#and a broken heart stitched back together (both representative of her feelings about the Doctor

[megabadbunny]

i will never be what you want and that's alright i play my own damn tune i shine like the moon and very soon, i'll soon fly over you and what you gonna do when I fly over you tell me who made you the center of the universe?

(x)

——-

Martha Jones as imagined in the art nouveau style of the incomparable Alphonse Mucha; the full piece of my submission for the @dwgoshzineproject! See the matching Rose piece here!

[mello-jello]

Levihan Drabble Week - Fluff Friday

1246 Words.

@levihan-drabbles my prompt was:

"Don't you have a country to run?" "My favorite person is in the hospital, the country can wait" "I don't think it works like that." "I run the country, so it does."

---

“I guess… this is the result of all your devoted... hearts” Levi proudly saluted them all. His comrades and his friends, as he let the tears flow freely. It was over. It was finally over. As the weight of everything that he went through the past few days began to lift, he started feeling light headed. He sank back against the rock, afraid he was going to fall over. His vision was blurry, all he could focus on was the sound of his own breathing. He needed water. His vision doubled.

“LEEEVIIIIIII?”

He heard a voice, off in the distance. It was a warm, familiar voice, but something was off. It sounded worried, panicked even.

“LEVI!”

It was much closer now, and a little breathless. They had been running to him.

“Levi, stay with me!” Hange scooped Levi up in their arms.

Of course, I’ll stay with you. Where would I go? His last thought before he completely blacked out was how safe he felt in Hange���s arms.

---

He remembers that his leg is broken from when he saved Connie from that titan. He tried to flex the rest of his body parts, to assess the damage. The stumps on his right hand where his first two fingers used to be were sore and stinging. Probably infected. Half of his face was still bandaged. Both his legs were sore, but he could wiggle his toes on both feet, so that was promising. There was a dull ache throughout his body, and his skin felt clammy. He huffed to himself, and tried to relax.

He hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he could tell where he was. The rough sheets, the gentle humming of machines, the steady beeping of the vitals monitor, and the sterile smell were all dead giveaways. He was in the hospital.

He focussed on the hustle and bustle of the hospital hallway. Carts being wheeled around, footsteps, and the low murmur of many hushed voices.

“Are you saying I’m not allowed to go in anymore?”

His remaining eye shot open when he heard the voice he recognized.

“No, I’m just saying, like, don’t you have a country to run or something?” Levi didn’t know who the second voice was, but they were a bitch and hated them.

“My favorite person is in the hospital, the country can wait.” Levi smiled under his bandages. It pulled at his stitches, but his pain was dulled by the warmth growing in his chest.

"I don't think it works like that, sweetie,” they replied, condescendingly. Yup. Bitch.

"Well, you see I run the country, so yes, it does work like that,” Hange retorted, matching the bitch’s sarcastic tone.

Somehow, his smile widened. That was his Hange.

When Hange entered his room, their slightly miffed countenance shifted to one of pure joy. “You’re awake!” They rushed over the bedside and took hold of his good hand. With their free hand, they delicately brushed Levi’s hair off his forehead, almost as if afraid to touch him. Tears of relief began to well in Hange’s eyes. “Hey there,” they spoke so softly, Levi almost didn’t hear it.

“Hey, Four-Eyes,” Levi pulled their interlaced hands to his mouth and kissed Hange’s through the bandages. His voice was hoarse and small, but it was still music to Hange’s ears. Music they hadn’t listened to in 11 days.

After a moment, Levi asked, “They giving you trouble out there?”

“I know, right? What a bitch”. Levi stifled a chuckle as the movement reminded him of his injuries.

“But, what did she mean, ‘you have a country to run’?”

“Oh Levi, you missed SO. MUCH. You’ve only been out for 11 days, I say ‘only’ because while it is a long time for an individual to be in a coma, it’s an amazingly short amount of time for Paradis to transform into a Constitutional Monarchy with its first democratically elected official: Prime Minister Hange Zoe!”

Levi just blinked. He didn’t know what any of those words meant.

“That bitch in the hallway made a snide comment about how I was wasting all my time coming here everyday, when I should be doing my job,” Hange said, glaring at the doorway. “She said: don’t you get tired of blabbering on? He can’t reply, and he’s probably not even listening to you. I thought to myself, that’s just normal!”

Levi laughed and then groaned in pain. “Don’t make me laugh, Four-Eyes. It hurts”.

“Sorry,” they said earnestly.

“S’okay” Levi’s pain meds were starting to tire him out again.

“To be fair, it’s never been this easy”. Hange planted a kiss on Levi’s forehead.

“It’s the drugs”.

“Shut up, I’m hilarious.”

She was. And she was more bubbly than usual. Well, her usual as of lately. Before, this would have been considered a mild Hange. While he appreciated them being here, he couldn’t help but worry about them. Can they really afford to be with him right now? Was Hange putting off duties only to drown in them later? Becoming Commander of the Scouts had already taken a heavy toll on them and although he didn’t quite understand Hange’s new title, knew that it must be a huge responsibility.

Hange noted the worry in his eye and said, “I came to a realization while I was talking to you. You wanna know what it was?”

Levi nodded.

