𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

it's been you all along🦚

Location: Iron Lion, hallway near the infirmary — late afternoon.

Vicky wasn't expecting her.

She had just stepped out of the infirmary, a tray of teas in her hands, her hair a mess, her sweater slightly too big over her growing belly. The hall was warm with golden light and the scent of herbs.

She almost bumped into Bea. "Whoa!"

"Sorry," Bea murmured, then froze.

They stared at each other.

Vicky blinked, a little stunned. It had been weeks. No... longer. Bea had barely spoken more than a sentence to her since the funeral.

Bea looked smaller somehow. Her bow was slung across her back, but her eyes, amber and raw didn't hold that fire she used to burn with.

"Do you have a second?" Bea asked quietly.

Vicky set the tray down without a word.

They sat on the old bench in the corridor, the walls still faintly scarred from the last WCKD raid. Dust floated in the air.

Silence stretched between them.

Bea fidgeted with her fingers. "I wasn't ready to talk. To anyone."

Vicky's voice was soft. "You don't have to explain."

"I do."

Her voice cracked. "You deserved more. I just... shut down."

Vicky reached over, placing her hand gently on Bea's.

"You were grieving."

Bea swallowed hard. "I didn't even ask how you were doing. After everything — your mom, the war, the baby. I wasn't there."

"I knew you couldn't be," Vicky said. "That's the thing about grief, Bea. It makes you believe you're alone, even when you're not."

Bea's eyes shimmered. "I missed you. So much it hurt."

Vicky gave a shaky little laugh, eyes glinting with emotion. "We've all been waiting. You didn't lose us, Bea. We're still here. I'm still here."

A long pause. Bea leaned her head on Vicky's shoulder, like they used to do after long patrols. Vicky rested her head on Bea's.

"It's okay to come back now," Vicky whispered.

"I want to," Bea whispered back.

And just like that — it wasn't fixed, but it was healing.