𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

(b.n) after the storm

Moments after Bea and Nico survive the ambush.

The sky was still growling, distant thunder fading behind the retreat of WCKD's forces. Rainwater streamed down Nico's temple, cutting paths through the soot and blood.

Bea staggered slightly as she tried to stand on her own. Her knee buckled.

"Whoa—hey, hey." Nico caught her around the waist, arm steady even as his shoulder screamed in protest. "I got you."

"M'fine," she muttered.

"That's a lie." 

She huffed, leaning into him anyway.

They moved through the broken terrain together, debris, half-shattered trees, remnants of the supply crates they were supposed to recover. The air smelled of ozone and ash. Everything was ruined.

And quiet. Too quiet.

"Do you think the others made it?" she asked, voice low.

"They had cover. Vincent radioed a fallback point before the comms cut out." He hesitated. "We'll find them."

Bea said nothing. She just kept walking, limping, eyes cast down.

Until Nico tugged her to a stop beneath the stone remains of an archway. What used to be an outpost wall, now blackened by fire. A little pocket of stillness in the chaos.

"Bea."

"Yeah?"

He reached for her hands, still shaking slightly from adrenaline and held them between his.

"What you said... back there. About having to survive. I meant it too."

"I know."

"No, I mean," he struggled for words. "That fortune teller was right. I keep choosing you. Every damn time. Even when I shouldn't. Even when it's dangerous."

She looked up at him. Her expression unreadable. "Then don't stop," she said quietly. "Because I don't think I can either."

And she kissed him.

Not careful. Not gentle. Just alive.

The kiss was messy and wet from the rain, and his hands slid up to her face with a kind of desperation, like she'd slip through his fingers if he wasn't holding tight enough. 

They kissed like they'd both nearly died... because they had.

When they broke apart, neither said anything for a moment. Just breathed.

Then Bea tilted her head back, laughing softly. "God, Thomas is going to kill you."

"Worth it," Nico said.

She leaned against his chest. "We should go. The others will be looking."

"You sure you can walk?"

"If you start carrying me I swear I'll stab you with what's left of my arrow."

"Kinda hot, not gonna lie."

"Shut up."

And they set off again, soaked, hurting, alive, into whatever came next.