“I, Hange Zoe, while being awesome in every conceivable way, am just one person. My whole time as a scout, I kept repeating over and over that we were a team and that we could handle anything if humanity just worked together. Why didn’t I internalize that as Commander? I had too much on my plate and didn’t ask for help when I needed it”. They paused, remembering the many sleepless nights and stressful days. “So, Prime Minister Hange Zoe will be a master delegator. Armin is handling the restructuring of our government and military. I get daily reports from him, but other than that, he’s got my back while I’m here. Onyankopon is our ambassador and trade consultant. I have a whole cabinet of officials to oversee certain regions of land, and the best part is that they were chosen by the people of their respective regions to represent them,” Hange explained with growing enthusiasm all about this new system of government.

“That’s amazing, Hange.” Levi looked at them with such a fondness that made Hange blush.

“Thank you,” they bashfully replied as they fiddled with their glasses. They couldn’t see his mouth, but they could tell he was grinning by the crinkles around his eye.

“Alright, you” Hange said, standing up. “If you ever want to use that leg again, you’ll have to do some intense rehab. You’re so shit at sleeping. Eleven long days, but you’re still sleepy? Damn, quality over quantity, Levi! So rest up, because I’m going to tell the doctor you’re up and we’re starting tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll be here every step of the way… to laugh. When you fall on your ass,” they winked at him. That earned a small giggle from Levi, who was giving in to unconsciousness.

“Alright Four-Eyes… sounds…. Sounds real...mmm... really good” Levi drifted back to sleep and Hange kissed his forehead once more. Then whispered in his ear, “thanks for not dying, short stuff. You had me really worried there. I need you to get healed up, okay? I know a bitch that needs an ass-kicking”.

[marmolady]

Broken Chains: On a Knife Edge

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Part 4: Post-ending (Endless ending). Devoid of the essence that gave her life, Taylor has been left fighting for survival. For Estela, the reality of what they’ve done is about to come crashing down.

Word Count: 7355

Warnings: Probably rated M to be safe, for language.

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter

AO3

Estela woke slowly from a drugged haze, and found herself lying in a bed, crisp sheets tightly surrounding her. Beginning to make sense of the world around her she blinked, taking in the medical room. In the bed next to hers… Taylor. Lying prone, broken, lost to her. The air felt to be sucked from Estela’s lungs, her heart in her throat. It all flooded back.

Oh god, she’s gone. She’s gone.

“Taylor…” she croaked. No… please, no….

As she clumsily lurched to get up, Estela was firmly pushed back into her pillow. Michelle stood over her, an expression of stern resolve on her face.

“Let me--” Estela protested, but even as she did, her body seemed to give out on her.

“Did you see what you did to your leg? You’re not going anywhere.” Michelle lurched forwards, wrapping Estela in a strong hug, feeling resistance at first, then a pull inwards. “She… she’s very weak,” she said. “No response to anything; her pulse is slow… her breathing… but she’s stable.”

Both women had tears in their eyes as they came apart. The lump in Estela’s throat wouldn’t shift; she couldn’t breathe. Neither could she bear to look away from the shell of her brave Taylor, laid out, helpless, on the next bed. Her mind took her back to the caverns beneath the volcano; the blinding light overwhelming her as she clung desperately to Taylor’s form as it grew limp in her arms, adrenalin pulsing through her as she fought off the raptor’s relentless assault. It was like a nightmare, and she couldn’t wake up. Agonised, she looked at Michelle questioningly. What had happened?

Michelle bit her lip. It had not been long ago that she’d been ready to drag Estela for putting everyone through such a scare, but now she could only feel a mixture of relief and pity. “She did it. We can go home. We have a home.”

Estela’s gaze fell back upon Taylor, hooked up with wires and tubes. She watched her laboured breathing. The woman she loved was all but destroyed. The world and everyone in it, saved, but the price was far too much to bear. If Taylor was gone… what did home mean anyway?

“Here,” Michelle said quietly, offering her hand. “I’ll help you over to the other bed.”

Unsteadily, held up by her friend, Estela hobbled to the next bed and carefully curled up against Taylor’s side. She nuzzled her face into the crook of her neck; it was oh so familiar, and yet all wrong. What have we done?

“Estela… I promise we’re doing everything we can for her. It’s just… this isn’t something we can read about and know what to do. Varyyn said that Vaanu left her with just a faint spark of life and the parts of her that are human. But she never was human… I don’t know if there’s enough left of her…”

Her eyes stinging, Estela squeezed them shut defiantly. She had force herself to believe that there was still some hope, that the Taylor she loved was still there, somewhere. But it felt like she was holding onto an empty shell. Even without looking, she could feel Michelle observing her, playing the doctor. “She’s strong,” she snapped. “There’s something there, and I’m not giving up on her. And you can quit looking at me like that. I’m fine.”

“I’ve given you some pretty heavy painkillers. But if I see you up on that leg, I will personally chain you to the bed. It took a lot of stitches and those godsend leaves, but with a solid treatment of antibiotics, it should heal.”

“Some good surgery experience for you,” Estela grumbled bitterly. “You’re welcome.” Her injured leg barely registered as a problem. It was probably a bad wound --she hadn’t yet had a good look at it-- but wounds healed. Taylor might not.

Estela stared out the window over Taylor’s shoulder, dazed. A light shower of rain made the sea appear misty. The world around her seemed to grow in clarity, but she could hardly take it in. As she became more aware, she could feel the throbbing in her leg, all the way down to her foot. But all that mattered was the woman lying next to her. With lethargic movements, she stroked Taylor’s cheek with a grazed and bandaged hand, pausing intermittently to wipe away her own tears.

After a long while, Estela felt awake enough to acknowledge Michelle again.  “Was this right? To let her use herself as a sacrifice? One life to save billions, I get it. But we were gonna survive this together. All of us.”

