Life continued as normal after I killed Madame.
No one even really spoke to me about it. A few people muttered to themselves when I walked past and even more stared at me with a new wariness, but nothing more. It was so anticlimactic that sometimes I wondered if I’d actually done it or if it’d all been a dream. I’d been prepared to be locked up for murder, and to have nothing happen made what I’d done feel less like vengeance and more like just fresh, pointless blood on my hands.
Apple showed up the very next day. When I turned to see her step through the door, I froze. For a long moment, we just stood there, staring at each other. She deserved so many explanations and apologies, but none of them made it past my lips. Finally, she walked toward me and wrapped her arms around my legs. My eyes burned and my hand dropped to rest on her blonde head. After a minute, she let go and went straight to the sink and washed her hands like I'd taught her. Numbly I went back to what I'd been doing, moving around the clinic like a silent ghost as I worked, but she didn't seem to mind. She just hovered near me the entire day, quiet and watching, helping with small tasks and bringing me a glass of water every so often.
She watches you. Everything you do. You’re teaching her what to think about herself by how you think about you. Trey’s words stabbed through my head.
I'd planned on being a better person for Apple and all the kids, but mostly I wanted to be better for Trey. What was the fucking point? Why try to be a good person when all the best people I knew just ended up dead?
“I don’t think anythin’ bad can come from being a good person.”
I should’ve known that was bullshit.
I’d been afraid, terrified, that this would happen, but I hadn’t realized until now that I’d also been in denial that it could happen. Trey had just seemed so different, like he was somehow exempt from the awful reality I’d seen, like he couldn’t end up dead like everyone else because he was so full of life. There couldn’t be a time after Trey just like there couldn’t be a time after the sun.
Yet here I found myself, lost in that after with no idea how to keep going.
I looked up from my miserable thoughts to see Apple talking happily to Griz as she leaned against the wall, one foot up and resting on the wall behind her just like how Trey used to stand, and it struck me like a fucking bullet. The glasses of water, the company, the help, they were all her attempts to fill Trey's shoes for me.
My lungs stopped working. I dropped the bandage I’d been wrapping around a young man’s arm and darted toward the door.
“Bones?” Griz’s voice sharpened with alarm as he caught up to me by the door.
“Can you finish?” I managed to gasp, gesturing to the patient who stared wide-eyed at me, before fleeing outside.
My feet took me to the stables. Violet nickered at me when I slipped inside her stall. I stroked her, trying to get myself under control, but I lost that battle. I sank into the straw, my arms wrapped around myself as I sobbed. Violet sniffed my hair and nudged me with her nose. When I didn't respond, she stood beside me like a silent sentry as the pain swallowed me whole.
By the time I managed to get control over myself, the sun had set. I pulled my hood over my head and shoved my hands in my pockets, hoping nobody would notice me as I trudged back to the clinic. When I pushed the door open, I froze on the threshold.
Sam stood in the middle of the room.
I hadn’t seen him since before Trey and I had left. He looked like a shadow of his former self, thin, still too pale, and pissed.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he snapped, striding toward me.
A sliver of guilt trickled in through the numbness. “I’m—”
He pulled me forward into a hug, interrupting me. I could feel his heart pounding in his thin chest.
“You scared me,” he said, his voice rough. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I shoulda been here sooner. I just had a bad spell the last few days. Got laid up with a damn cold like an old man.”
My arms had instinctively wrapped around him, but he felt like a different person. I could feel all his ribs beneath my fingers, the muscle mass he’d been so vain about had vanished. He felt fragile. I almost asked him why he hadn’t come to the clinic, but then I remembered I couldn’t heal him.
“It’s ok,” I mumbled.
“Everybody’s out lookin’ for you.” He pulled back, studying my face. “Griz said you freaked out in the middle of bandaging someone.”
His scrutiny made me feel far too exposed. “I’m fine,” I said, pulling away and making my way to the sink under the pretense of washing my hands. “Sorry I scared you.”
The silence thickened, making me afraid to turn around. When I did, he stood by the exam table, his arms crossed, and eyes narrowed.
