hut the other night," she says, maybe hoping this will rattle her, if only a little.
Shauna doesn’t bite.
"Melissa?" Shauna says her name like she has something to prove (which she does). "Not JV anymore."
"Hm. Clearly not." Shauna scoffs, makes Tai smile wider. "I was surprised, to be honest. And not just that it’s Melissa. Van was always saying how we can’t be the only ones. She’s gonna be insufferable."
Shauna gives her a look, and Tai thinks maybe she got ahead of herself; maybe Shauna still has some part of her that hesitates. That doesn’t want everyone knowing.
It’s weird to wish for this. But it would mean that Shauna hasn’t let go of everything.
The thought dies before it can settle: "It’s not like you guys," Shauna says, simply.
A beat, a nod. "OK," she just says. She hopes it sounds understanding. "What’s it like?"
Shauna just keeps looking at her, lifts her eyebrows and the corners of her mouth, not quite a smile—and it could mean absolutely anything.
In fact, it probably means nothing, but it’s Shauna’s way of shutting down the topic with tact. And that has meaning. So Tai opens another topic, and another after that.
They do eventually get to the topic of Ben.
Later, she brings it – with a couple of others – to Nat, who doesn’t argue, doesn’t wield her position, doesn’t call for a vote, just nods, hollow-eyed and defeated.
The decision had never really been in question. Shauna has stood firm, and their conversation had been efficient, over before Tai could offer an alternative she hadn’t prepared; they had agreed from the beginning.
But.
It lingers in her stomach, somehow unexpected.
She’d scoffed at Nat faltering at reality—when it became clear she had no fucking clue what to do without a two-thirds majority. Tai understands now.
She finds herself, hours after the fact, grasping for reasons to avoid Ben an execution.
She brings it up to Van.
(And no one else after that.)
"Taissa," Van starts, confused. "You ran prosecution."
"I don’t… Look, I don’t know what to do. I’m not convinced anymore," Tai explains, thinking of Coach Scott looking out for them, for her and Van specifically. "And you weren’t either just a few days ago!"
"And now I am, because you’re a great prosecutor!" she shouts, like a quip could deflect from this conversation.
"Van, come on."
"I mean, fuck, Tai!"
"We could just leave him alone—"
"He set the cabin on fire, OK?" Van cuts her off. "Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. He is a threat. One leg, hears voices, whatever-the-fuck-else; Ben survived for weeks on his own. He’s not weak. He’s the one. We need to put this behind us," she says, edge to her voice. Something almost pleading.
***
They kill Ben.
Another crack on Nat’s crown; she had wanted an execution, plain and simple—a shotgun to the head. Painless, quick. Shauna had argued for a hunt. To give Ben a fair shot.
"Don’t you want him to have a fair shot, Nat?" she said.
Nat gave in, governed by the hollow mercy of letting him pretend he had a chance.
Shauna’s voice cuts through the trance of standing over his body. Ben’s body. "Good. Don’t look away." She’s talking to Melissa.
(They don’t bury him.
Van starts the pyre. Tai decides there’s no point in dwelling, wills herself to move on. It works.)
***
Tai finally tells Van, who bursts out laughing as soon as the words are out of her mouth, like it’s the best joke she’s heard in weeks. From a sitting position, she ends up with her back on the floor.
"You’re not serious?" she asks, though looking absolutely delighted. Tai nods, laughing too. "Damn. Go Melissa. I knew she had it in her. Shauna I just suspected."
Tai tries to give her an incredulous look, but a giggle breaks out of her. "Oh, you did, did you?"
Van nods, deciding the floor isn’t so bad. Tai joins her and props herself up with an elbow.
"Of course. Fuck," she starts laughing again. "That’s so random, though. Like, what do they even talk about? How to best match flannel shirts?"
Van’s still laughing when Tai shifts, moving to straddle her, Van’s hands instinctively going to her waist.
"I don’t know," Tai says, still smiling, but—"She said they’re not like us."
She expects Van to frown comically and say what Tai’s thinking, id est: what the fuck does that mean? but Van just shrugs, like she understands. "Well, yeah," she starts. "I don’t think they’re gonna get married or anything."