Michelle gingerly sat on the bed beside her. “It was Taylor’s choice. I think… as hard as it is… she did what she needed to do. You both did.”

It didn’t feel right. Not to Estela. How dare the world keep on turning, millions and millions of people continue their lives, oblivious to the fact that the person who’d saved them-- the bravest person she’d ever known-- lay battered and empty? Even the thought that her tio was out there gave small comfort. How could she return to him, continue her life as normal? How could he begin to understand everything that had happened? Estela knew she couldn’t phone. To say what? That she was waiting at her wife’s deathbed? No, she would wait. She’d ring him up, tell him that she couldn’t wait to introduce him to her beautiful soulmate, tell him that she’d be home soon, and that she was happier than she could remember. Taylor would return with her to San Trobida… she’d share with her the places and memories from her childhood… they’d stargaze, looking upon constellations that Taylor had never seen before… they’d plan a future, start a family. The painful lump in Estela’s throat finally gave way, and she cried and cried.

 __________________________

The island had dissolved into a state of confusion. In times of crisis, Taylor had always fallen effortlessly into a leadership role among the Catalysts, somehow managing to find balance between the often-clashing personalities of her friends. It had taken several hours for the news of all that had happened to spread; it was only when Quinn returned from Elyys’tel that the whereabouts of half the group was explained. The atmosphere was bizarre. There was ecstatic jubilation and relief, as though the loss of their home and everyone in it had been a nightmare they’d just awoken from. But then, there was no question of leaving. They were a unit, and they’d go home together or not at all. That the miracle had come at such a terrible price weighed heavy… the shock of being on the brink of losing one of their own felt so much more real than the resurrected world beyond. Already, there had been the bittersweet realisation that Kele, along with Yvonne and Malatesta, had returned to their own times. Quinn, having already been emotionally strained by long hours in the medical room, had been distraught, and she and Michelle had cried together until they finally drifted to sleep.

When the inevitable rescue boats came, they were directed them towards the remains of MASADA, where the hotel guests remained in hydrodynamic stasis, awaiting revival. All Vaanti had to distance themselves from the coastline or hunker down within their homes to avoid detection during this time. Ensuring everyone’s safety was a mammoth undertaking that left Varyyn torn between protecting his people and being there for his distraught husband. Many had been unwilling to leave Elyys’tel, wanting to keep vigil for not only one of the Catalysts of legend, but the person who allowed Vaanu to leave at long last. In the end, the village was like a ghost-town by the time the rest of the Catalysts reconvened there. The only visible sign of life was the sprawling wall of flowers, gifts, and messages that piled high at the front of the medical centre. Knowing what it represented, it was a sobering sight. Even desperate as they were for contact with home, and for some semblance of understanding over what had happened, when it came down to it, what mattered most to every single one of them was to be near to Taylor and Estela in their time of need.

Agreeing on an explanation for what had happened since their being cut off from the rest of the world for a year and a half ago was another challenge. At the centre of the shifts of timelines, La Huerta had been totally unreachable. Rescue boats that attempted to approach simply found themselves in empty sea where the island was supposed to be. Baffled scientists could not explain the phenomenon. Eventually, everyone had agreed to plead ignorance. All their methods of transport off La Huerta had been destroyed, and they’d simply tried to survive while avoiding Rourke and the Arachnid soldiers. Anything that had gone on beyond that… was a mystery.

Aleister had been quick to point out the potential dire consequences of the suspicious disappearance of his father, who remained a high-profile figure. That he’d fallen into a hole in space-time would hardly be believed. Certain that any amount of investigation into Estela would leave her appearing guilty as sin, he busied himself with collecting evidence of Rourke’s instability, the use of assassins and the Arachnid troops to apply lethal force, and the generally unstable condition of the island itself. The damning evidence he found for foul play on Arachnid’s part would also no doubt be of great use in securing Jake’s freedom and letting Mike be remembered as the hero that he was. For safety’s sake, evidence of Olivia Montoya’s murder was destroyed. With Zahra’s hacking wizardry, there was soon no sign on any system that there ever had been a Dr. Montoya working for Rourke International. Aleister suspected he’d have hell to pay when Estela got wind of it, but he was by no means going let her take the fall. The ‘official’ story they’d relay to the Costa Rican authorities was that Rourke had been knocked into the lava flow during an attempt on the Catalysts’ lives. For Aleister, it was easier to focus on the logistics side of things rather than to queue up for what would undoubtedly be an awkward visit to the hospital bedsides. He didn’t imagine there was anything he could say to bring Estela comfort, so he cared for her in the only way he knew how-- at a safe distance.

  __________________________

“Taylor… it’s me. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m right here. I’m right here, baby. Please… please just give me something, just a little movement to tell me you’re still with me. Taylor? Please. I’m… scared. I don’t know what I’m gonna do if you can’t come back to me. Taylor…”

There was no response, just cold, lonely silence. Tears in her eyes, Estela pressed a kiss to her wife’s forehead. “It’s okay… you can take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

There was a creak as the door opened, and she instinctively bristled. As much as she appreciated that their friends wanted to be near, she just wanted to be left alone… to feel close to Taylor… to even begin to wrap her head around all that had happened.

“You mind if I sit with her?” Diego asked hesitantly.

Estela didn’t look around. If anyone could understand how much she was hurting, it would be Diego. At any rate, Taylor would have wanted him there. If Estela was her soulmate, Diego was the next closest thing. “Go ahead.”

