4.6 | Dark Ages ✓

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SHE COMES TO him in the middle of the night.

Instead of curling up next to him like she always does, she settles down on the chair by his makeshift bed. He's awake-of course he is, how can he sleep when he's counting down the hours until she leaves him?-and he props himself up on one elbow to stare at her.

Under the dim light, he can see that she's already fading. Gone is the lovely pallor of her cheeks; in its place is a shade paler than normal. Her eyes are duller, even though they still haven't lost their spark; and her hands tremble-just the slightest of tremors, but noticeable to someone as observant as him.

Sensing the direction of his gaze, she firmly tucks her hands beneath her thighs. "He's gone back to the lab," she says conversationally, as though they're discussing nothing of consequence. "He's making a last attempt at finding a cure before tomorrow."

He finds that he admires the determination of his other self. Pulling aside the blanket, he gestures her into his bed. "Come here."

Hesitation flits across her features. "I-I don't think it's the best idea," she says at last. "I'm...my body is colder, you see. He said so earlier. And I'm not sure if...what if I suddenly turn vicious while I'm right next to you?"

"I'll risk it."

He doesn't give her the chance to argue. Reaching forward, he pulls her into his arms and onto his bed. She lets out a startled sound, unable to react to his swiftness. His legs intertwine with hers, and he loops one arm loosely around her waist, keeping his other beneath her head. She does seem colder; and he's close enough to feel the sudden tremor that wracks through her body.

Worry flashes in her eyes, even as her lips twitch with amusement. Eventually, her body relaxes against his, and she reaches up to tuck her hands under the pillow. "I didn't save you so that you could throw your life away, Taehyung," she says softly. "Promise me that when you go back to the future, you'll treasure it. I want you to be happy."

He swallows. "I don't know how to. I don't know how to without you."

"You'll find a way, I'm sure. You have your family. That's a good place to start."

Yes, but they're not you. No one will ever be you.

Sudden tears sting his eyes and, this time, he can't keep them from falling. "I wish you hadn't saved me," he admits, with raw honesty. "I wish-fuck, I really wish that I had been the one to be bitten. It would hurt so much less knowing that you could be in the future, instead of me."

Her eyes glisten, but she drags in a deep breath and brings a hand to his face. Gently, she brushes her thumb across the tears staining his cheek. "Don't you know that my life was never mine to begin with?" she asks. "From the moment you saved my mother, my life was in your hands. You saved me again and again and again. I exist because of you."

No, he thinks. I exist because of you.

She is really the one who saved him-not just from the zombies, but from the world, the guilt, himself. She had stayed with him when the world was full of monsters, had loved him when he believed himself to be a monster, and had saved him from the monsters.

Overwhelmed by emotion, he lets out a slow breath, and turns his head to press his lips against the palm of her hand. She shivers; he revels in it, loving how her body still reacts to him even when it's almost taken over by something else.