And, sure, that can explain it. Shauna’s having a fling. That sounds wrong, but sure.
She smiles smugly down at Van.
"Oh." Playful, bracing her hands on either side of Van’s head. "And we are?"
"You know what I mean," Van chuckles. "They’re probably just passing time."
Tai hums, half-agreeing, and drops her head onto Van’s chest, just to feel the rise and fall of it. Van takes the hint, warm hand dragging slow circles against her back. Tai exhales, lets herself sink into it.
"I was glad for her at first. ‘Cause I thought she’d untense a bit." Euphemism of the year. "But I don’t think Shauna wants a… a partner."
Van continues her patterns. "She probably needs one though."
"Want and need are two different things," Tai says, melting into the warmth of her girlfriend’s hands, the steady rythm of her touch. She wonders if Shauna can still care about someone like that.
***
She hasn’t had a nightmare in a while.
(It’s better than sleepwalking, at least.)
She wakes up with a gasp, clutching at her chest, the disturbance arousing Van from her sleep, who sits up immediately to meet her. Tai’s breathing is labored, so Van puts her hand over the one that’s on her heart while the other strokes her back, shushing her.
"Hey, hey, hey," she murmurs. "You’re OK, you’re OK."
Tai’s breathing slows and she finally looks at Van, grounding herself. Van guides her back down with the hand that’s on her chest, the other one leaving her back to act as a pillow.
"You’re OK," she repeats, softly.
She saw the trees, screaming. The entire woods on fire. Tai was there, discarnate, or maybe a tree herself. It’s hard to recall. She doesn’t want Van to ask her about it, now.
"Distract me," she says.
It’s something they did in winter, when the cold and the hunger were too painful to bear; an escape from torture, to something beautiful. They would close their eyes, and Van would tell her stories—a door to a reality away from the awful gnawing in their stomachs.
They were stories about them; memories—sometimes reshaped, future imaginings, fantasies…
"Which one?"
She turns to her, face in her neck. "Your pick."
Van takes a few seconds. Tai focuses on her breathing, the up and down movement of her chest, and feels her pulse beat slower already.
"It’s fall," Van begins. "Around noon or one, so the weather is just perfect—it’s warm but there’s wind too. Kids are outside, playing. Feels like everyone’s outside. We’re walking one step off the curb because that’s where the leaves are and we like the crunchy sound they make.
"We come across your mom; she’s on her way back to work after her lunch break and she gives us both a hug. She tells you she loves you when she says goodbye. I make fun of you, pinch your cheeks like a baby but you don’t get embarrassed; idiot, you call me. I tell you I’m your idiot.
"We keep walking through the city, and we’re holding hands and no one cares. These two old ladies smile at us, and it makes the day seem brighter. The future seems brighter too. They’re tossing coins into the fountain that’s dedicated to that Saint, you know? Shauna kept telling us who he is, but it never sticks. Anyway, they tell us one of those coins was for us.
"Whatever they prayed for, it’ll work out. We sit on the bench that faces the fountain, and I lay my head in your lap while you play with my hair. We listen to the soft, rythmic sound of water kissing stone. It harmonizes gently with the soft rustle of leaves overhead, and the footsteps of passersby.
"You lean down and kiss me, in the open. I love you. Everything is perfect."
***
She was right. Nat is unequipped for this. Power is slipping from her everyday and she’s too preoccupied with getting back what’s irrevocably lost to do anything real about it.
Tai knows what she would do if she were in her position. If she wanted to, she could spell it out for her, and Natalie would still do nothing, because she’s too honored by being chosen to risk doing anything that contradicts why she was in the first place. Or because she’s too kind. Either way, the outcome stays the same, and she’s an idiot.
She goes to the woods to clear her head. Van is helping Lottie gather wood or something, so she takes her time.
She finds Shauna and Melissa—she didn’t even notice they were missing from camp—on a log, Melissa sitting and Shauna kneeling in front of her, head resting in her lap as Melissa strokes her hair.