Diego moved the chair around to Taylor’s side of the bed and sat down. It was hard to look at her, and within minutes, his eyes began welling up. “I, uh, asked Varyyn to try and reach her with his mind.” He heaved a painful sigh. “Nothing. He couldn’t find a trace of her.”

The words hit Estela like a kick in the guts. If Varyyn couldn’t make contact telepathically, it seemed impossible that Taylor could hear her pleas for her to wake up. For a long while, the two friends held vigil in silence, which Estela eventually broke, needing to ensure Diego understood why… even while she didn’t herself.

“She didn’t want to put you through this… she hated it,” she said quietly. “There just wasn’t another way to put things right.”

“You should’ve stopped her…” The words tumbled out before Diego could help himself. He glanced worriedly to Estela.

Estela said nothing, wondering if he was right. Staring past Diego to the sea beyond the window, she let herself escape back to a happier time. She could hear Taylor’s laughter ringing in her mind as she playfully ran and splashed through the shallows. But Taylor could not have remained happy knowing that she could heal her friends’ hurt. Could Estela have convinced her to stay? Perhaps, but it would only have brought suffering. Estela had suffered before; she’d try to survive it again if it meant sparing Taylor that burden. Besides, Taylor had stood by her when she’d been walking her own trail to self-destruction, never wavering, offering advice but never pushing. She’d owed her the same faith and trust. Now oblivious to Diego’s presence, Estela snuggled closer and lovingly brushed Taylor’s cheek with the backs of her fingers.

Diego watched the show of affection as the tears kept coming. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Tentatively, he reached out to put his hand on Taylor’s, while trying to gage Estela’s response to what might be perceived as an intrusion. She glanced back to him, her expression soft, before focusing her attention back to her wife. “I should thank you for taking care of her all this time. I wish I could have been there for her, but she had you. It would have meant everything.”

Estela gave a small, appreciative nod, but remained quiet. Totally drained, trying to engage was simply too much. Diego was prone to bouts of verbal diarrhea, but for now, shell-shocked by the condition of his best friend, he seemed able to take the hint.

Together they continued a silent vigil. Exhaustion getting the better of him, Diego eventually fell asleep draped over Taylor’s weakly rising and falling chest. Estela, however, would not allow herself to close her eyes for fear of any change. Settling in for the long haul, she put an arm around Diego’s slumbering form and buried her face in Taylor’s silky blonde hair. She would keep her safe.

 ___________________________

Night fell, with no change in Taylor’s condition. By this point, she’d received visits from the whole gang at one time or another, though these were kept brief for Estela’s benefit, and the collection of flowers by her bedside was already growing steadily as a result. Only Diego, Michelle and Quinn, who had been there from the beginning, were around for extended periods.

“Hey,” Zahra said dryly as she pushed the door open.

Estela ignored her for several long moments before finally acknowledging that she had company. “I’m guessing you’re on the night-shift,” she stated.

“Insomnia’s got it’s uses.” Zahra wandered over cautiously, then reached out to ruffle Taylor’s hair. “Still holding out on us, Tayls? And I thought I was the uncooperative asshole.”

Estela twitched, fighting with the urge to swat the newcomer away. She really was not in the mood.

“So, uh,” Zahra broached, “you think she can hear us?”

No response. Zahra sat down on the other bed, crossing her legs. She was already regretting that she’d signed up for this. It looked as though she could look forward to long hours of uncomfortable silence. What was she supposed to say to Estela? Nice was not her forte. She sighed heavily as her eyes rested on the two women in the bed beside hers. Taylor was so still, and Estela looked… afraid. Zahra didn’t think she’d ever seen her look scared, not like that. It was kind of unnerving.

“Hey, Estela… you can sleep, okay? I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You can trust me. You know Meech is gonna flip her shit if you don’t rest. If anything changes at all, I’ll wake you.”

Estela rolled over just a little, glancing towards Zahra. There was something like kindness in Zahra’s expression. Someone was way out of her depth. “If I fall asleep, I fall asleep. But I don’t see it happening. I want to know if anything changes.”

“I get it. But at least you don’t have to force yourself to stay awake.”

“Thanks,” Estela spoke softly, her voice a little muffled as she buried her face in Taylor’s hair. “Sweet dreams, Taylor,” she whispered. With a small kiss, she closed her eyes but fought to remain focused on the sound and feel of her wife’s breathing. Her whole body felt heavy; she’d not slept since their anniversary night… it felt a lifetime ago now. But she was so tired… so very, very tired…

Estela leapt awake in the split second that a high-pitched beeping began to sound. “Taylor!” Before she had a chance to properly come to, she took Taylor in her arms, feeling immediately what the alarm had told her; that she’d once again stopped breathing. “Get Michelle- now!” she cried, and desperately began compressions. Come on… come on…

Michelle burst back into the room as Estela was doing mouth-to-mouth. She watched intently, but gave her space, ready to jump in if needed. The monitor’s reading picked up, and she realised that she’d been holding her own breath as she watched for Taylor’s.

“Let me take a look…”

“I can feel her pulse” Estela panted, stepping aside just enough to let Michelle in. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest.

“She’s breathing,” Michelle said with a nod. “You did great; you acted fast.” She was impressed, but not really surprised. Estela could always be relied upon to be level-headed and capable in a crisis. Her eyes, though, were filled with panic. Michelle reached out and drew her into her arms. “Deep breaths….”

