Unsettling Revelation

They'd been friends back at the facility, him joking and her listening, and smiling, every so often. Once she'd even laughed…granted, he had no idea what he'd said that was so funny, but still: a laugh! Bloody amazing, that's what it was! And, of course, they had gotten separated, but they'd found eachother again. Closer than ever, that's what he'd thought.

And then there was a rather long stretch of time he'd rather not think about, before she'd dragged him through that portal, back to the safety of the floor. He'd clung to her desperately, blocking out everything else as awareness slowly filtered back into his mind, bringing with it more guilt and self-loathing than he'd known he was capable of. The fact she hadn't pried him off and left him to Her he took as a sign of absentmindedness, or something, because there was no way she could not want to kill him, after all that.

Her hand rubbed gentle circles on his back in the elevator, and she'd helped him to his feet at the end of the ride. His eyes had found hers, the rest of him cringing away, ready for his immediate demise. But there'd been no hate in her face, only pity and pain. He forced himself to follow her into the field, and brave the outside world he'd craved for so long.

It wasn't anything like what he'd expected, considering how much the scientists had talked about it. At first, it was nothing but grain for as far as the eye could see, but after a few days of walking, they'd found a town. The people had simply enveloped the two of them into their community, for the short time they'd stayed; neither of them was really comfortable with staying in one place for too long. To not need roots, or a rail, to survive seemed almost to be the ultimate gift.

Two weeks after they left, she sat back, gazing up at the full moon, a sardonic smile on her lips, and said the first true words he'd ever heard her speak.

"So this is freedom."

He'd muttered something about never being free, as long as that thing was up in the sky, and she'd nodded her agreement. They went back to trying to rest.

Aliens had destroyed so much of the world…what was left seemed to have barely survived the nearly immediate zombie apocalypse that had followed. But they were rising from the ashes, that unstoppable force of humanity, and for once it seemed he was rising with them. Perhaps he was merely riding the updraft from her wings, but he was perfectly willing to settle for that.

They'd gotten a truck to live in, and modified it as they went, to suit their needs. He couldn't get over the fact that not only had she forgiven him, but they seemed to be more than they'd been, Back There. More than friends: now they were partners.

And now, sprawled in the back of the truck, watching the stars through the narrow skylight, was something else he could never predicted, that he'd never, in a thousand years, have seen coming, and that he wasn't sure he was comfortable with. Her eyes locked on his, not demanding, but still requesting a response, her hands on either side of his legs, her breath on his face…

A weak smile tugged at her lips, his lack of response saying more than he wanted.

"I see."

That was all she said, pulling back so that she was no longer leaning over him, so that their faces weren't so close, so that he could think. She turned away, looking pained, and lay down to rest (he wasn't sure what was worse: that the cramped space forced her to curl up beside him, or that if they'd camped outside he was confident that she would've retreated as far away from him as she could get.) She left him with far too much to think about, and no one to talk to.

Biting his lip and hugging his arms close to himself, he remained propped up against the door of the compartment. By morning, he'd only have sorted out one thing about what had happened, and that was that, somehow, he'd managed to absolutely ruin something that he, very possibly, had wanted as much as she had. And the thought brought him close to tears.