The sight is a small shock to her. She quickly feels like she’s intruding on something Shauna doesn’t want her – or anyone – to see, and, without thinking, she takes a step back. Twigs snap loudly under her foot; Shauna’s head lifts immediately, eyes locking onto hers.
It lasts about two seconds before Tai turns and walks away.
***
Intrusion notwithstanding, Tai and Shauna do get closer again. Shauna’s still too wrapped up in herself to tolerate a pointless hangout with more than two people at a time – although it did happen, that time Van and Mel had joined them both – but it’s something. It’s better.
Mel and Shauna are odd. They are unlike her and Van. A lot of the time, they don’t communicate, just stay in each other’s vicinity—sometimes not even that close. Tai can’t tell whether Shauna’s protective of Mel or if she’s actually as annoyed as she acts when Mel’s teeth chatter and only makes her sit closer to the fire so she won’t have to hear it. Tai thinks it’s sort of sweet anyway.
Which Shauna, generally speaking, is not. Or more accurately, hasn’t been in a while.
She wasn’t today.
Mel had come to Shauna’s hut too, and Shauna had dismissed her like a little kid tugging at her sleeve. Like JV. Tai’ll give her that, there was some tact: "Didn’t you have the laundry to do, or something?"
"Wow, that was like kicking a puppy," Tai remarked after Mel left. Shauna didn’t seem to agree with the metaphor, but:
"She’ll come back," she said anyway. "I wanna talk with just you, right now, is that OK?" she added, sarcastic and irritated, when she looked back at Tai, who must have looked judgy.
Tai snorted. "Sure."
She wasn’t about to get into it with Shauna over Mel. The girl had sort of grown on her—that persistent little worm—but still. It was Mel.
As all things, she brings it up to Van. It’s not like there is a lot to do for fun in the wilderness aside from fucking and talking. Some (a lot) of that talk ends up being gossip.
Of course, without missing a beat, Van goes; "Do you think they fuck?"
Tai hits her shoulder. "Ew, Van," she berates, but can’t help a laugh from escaping. "I don’t wanna fucking think about that."
(Mel comes to Shauna’s hut every night. Things probably happen, and she doesn’t need to know about them.)
Van laughs, pushes Tai gently against a tree, places her hands on either side of Tai’s face; "Like seriously, I really wanna know; what do they even do together?"
"Shut up," she laughs. Doesn’t try to break free.
Van hums, thoughtful, mischievious. "Bite each other while looking into one another’s eyes?" she muses, and Tai wonders where she comes up with this stuff. "Drink each other’s blood?"
She takes Van’s hands, guides them on her hips. Her laughter fades, just a little. Because she’s seen things—just once, when Shauna and Mel thought no one was looking. She presses a quick kiss to Van’s lips, tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"I’m sure they’re a lot more normal that we think," Tai lies (Van sees right through her).
But Van continues. "Sit in silence? Plot Nat’s demise?" Then quieter, still teasing but not unserious; "Ah, no, that’s you and her. Should I be worried about that?"
She doesn’t say it in a way that invites laughter—more like she’s laying it down between them for Tai to pick it up for what it is.
Tai exhales, drapes her arms over Van’s shoulders. "Van," she says, warm, reassuring. "I’m not plotting anything."
"Good," Van nods. "I can’t share you with anyone else, let alone the whole team. And I’m not interested in being First Lady."
"Hey, if I’m elected president one day, you won’t have a choice."
Van smiles, rolls her eyes. "You wanna marry me so bad, Tai. It’s actually embarrassing for you."
She scoffs, mock-offended. "You’re the one that keeps bringing it up." To which Van smirks and tilts her head in that way that drives her absolutely wild.
"Hm. Am I?"
(She hasn’t decided on when, yet. Or if she should even do it—if it’s not just stupid. Later, she still goes to Akilah with what she has and asks for her help.)
***
Really, Tai tries not to think about it, but it’s sort of a pink elephant situation. And it’s not like the question of whether she would actually be better at leading the Yellowjackets can just disappear because she wills it to. Not when she’s forced to look it in the face every damn day.
She finds herself wedged between Nat and Shauna, who’s now decided, since the whole Ben thing, that she gives a shit about how things run after months of shutting everything out, and now, she has a pet with her who might be less puppy and more rabid fucking dog that Tai had anticipated.