“So we’re back to that bullshit,” he bit out. “I didn’t believe Griz when he told me.”
“Sam—” I tried, but he interrupted.
"I'll go tell everyone you're back." He made his way to the door but paused for a moment. "I missed you, Shortcake," he said quietly before he stepped out the door.
The days slid by, thick and slippery as mud. Nemo was a better leader than Madame. He exiled any remaining assholes who liked the way Madame ran things. He opened the canteen up to everyone, regardless of whether they worked or not, but improving housing for everyone remained his top project. With about half the hold dead or gone, there wasn’t a housing shortage anymore, so he started moving the rusters out of the slums and into the empty houses.
A few of Madame’s top people were unaccounted for, including Sax and Zana. After a few days of combing through the hold, the general consensus was that they had fled during the fight.
Griz and Sam took over guard duties again. Raven came almost every day and bossed Sky and Apple around, but her eyes looked as hollow as mine. Jax still didn’t say much around me, but he came by the clinic every day and did odd jobs for me like chopping firewood or wrapping rolls of bandages. Mac worked closely with Nemo, but he made an effort to come by the clinic almost every day. I didn’t say much to any of them. I wasn’t trying to shut them all out, I was just so damn tired. I had to use every ounce of my energy just to get through every day.
They were all more subdued too, but every once and a while they'd get into a stupid argument, and for a second things almost felt normal. In those moments, I found myself looking for Trey, expecting to see him teasing Griz, wrestling Sam, or throwing his arm around Jax. A thousand tiny moments of realizing he was gone hadn’t done a damn thing to dull the pain.
The first time Mac showed up and announced that Nemo had summoned me, anxiety spiked so sharply through the numbness that I had to dart outside the clinic to be sick.
“You ok?” Mac asked, following me outside.
I stayed leaning over, my hands resting on my knees, and tried to convince myself I wasn’t about to hurl again.
“Bones?” Mac hovered at my side, sounding worried.
I sucked in another desperate breath through my nose. What would I do if Nemo wanted me to help him torture someone?
“Hey,” Mac crouched in front of me so he could look up at my face, “are you sick? I can tell Nemo you can’t make it tonight.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered.
His eyes narrowed into a glare. “Bones.”
I forced myself to straighten, smoothing the front of my shirt with trembling fingers. “Are we…are we going to the dungeon?”
He stood with me, and his brow furrowed in confusion for a second before realization dawned on his face. "Oh shit. No. He wants to talk at his place. He's not usin' the dungeon."
“Ever?”
His face darkened, and he stepped into my space to grasp my shoulders. “Bones, you never have to help torture people ever again.” His voice was firm. “And if anybody tries, they’ll have to answer to me.”
I shuddered, and he squeezed my shoulders gently.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I shoulda realized what that sounded like.”
I stepped backward and his hands fell back to his sides.
“You ready?” he asked after I didn’t say anything.
I nodded, but my anxiety followed me the entire way to Nemo's house. Nemo lived in one of the nicer homes built close to the tower. I'd been there once before to heal Nemo during the sickness, but it looked completely different. Some of the walls had been removed, opening up the room. People stood around tables, pouring over maps, talking about crops, and discussing the best material to use for new roofs.
“Nemo’s turning his house into his headquarters. Less intimidatin’ than the watchtower,” Mac explained quietly.
We went up to the second floor and Mac rapped on one of the doors in the long hallway, entering when Nemo beckoned us inside. Nemo sat behind a desk. He looked up and smiled, and I studied him out of habit. His face had filled out a little and his color was back. Shame cut through me as I realized he never came for healing after his imprisonment. I couldn't blame him if he didn't want anything to do with my healing powers anymore.
“Howdy, Bones, Mac,” he said, gesturing at the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, both of you, take a seat.” He eyed me as I sat, making me uncomfortable. “How are you doing, Bones?”
“I’m fine,” I said, ignoring the annoyed huff Mac gave next to me.