Estela pulled away angrily. “I’m fine.” She couldn’t sleep now. Trembling, she lay down on the bed, pressing her body protectively against Taylor’s. She stroked away the blonde hair from her face and kissed her cheek. That had been so close. So close. She’d felt Taylor dead beneath her hands, beneath her lips. It could happen again at any second. She whispered lovingly against her ear. “Don’t scare me like that…”

“Look,” said Michelle, “I’m gonna sleep in the other bed. If it happens again, I’ll be on it in a second. But you need to rest.”

“I’m in bed, aren’t I?”

Michelle huffed. “Don’t fight me. We don’t know how long she’s going to be in this condition. If we have a crisis, Taylor will be a lot better off if you’re not a sleep-deprived wreck.” She thought she caught a growl. “You know I’m right.”

Knowing was one thing, but that didn’t make it easy. Waking suddenly to find Taylor slipping away… even for Estela to close her eyes felt impossible after that. Letting her guard down had almost killed Taylor; she’d failed her. How could she ever sleep again? Next time, she might be lost for good. She breathed in the scent of Taylor’s hair, and felt overwhelmed with love. But love became fear.

“Estela, close your eyes. I need you to trust me.”

Something in those words stirred the stricken Estela. She trusted Michelle with her life. But Taylor’s life meant so much more.

“Estela! Do as you’re told, for once in your life!”

Zahra couldn’t hold back a snicker. “There’s no way in hell you’d be that brave if she didn’t have a banged-up leg…”

“Shut up, Zahra! Estela, please. I swear I’ll take care of her… but she needs you to be taken care of too. Please. Close your eyes.”

Scowling, but knowing in her heart of hearts that her friend was right, Estela obliged. There was nothing for it but to tell herself that her wife was in safe hands. She tried to imagine that this was just any other night. Taylor was just sleeping in her arms, safe and content. She made a little grumbling sound but relented. “I trust you.”

A couple of hours later, a bored Zahra sat herself on the bed beside Taylor. Estela had reluctantly dropped off to sleep a little while after Michelle, leaving Zahra with the responsibility of keeping Taylor safe solely on her shoulders. As she looked over her friend, her heart felt heavy. All those months ago, she’d wanted to go home-- she hadn’t wanted it at the expense of a good person, someone who she cared about. If any of them had known, they’d have tried to talk Taylor out of it… though of course that would have been why the idiot kept the plan a secret for so long.

Estela blinked awake, and protectively clutched Taylor closer to her chest. She was just so tired, but she was too alert, too anxious to settle.

At the sight of Estela stirring, Zahra moved back, defensive. She scowled instinctively, preparing to be slapped away, but her expression quickly softened. “I… didn’t mean to disturb you.” While the other woman appeared tense, a frown etched onto her face, she seemed accepting of the company. “It’s just weird, you know… it’s been a day or so, but I miss her. She seems far away. Everything that’s going on, she’d be in the middle of it fixing everyone’s stupid problems. Damn Taylor, always the one to hold us all together; without her everything feels… different. I can’t even explain it.”

Estela’s body relaxed a little, and she sat up, intently staring at her companion.

“Good to see you’ve still got your serial killer stare on top form.”

Embarrassed, Estela averted her gaze. “You almost sounded nice for a moment there.”

Zahra sat back on the end of the bed and crossed her legs. “It’s not as if anyone else can hear. Besides, it’s gonna be a long night if I’m just sitting here in silence watching you sulk.” She paused, self-conscious. “I don’t go around caring about a lot of people. You and Taylor… you matter to me. To be honest, I’m pissed. This whole sacrifice thing is bullshit. Maybe the best person I’ve ever known, and she’s basically been forced to kill herself. It’s seriously screwed up.”

“You’re not wrong.” Estela sighed heavily, flashes of memory whirling through her head. Taylor had been so, so brave; but she never should have had to be. “She did it for you. All of you. Which kinda makes it worse; someone who cares that much shouldn’t be taken away. If she’s gone, I… I don’t know where I go from here….”

For a long while, Zahra said nothing. Probably, she imagined, this might be where two less emotionally repressed people might hug it out. A silent battle raged in her head, before finally, hesitantly, she crawled forward. “C’mere,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact, while drawing Estela towards her. Strong arms grasped hold of her, the grip painful. She patted her roughly on the back. “For someone so smart, you can be a real dumbass. Whatever happens, we’ve got you, all right? And that’s coming from me.”

Estela slumped against Zahra, taking deep breaths. Everything might fall apart at any moment, but at least she was not alone. Again, it was all because of Taylor. Had it not been for Taylor’s open heart, she couldn’t imagine having the courage to build the bonds she now relied on, to love her friends so deeply. She came away, offering Zahra just a nod of understanding.

With a glance over to Michelle, Zahra moved to get up. “Look, it’s pretty obvious you’re not sleeping anytime soon. Meech looks dead to the world-- I could sneak you a coffee. Or something stronger.” A mischievous grin flitted across her face.

“I could really use a rum right now… but I’ve gotta stay alert. You know… just in case.”

“Eh, another time. One caffeine hit coming right up….”

A little while later, she returned with two steaming mugs.

“Colombian, just for you. If you could down it before the doc wakes up and puts my head on a pike, I’d appreciate it.”

“She’d have to go through me first.”

“Aaayyyy, there’s that scary bitch I love!” Zahra sat on the foot of the bed and leaned in to chink her mug to Estela’s. She almost, almost caught the shadow of a smile. “Here’s to getting through; one long, night of hell at a time.”

Estela looked sadly at Taylor, lying still beside her. “One night at a time…” she murmured.