And just like that, Tai’s the tiebreaker.
If Nat and Shauna were objective—if they actually wanted things to work instead of fighting over who gets to steer the sinking ship, they’d skip the back and forth and just let Tai decide. But Shauna’s a goddamn shark, and Nat’s too angry with Shauna to back down and risk handing her the reins.
Van’s opinions start to rub off on her eventually, and she finds herself wanting it less and less every time a decision has to be tiringly fought for—even thinking sometimes, let them tear each other apart over it—so, while the want lingers, it’s also quieter. And that’s probably for the best.
Happy wife, happy life.
***
Van’s thumb brushes the edge of her wrist, the gesture quiet but purposeful, and tilts her head to the left, her eyes light with amusement, mischief. Lips curling ever-so-slightly. A small chuckle escapes her at the accidental staring contest.
"You’re looking at me like that again," Van says, softly.
Tai doesn’t bother to hide the way her gaze drops to her girlfriend’s mouth, like she’s pulled to it. She leans further into Van’s touch until her fingers are brushing the inside of her elbow.
(Tai had told her once, in one of these quiet moments between them, that the butterflies everyone talks about, that fluttery sensation—they don’t come in the usual places for her. For Tai, it’s a tingling in the inside of her right elbow, a place that feels like it’s been rewired. Just for Van.)
"Like what?"
Van raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Like you want to do something about it."
Tai lets out a breath, feigning a casual shrug, though the smile that tugs at her lips betray her attempt at nonchalance. "Maybe I do."
A breeze shifts around them as Van’s fingers continue their slow, deliberate path along her arm. She expects Van to nudge her with a sly glance, flicker her eyes to a more private place with a silent invitation.
Then—
A shout rips through the air, breaking the peace with jagged edges. Other voices join the mix, tension in the air shifting abruptly. Tai and Van both turn instinctively, eyes locking on the source of the chaos; at the center of it all, Shauna and Gen are shouting, and Tai can see the way Shauna’s face is twisted in anger, feels the danger of it. Melissa stands between them, her hands raised in an attempt to calm the storm, but her voice is swallowed by them.
Tai is almost impressed, watching Gen standing toe-to-toe with Shauna—to see anyone, really, pushing back against Shauna. But then her gaze shifts downward, catching the glint of metal at Gen’s side; the rifle, slung casually over her shoulder by its strap, is an undeniable presence. The fuel to Gen’s defiance.
As Tai and Van, and the others at camp, edge closer to the commotion, the scene shifts; Mel, once caught between the two, now stands squarely by Shauna’s side, her hand setting firmly on Gen’s shoulder, a signal to back down.
It throws Gen off-balance, and in that moment of hesitation, Shauna takes full advantage.
With a sharp shove, Shauna sends Gen sprawling to the ground – pushing Mel out of the way in the process – and the rifle tumbles to the dirt with a dull thud.
The world seems to freeze for a second.
Tai’s gaze snaps to the rifle as Shauna reaches for it quickly, her fingers closing around the cold metal like a second skin. She lifts it with an unsettling fury, points it at Gen.
She can’t be sure how long it takes for Mel to react. She thinks she hears a few pleas from the other girls for Shauna to drop the weapon, but everything feels suspended. Like the world itself is holding its breath.
Then, the sharp sound of the safety being pulled shatters that fragile stillness, and Mel steps in front of the barrel. A human shield.
Shauna doesn’t hesitate pointing the rifle higher, the barrel now trained on Mel. The movement looks too swift for the look in her eyes. Tai knows it without needing to read it; for Shauna, this is betrayal.
Van eventually figured out what Shauna saw in Mel, and she told Tai; Shauna values Mel’s loyalty because it’s unimpeded by fear or conscience.
(She hadn’t thought about Coach Scott’s death since it happened, but it’s coming back now; the blood on Shauna’s knife, saying Good. Don’t look away—because Mel wasn’t. She wasn’t even fucking blinking. Was she smiling?)
Mel doesn’t flinch at the brutality, in fact, she thrives in it. Just like Shauna does.