“I’m not gonna beat around the bush. I’m sorry for what Madame did to you.” He leaned forward on the desk, his gaze earnest. “I know that might not seem like much, but I am terribly sorry for all of it. We’ve been working on taking over for a long time, but I hate that so many innocent people got hurt before we could stop her.”
I fidgeted with my hands under the table, unsure of what to say.
“I wanted to let you in on what’s been going on. This uprising has been brewing for years, but Madame took out the initial wave so brutally that people were scared.” Nemo glanced at Mac, and I realized he was talking about Mac’s dad. “She wanted to intimidate the people, and it worked. The hold offered them security, and they were terrified of losing that. It took a long time to rebuild the resistance, and as you know all too well, Madame got wind of it somehow.”
I swallowed hard, unsure if I should apologize to him for helping Madame torture him. “I’m sorry—”
He held up a hand, stopping me. “You don’t need to apologize. I know you didn’t have a choice.”
I did though. I’d just made it far too late.
“You’ve been an important figure in the resistance, Bones.”
I had to fight to keep my expression even, nausea swirling in my stomach.
“You won the people over. You didn’t hesitate to heal the rusters after that fire. You saved everyone’s life during the sickness, regardless of where they lived. Jumpin’ in the pit to save Sky was another demonstration of how far you were willing to go to save people Madame saw as lesser. When Madame had you whipped for it, it was the final big push we needed to turn people to our side.” He sighed and rubbed his chest where I knew a long pink scar ran up his torso from Madame cutting him open like a dead fish. “Course I didn’t plan on getting caught by Madame. That threw a wrench in things. I had to rely on the people to riot, which they did after Madame killed Trey.”
My entire body stiffened.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he continued, his voice softening. “Everybody loved Trey, including myself. He was a good man, a kind man. He was also a member of the resistance. When Madame killed him, it was the spark that lit the fire. Those who were a part of the resistance were compelled to act, and the few people who were still afraid were convinced to join them.”
Nausea rose, and I swallowed down the urge to puke again. So me and Trey had both been pawns.
“I know this might not be much comfort, but Trey wanted to make this place different. I think his soul will rest in peace knowing he had a hand in it.”
I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming that I didn’t care, that Trey’s life had been too high a price to pay.
“I’d like for you to stay here, Bones,” Nemo added. “You’re a valuable member of this hold. If you need anything, please let me know.”
I nodded and that seemed to satisfy him. I knew what it meant to be valuable.
“Alright, I’ll let you go. Thanks for taking the time to see me. Oh, and we found these. Thought you might want them back.”
I reached for my pack and Trey’s pack as he pulled them out from behind his desk. I automatically shrugged mine on, the familiar weight settling on my back.
“Have a good night, Bones,” Nemo said, and when I glanced at him, his smile looked sad.
In a daze, I returned to the clinic alone since Mac needed to speak privately to Nemo about something. When I got back inside, I set both packs down on my bed and stared at them for a long moment. I did not have the strength to go through Trey's things, so I opened mine instead. Of course, the little wooden dandelion he'd made for me sat on top. I struggled to breathe through the pain in my chest as I took it out and set it aside, but the next thing wasn't much better.
It was his quilt.
I pulled it out, bundling it close to me and pressing my nose to the soft fabric. Tears rolled down my face. It still smelled like him. I clung to it, desperate to breathe him in, knowing the scent would soon fade and then the last little piece of Trey left in the world would be gone.
I curled up on my mattress, my arms wrapped around the quilt, and sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.
Hours later, a soft knock sounded at the door and Mac poked his head in.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
I was scrubbing the floor, despite it being nearly midnight, trying to lose myself in mindless work. I shrugged and avoided eye contact, knowing my eyes were still red and swollen. Gods, I hoped he wasn’t staying long.
“You want a drink?”
I looked up, surprised. He had a dark expression on his face, but he held up a bottle of liquor.
“Sure.”
I put my cleaning supplies away while he poured us two glasses. When I came back over, he handed me one and then downed his drink in one shot. I watched him as I drank mine slower. It burned the whole way down and tasted like ass, but I didn't care. He poured himself a second glass and then leaned on the table, dropping his head down so I couldn't see his face.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Doesn’t it piss you off? he asked darkly without looking up.