 ______________________________

  The next day brought more of the same; a steady stream of visitors to Taylor’s bedside, while arrangements were made to deal with the broader aftermath of the Catalysts’ time on La Huerta. Estela feigned sleep for most of the day, not having the energy to socialise with well-meaning friends. The occasional dumbass comment from the likes of Craig brought her close to sitting up and chasing them off, but it simply took too much effort. She just lay there quietly as they talked to Taylor, offering their heartfelt thanks and expressing their care and concern. Even as she lay unconscious and broken, Taylor seemed to be the go-to listening ear. Completely drained, Estela would have preferred everyone would just back off. They had their families back- they should leave her with what time she had left with her family. The love and care they showed was deeply appreciated, but she was just so tired. Raj, at least, had come bearing a piled-up plate of patacones with an array of toppings. Somewhat suspiciously as far as Michelle was concerned, Estela had been wide awake for his visit. Still, she reasoned, at least her patient was eating, even if she point-blank refused to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. Small victories….

The woman who’d saved the world kept herself at the centre of everyone’s attention, firstly when she caused another scare --the fifth by Estela’s count-- and secondly as a result of her inconvenient official non-existence. Every room she’d stayed in at the Celestial was being methodically ransacked with the hope of recovering a passport. Vaanu had conjured her luggage, so the hope was that somewhere, some hind of official documentation would exist. Zahra was confident that she could get into a government computer and put something together, but there was the unfortunate hurdle being that Taylor was not awake to have a passport photo taken. Quietly, Diego was not averse to the idea of his best friend remaining with him and Varyyn on La Huerta, but he cared for her freedom of choice, and diligently led the search team. After almost giving up, he did a go-over of Taylor and Estela’s hut, and found a shiny new passport beneath a pillow, belonging to one ‘Taylor Montoya’. He gave a happy cry; the name on the document told him that it couldn’t have been created on the plane journey to the island… Vaanu must have had some hope that she’d survive her sacrifice if they’d left a ticket home as a parting gift.

With a wonderful new sense of optimism, he hurried to Elyys’tel to share the discovery with Estela.

For most of the day, Estela had been despondent. Taylor was existing on a knife edge, and she couldn’t bear it. Hearing her friends relaying conversations they’d had with their loved ones, unable to hide their excitement, it made her heart ache for Taylor. She’d done that. She’d literally given them the world. But a what the hell was the point of a world if Taylor wasn’t in it? While her friends were taking their lives back, Estela could literally feel hers slipping away. When Diego handed her the passport, it was like salt being poured in the wound. ‘Taylor Montoya’? They’d never had a chance to be a family together. What did they need a passport for anyway? Taylor wasn’t going anywhere. She was so damn weak that a stiff wind would probably finish her off, if she didn’t simply stop breathing one time too many.

“Estela?”

She pushed the passport back into Diego’s hand. “Uh, thanks.”

“You don’t get it-- this wouldn’t have your name on it if Taylor had it the whole time. Vaanu must have given her this when she gave their essence back… she’s meant to come home!”

Estela’s expression was stony. His positivity was that of someone who hadn’t sat awake for most of the night ready for the next close call. He didn’t --couldn’t-- understand.

Getting the hint, Diego left, giving one last kiss to Taylor’s forehead. He edged past Jake, who was hovering in the doorway, having pointedly not taken the hint.

“What’s with the face, Katniss? You’re gonna scare off all your girl’s visitors.”

“If only.”

“Look, it’s been a rough ride, but you two always come up fighting. I’ve got the bruises to prove it. She’s got this.”

Estela growled. “So, we’ve got another doctor? You? It’s pretty clear Taylor’s not going home. If you can’t offer anything that actually helps, just leave us alone.”

“Wait, you’re serious? You’ve actually given up…?”

Her eyes closed, Estela’s mind flashed with the traumatic memory of Taylor writhing in agony as the light overtook her. “We can’t do anything….”

“This sure as hell ain’t you. Since when do you give up on anything? And this is Princess…”

Turning on a hair, Estela suddenly snapped, throwing a mug that narrowly missed Jake’s head, smashing instead against the wall. “Get out!”

“Woah-- wha--?”

“Get out right now, or I will come over there and make you get out!”

Jake recoiled, startled. “Easy, Katniss… I didn’t mean…”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you have any idea what this has been like? Feeling her stop breathing again, and again… how many more times? Am I supposed to be pushed to the brink over and over, and act like it’s okay? Just get the fuck outta my face, asshole.”

Michelle burst into the room, having heard shouting. “What’s--?”

Singed by the glare that bore into him from the bed, Jake slipped towards the door. “I’m leaving… I….” He paused. There was nothing he could say that wouldn’t simply add fuel to the fire, however pure his intentions. He dared meet Estela’s eyes, seeing only fury, but hoping that she’d still feel a friend looking back. With a silent nod, he moved past Michelle and left.

“Estela….”

Her face buried in her hands and shoulders heaving, Estela shook her head. “Just go. I need to be alone.”

  __________________________

For the next day or so, everyone kept their distance, with no one visiting except when trying to convince Estela to sleep properly. By the time a generously paid doctor made a house call from the mainland, Taylor had survived yet another brief heart-stopping moment, but the professional opinion was to simply keep on doing what was being done. Michelle was pleased with the progress that had been made. Taylor remained fragile, there was no doubt about that, but her pulse and breathing rate had generally improved considerably. If anything, the immediate concern was more for Estela, who seemed to be retreating deeper into herself.