Well, she doesn’t stand so firm, now. Her hands are shaking.
Shauna’s gaze hardens, but then she lowers the gun without a word, turns on her heel, and strides back to her hut.
The world releases its breath.
***
That same night, she watches Mel get into Shauna’s hut, like nothing happened.
Tai, once again, thinks about Shauna’s It’s not like you guys. How right she was. Shauna doesn’t want a partner, she wants something to play with. No—she wants to break something and still own all its pieces.
Tai grits her teeth, shaking her head, but despite herself, there’s a pulse of something—raw and complicated. That she can’t quite ignore. That same twisted empathy she can never fully outrun when it comes to Shauna. Whatever she felt for Ben, it couldn’t compare.
She gets back into her hut.
"Coming to bed, finally," Van says.
She doesn’t think now is exactly the right time, but this day has somehow stripped her bare. She’s drained and left only with clarity. Every noise and tension has been smothered, only the simple truths remain; that nothing fucking matters—not these woods, not its queen, not even what they do—nothing except for Van.
So she joins her side, but doesn’t lay down, just grabs her hand.
"I wanna try something," she says. Van seems to catch the seriousness in her voice, and nods without hesitation. "I want to tell you a story, OK? You just close your eyes."
"OK," Van says softly.
"No talking." Van smiles and Tai continues. "Picture a beach during summer," she begins. "It’s just us, sitting on the sand. Sun setting low on the horizon, the color bleeding into the sea in a way that reminds me of your hair. So I look at you, but you’re already looking at me. I could stay like this forever, ‘cause you’re so fucking beautiful, everything else starts to look dull."
She takes a break to kiss her lips. Van smiles with her eyes still closed.
"But you want to go for a swim, even though we just had a picnic, because you’re an idiot, and then—fuck," Tai breaks. "No, not like this."
Van opens her eyes, furrows her brows as she squeezes Tai’s hand.
"You were doing great, keep going."
"No. I… I want the real thing. Not a fantasy," she says, and guides Van to sit up in front of her.
She reaches into the pocket of her pants and pulls out the small bundle wrapped in worn cloth, unwraps it, reveals the ring Akilah helped her make. A band made of braided leather, adorned with a bead from bone, the sides interwoven with strands of plant fibers. Van gasps softly at the ring, then looks into her eyes.
Tai doesn’t look away. Unable to swallow the lump in her throat, she continues:
"This is our life, and I love it," she breathes. "I love you. I want to marry you, whatever that means here. I don’t need anything else. You were right this entire time."
Van chokes on a laugh. "Of course I was."
Tai laughs too, and she’s freely crying now. "Yes or no, Palmer."
Van doesn’t answer—just kisses her, hard, so hard they almost collapse backwards. When she breaks away, still laughing, she says: "I knew you weren’t a public proposal kinda gal."
Tai shakes her head. "This is for you and me."
She feels the weight of it fully now, settling around them like a blanket.
Still holding her, eyes wet, Van says: "You know… I used to think that I didn’t really deserve you. That you were with me partly because, well, the world is what it is and I’m the only lesbian in it—and that’s before we crashed," she laughs, holding Tai’s face gently in her hands.
Her brows knit a little. "How could you think that?" she murmurs.
Van sighs, shrugs, runs a thumb over Tai’s cheek. "It’s weird that it took this place—where I really was the only lesbian in the world for you, as far as we knew," she adds with a wink, eliciting a wet giggle from Tai. "It took this place for me to realize that you felt just as strongly as I did."
Tai can only kiss her. She’s always loved those moments, where that’s the only option.
When they break apart, their foreheads connect, and Tai says gently, "Van, this is my proposal. You don’t get to make a speech."
Van smiles with her mouth closed and pulls her hands from Tai’s face, reaching in her own pocket. She pulls out a similarly small, carefully wrapped bundle. Tai draws a breath, then pushes jokingly at Van’s shoulder.
"Surprise, bitch," Van laughs. "I went to Akilah too. Bless her, I think she’s made us matching bands."
Through tears, Tai releases a laugh. "God, I love you so much."