“What?”
“Bein’ used like that? For somebody else’s cause?”
I paused, feeling a tiny flicker of rage come to life in my chest. “I’m always bein’ used for somebody else’s cause.”
He glanced up at that, his eyes stormy with rage and pain and guilt. He downed his second drink, setting it on the table with a hard thud. “Fuck,” he said again.
I tipped my drink back, downing the rest of it like he had. I had a feeling I would need it.
“I did that,” Mac said. “I used you for my own cause by bringin’ you here.” He brought a hand up and rubbed his eyes hard. “I’m so sorry, Bones.”
I tried to feel something, but even the anger had been snuffed out by the crushing numbness.
“You already apologized,” I said, pouring myself a second drink.
“When?” He dropped his hand down, staring at me with an intensity I wasn’t drunk enough to handle.
I shot back my second drink. “When you were sick.”
He looked wary. “I apologized to you?” When I nodded, he frowned. “I don’t remember doin’ that.”
“You had a real high fever.” I shrugged.
“Did I say anythin’ else?” he asked.
I thought back to that moment, grateful to the alcohol for making this easier. “You apologized and said you couldn’t let Trey d-die.” My voice shook. “I told you I knew you didn’t have a choice. You asked if I hated you, and I told you I didn’t.”
He stared at me for a moment longer, that muscle in his jaw jumping, then poured himself a third drink and downed it. “Was that it?”
I hesitated a moment and his eyes sharpened.
“What else?”
"You just wanted to make sure I knew I was a part of your crew," I said, making a snap decision to not tell him how he'd promised not to let anyone hurt me again. I wasn't sure if he'd feel guilty, but I didn't want to risk it. It wasn't a promise anybody could keep.
He looked uneasy, and I couldn’t blame him. I remembered when Trey revealed I said things during my burnout fevers that I didn’t remember afterward. Maybe I should have kept that whole conversation to myself.
“Why weren’t you a part of the rebels?” I blurted out.
He met my eyes for a moment, looking startled, before turning away. “Madame watched me closer than most people. Plus, I didn’t know who was in charge, and I wasn’t willin’ to jeopardize the safety of my crew on the hope that whoever it was would be a better person than Madame.”
I couldn't fault him for that.
"After—" His voice broke. "After Trey died, I joined ’cause I knew I'd at the very least be able to get rid of Madame and Vulture."
The pain that stabbed through me at the mention of Trey’s name took my breath away for a moment. Would that ever go away? Or would it hurt for the rest of my life?
“I didn’t know Vulture found you or that he was bringin’ you back. Madame kept it quiet,” Mac said, low and pained. “If I’d known I would’ve done something. I hope you know that.”
I nodded, hoping he could see the honesty in my face because I did know that, but knowing it wouldn’t bring back the dead.
We stood in silence for a few moments. Finally, he let out a sigh.
"I better go. Griz is the night guard so let him know if you need anything."
I nodded again, pain and grief still holding my lungs in a vise. After he left, I went to my bed, wrapped myself in Trey’s quilt, and tried to ignore how the quiet of the clinic slowly crushed me.
Time kept moving and I kept dragging myself forward with it. Nights were the worst. Griz or Sam usually took night guard duty, but they stayed outside, leaving me alone in the clinic like they thought I wanted privacy. I was somewhat relieved because I could let myself cry into Trey’s quilt without worrying about anybody seeing me, but if I was honest with myself, I was so fucking lonely. As the sun set every day, I just wanted Trey. I started doing rounds in the evening like I had during the fever, checking in on injured or sick people. Anything just to get out of the fucking clinic. I hated how my eyes constantly strayed to the empty place by the door where his mattress had been. I hated waking up and reaching for someone who wasn't there.