“Hey, Estela,” Diego, on night duty, slumped into the chair, exhausted. He’d nervously kept clear for a little while, but he couldn’t stay away from his stricken friend for long. Such was the nature of his relationship with Taylor, that Estela was far more tolerant of him hanging around her than she was anyone else-- except for when Raj brought food. “Taylor’s not been getting up to trouble since I’ve been gone?”

“Still the same,” Estela murmured. She edged over and gently moved Taylor with her, leaving a space on the bed. “You can sit with her if you like.”

That was new. With an appreciative smile, Diego joined them. There was barely enough room, but it felt wonderful to properly get his arms around his dearest friend. Beside them, Estela closed her eyes with a sigh.

“You know, she looks better,” he said. “It’s probably hard to see when you’re stuck to her like glue twenty-four-seven, but she doesn’t look like she needs to fight so hard.”

“Michelle said that. Part of me thinks she’s just trying to trick me into letting my guard down.” Estela had been so reluctant to believe it, fearful of getting her hopes up after so many close calls.

Diego looked over her with concern in his eyes. She looked a wreck, her eyes outlined with dark rings, her hair unkempt. It was hardly a surprise. From the small pieces of information he’d managed to extract, Taylor’s sacrifice had been planned many months ago. Estela had kept it together for an awfully long time, no doubt to make it easier on her partner. Sooner or later, it had to catch up with her.

“How’s your leg?”

“Fine.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

Estela just shrugged her shoulders. For a long time, they sat in silence, Diego wondering how he could break through the barriers that only seemed to be getting higher.

“It must be weird… everyone talking to people back home. All happy, excited. I mean, they care about Taylor, they love her, but there’s that nice bit of comfort to take the edge off.”

Finally stirred, Estela opened her eyes and sat up a little. “I’m happy for them. But… it feels so far away. Not important. I can’t even call my tio while she’s like this.” She paused, considering Diego quietly. “You… haven’t called home?”

He shook his head sadly. “It’s stupid, right? Spend all this time crying over losing my family, but they get resurrected and --whoosh-- back to rejection city. I’m happy they’re okay… I just don’t think I can handle them right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Diego sighed. “Don’t be… it’s been long enough, I know how it is.”

“Bet you could really use your best friend right now. She’d know what to say.”

“Yeah, but at least I can give her a hug. I really believe she’s gonna wake up. I mean, she’s come this far.” He gave a dry laugh. “I just wish she’d do us all a favour and get on with it… but I’m pretty sure if she was here, she’d tell you to stop being so freaking stubborn and get some sleep.”

Estela rolled her eyes. “Maybe.” She looked over at Diego, her brow furrowed. “What’s wrong with your parents? Is it just… uh… the whole gay thing?”

“Eh, mostly. But even before I came out, I was never what they wanted. ‘Wasting my life away on childish nonsense’, ‘out of touch with the real world’, all of that. When they found out I liked guys, I guess that was just one massive disappointment too many.” Self-conscious, his cheeks flushed, and he awkwardly looked away. It suddenly occurred to him that he’d very rarely had one-on-one conversations with Estela-- aside from when they’d speak Spanish together for the sole purpose of teasing Taylor who was very far from bilingual. He’d certainly never delved into anything sensitive.

“I don’t get it,” Estela said. “Maybe I’ve spent too long here, where no one gives a damn, but it just seems so tiny a reason to turn on someone you love. You don’t deserve that. You’re a good person, one of the best.”

“Thanks,” said Diego with a weak smile. “See, you’re not all that bad at the best friend pep talk. I could hire you as a short-term fill-in.”

“No.”

He laughed. “You didn’t… know… you know, before Taylor?” he ventured. “That you liked girls? No one in your family would have known?”

As if by reflex, Estela held Taylor a little closer. “I didn’t have feelings like that for anyone. There wasn’t room in my life for that. I mean, there still wasn’t room when Taylor came along, but for her… it didn’t matter anymore. She was just… special, I guess. I don’t even know what Tio Nicolas would think. He has strong opinions about things.”

“Like you.”

“Almost. He still can’t beat me in an argument. But I think he would be okay. He’s seen a lot of war, and hate, people dying. When you’ve got that perspective, it doesn’t make any sense to get riled up over someone loving another person.”

Diego was thoughtful for a moment. “Huh. Maybe if San Trobida has another civil war, you should enlist my parents.”

In spite of herself, Estela chuckled. “If they fight like you? Not a chance in hell.” With a glance to Taylor’s still face, she caught herself and sighed. Was she improving? Afraid to hope, she struggled to see it. But Diego did. It was clear in his face. Once in despair, he now looked at Taylor as if there was something left in her. There had to be. What the alternative was, Estela couldn’t bear to fathom.

“Hey…” Diego said gently, nudging Estela’s shoulder, “she’d want you to take care of yourself. She’s been stable for more than a day now; I think the worst is over. Go take a shower, put on some fresh clothes, and actually get some rest. You’ll feel better, and maybe you won’t feel the need to throw projectiles at visitors anymore. Otherwise, poor Taylor’s gonna wake up to a miserable, stinky zombie in her bed, and I’ll have to go through the trouble of getting you two together all over again.”

Estela gave him a filthy look. She hesitated, but then gingerly got out of bed. “You won’t leave her…”

“Not a chance.” As she limped out the door, Diego thought to himself, I absolutely cannot believe that worked.