Every night I watched him die in my nightmares. Sometimes I dreamt of other horrible things, but most often it was Trey’s death. I watched the light fade from his eyes over and over again until sleeping began to feel like torture. So I stopped sleeping. At night I stayed awake and worked. I re-labeled all the tinctures. I deep cleaned everything. I mended all the tears in my clothes. I caught up on my medical notes. On really bad nights, I went outside and walked alone along the wall of the Vault until my body was too exhausted to keep going. Griz or Sam always asked if I wanted company on those walks, but I always declined.
I pretended not to see Trey’s pack sitting in the corner of the room.
In the daytime, I dozed between patients which usually kept me from having a full-fledged nightmare. People got used to shaking me awake when they needed healing. A knot of guilt lodged itself in my stomach as people kept trying to talk to me and kept making an effort, and I couldn't be anything but this empty shell of a person. I kept waiting for people to snap at me or tell me to get over it, but they didn't. They were kind, and that was almost worse.
"Nemo approved the plan to start a school for the kids," Leda told me one day as Jet toddled around the clinic. "We're looking at a few buildings, but they're all gonna need some renovations before we can do anything. I'm hoping we can spend the spring and summer working on it and the kids can start in the fall."
“That’s great,” I murmured.
It took me a bit to realize she’d gone silent, and I looked away from Jet to see Leda studying me.
“Bones, you know you can talk to me anytime, right?” The earnest kindness in her hazel eyes reminded me painfully of Trey. “I’m here for you.”
I nodded.
“The grief never goes away,” she added after a moment, her voice slightly shaky. “I lost my partner before I even knew I was pregnant. Having Jet helped a little, but the only thing that really dulled the pain was time.” She covered my hand on the exam table with her dark one. “Just know it’s ok to feel.”
After she left, I stood at the exam table for a long time. I had to be broken because most of the time I felt nothing. Besides the moments where the grief and pain suddenly came pouring out of my eyes, the emptiness consumed me. I remembered sitting in Madame’s cell watching the blood spurting from her neck and feeling nothing at all. Maybe time couldn’t fix me. Maybe I was more like Madame than I was like Leda. How much pain could a person take before they went mad? I wasn’t sure how much more I could bear.
Mac's crew started going out on missions to get supplies for all the new projects as the snow melted. I wasn't sure if Mac asked people to check in on me, but in the crew's absence, the clinic stayed full of people. Apple and Sky came every day. The two girls had bonded, and I was grateful for that. At least they had each other. Leda and Jet stopped by most days. Even Nemo came by once.
Then one day, the door opened, and Mist walked in.
I froze at the sight of her, an ice-cold guilt filling the numbness. Her face had a little more color to it and she looked less skeletal. She wore her blonde hair down, hiding the awful holes where her ears had once been. Scars covered her arms, scars that I'd helped put there.
Mist smiled, looking nervous, but she came up to me and handed over a bar of soap. “I thought you might be getting low.”
I took it, my fingers trembling.
“And I just wanted to make sure you knew, I don’t blame you,” she added in a whispered rush. “It wasn’t your fault, Bones.”
I looked down at the soap in my hands. I didn’t deserve her forgiveness. Hawk at least agreed with me. I’d seen him a few times around the hold. He hadn’t said anything, but the simmering anger in his eyes when he looked at me spoke for him. Hawk hadn’t forgiven me for what I’d done, and it made me feel relieved. I would never forgive myself for the torture I’d helped Madame afflict, and it strangely comforted me to know at least one other person out there felt the same way.
“I’m sorry about Trey,” Mist added in a trembling whisper. ”He was a good man.”
My breath caught, and she squeezed my shoulder, her eyes glimmering with tears before she turned and left. I caught a glimpse of Apple and Sky watching, their faces solemn. I had to bite back the impulsive urge to snap at them to leave. They shouldn't be here with me. They should go help someone better, someone like Leda, where they could learn how to be good from people naturally that way. What could they learn from me? How grief could make a person wither away until they crumbled into dust?
I didn’t see Clarity at all.
I tried to convince myself it would be disrespectful to go to her. If she didn’t want to see me, I could at least honor that. She probably hated me, and I couldn’t blame her. Seeing me would probably just cause her more pain, and gods, hadn’t I done enough?