 _____________________________

It was some twelve hours later when Estela finally awoke, properly rested after several days of what she was pretty sure amounted to torture. Taylor was fine. No scares. It was clearly not over, not by a long shot, but the hope she felt was no longer false-- simple, angry defiance… it was real. Just maybe, Taylor might be strong enough to come back to her. Even as she thought it, though, she held herself back. You can’t drop your guard. She could be gone at any moment.

There were footsteps outside the door, then a voice. “Knock, knock?”

Estela felt heat rising behind her ears. Jake. This could be awkward. “You can come in,” she grumbled.

“No weapons on hand?” When he received no response, Jake entered the room. “It’s been a while… thought I’d better check in.” He looked her over cautiously, trying to read Estela’s mood. It would be so much easier if she didn’t have a near-permanent frown. He approached the bed, uncomfortably avoiding eye contact. “Look, I…”

“Wait! I uh… I…” She gave a little huff, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It was never about you. I just couldn’t hold the anger back anymore.”

“Hey, I know that. I’m sorry for the most spectacularly flubbed pep talk in recent history. Honestly, Katniss, after everything you’ve been dealt, I reckon you’re entitled to a dummy spit. We’re just lucky it was me; if you’d unleashed that on Brainstrust, she’d still be cryin’ now.”

“Grace wouldn’t be stupid enough to go around pushing my buttons. But it… means a lot, you know, that you understand.” Estela’s shoulders slumped. It all seemed to catch up with her all at once. The weight of her sadness, and that gut-churning fear. “It didn’t make me feel any better. This isn’t your fault… it’s not anyone’s fault. There’s no one to hunt down, to punish for this.”

“Ya know, I don’t think she’d want that for you anyway.”

“No. She wouldn’t. But I don’t know what to do.” Estela looked into Jake’s face searchingly.

“Look, I… I don’t have the answers for ya. But I’m not goin’ anywhere. We can talk, get a back and forth goin’. Sooner or later, our Princess’ll have to wake up just to tell me to shut my smartass mouth.”

Estela gave a rare smile, even as she rolled her eyes. “Cabron…” And then, seemingly out of nowhere, the tears came, fast and uncontrollable.

For a moment, Jake froze, but then he sat beside her and rubbed her back as she dissolved into sobs. “’S all right. But please don’t tell her I made you cry…”

Estela laughed through her tears but couldn’t keep them from coming. So much had been bottled up for too long. After an age, the tears slowed, and she was left hiccoughing into her friend’s shoulder.

“Feel better?”

“Maybe… a little. I’m just… sorry I lost my shit with you. This has just been…” She shuddered.

“Water under the bridge. But, if you wanna talk…? The usual host of sharin’ circle can’t be with us, but I’ll try and keep the sarcastic comments to a minimum.”

Estela nodded, but for a long while remained quiet. Some things she didn’t talk about, not to anyone. Not to anyone except for Taylor. But, she told herself, Taylor was right there with her. She grasped her wife’s soft hands gently.

“This… isn’t easy….”

“Ya don’t have to--“

“No, I… I do.” She took a deep breath. “So… uh…just before I got the letter saying my mother had died, she wrote to me, begging for help. She knew her life was in danger, that she was running out of time. Tio Nicolas and I did everything we could, but there was no getting anyone in or out of La Huerta without going through Rourke. I’d been trained all my life to take care of myself, but the only person I wanted to protect was so far away, and scared… and I couldn’t reach her. This… feels the same. I’m helpless, Jake. I can see Taylor right there in front of me, but she might as well be miles away. And the whole damn time I know that any second she could be ripped away from me forever, like Mom was. I can’t stand it.”

Jake rubbed her shoulder pacifyingly. “I think I’m getting why you took my head off…”

“Touchy area, yeah. For so long I wasn’t scared of anything, I figured I had nothing to lose. But then I found Taylor. And now…”

“… now you’re basically re-living your worst nightmare come true.”

Estela bit her lip, holding back from crying, and nodded. “It must have been like this for you… with Mike. I’m sorry. I just… miss her.”

For a few moments, Jake was quiet, forced into reflection. He certainly did know that feeling; having survived what should have been the worst trauma of his life, only to go through it all over again. Meeting Estela’s eyes, he felt the understanding that flowed between him and her. “Hug it out?”

Comforting as the embrace of a good friend was, it was hard for Estela not to yearn for Taylor even more. No one could hold her the way she used to. Taylor could put her arms around her and somehow ease every pain in her heart. The only other person who had that healing touch upon Estela had been her mother. But Jake… he cared, and it meant a lot.

“She’s comin’ through this, all right? It’s just a damn shame she’s deaf to your snoring… anyone else would’ve woken up by now and smothered you with a pillow.”

“I don’t-“

Jake snorted. “Got it, got it. My mistake. I’m obviously confusing you with some other freight train.”

Estela smiled appreciatively and held tighter. “I’m not giving up. I might lose my mind, but it doesn’t matter how long it takes. I won’t leave her.”

“So, we’ll keep talkin’ to her. She’ll hear. I mean, this is our Princess. Listening to everyone offload their shit on her is pretty much her thing.”

“I hope you’re right.” Estela said softly. She leaned back over to her wife and lovingly stroked a strand of hair from her face before kissing her brow. “You’ll come back to us, Taylor. There are a lot of people missing you right now. I miss you. I miss you every goddamn minute of every day.”

Jake reached his hand out to take Taylor’s. “We’re not leaving you in peace, so you’d better get used to the idea. Sort yourself out, Princess. You might have brought the world back, but there’s no way in hell we’re leavin’ crazy island without you.”