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It was sick to think this way, really.
How could Brenda, alive and safe and here, just stare at this expanse of paradise, and think nothing but “If it was anyone else…”
It’s not like Brenda would have sacrificed anyone else for Teresa. She couldn’t and wouldn’t do that. But the thought that out of all of these people, it just had to be her that couldn’t make it? None of that seemed even remotely fair. Brenda had just gotten her back, only for Teresa to slip through her weary fingers once more. Once more and for good. And to think she was forced to call this place Paradise. As if she’d ever have the heart to call anything paradise without Teresa right next to her.
She didn’t even have anything here from Teresa other than the scars she had gotten while protecting her all these years and the clear blue skies that reminded her of the color of Teresa’s eyes.
This place is everything a person would dream of. If you think about it, it was everything she dreamed of. The soft grass, the mountain breeze, chilly bonfire nights, the crashing of the waves against the rocks… All of it was never within her reach, especially as a girl who grew up into a world-turned-desert. When you come from nothing but scalding heat and thirst, you dream of a paradise like this one.
But Brenda has grown cynical. The sound of children’s laughter didn’t melt her heart into ease. The sight of families forming didn’t give her hope. Even after everything she has entrusted into Chancellor Paige, her doubt in this so-called Safe Haven has once more grown like a bitter seed in her heart. It made her feel guilty to think about it, but she was already mentally planning what she should do – what they all should do – when all this is taken away again.
I mean, she should take the lead, right? After all, ever since she lost Teresa, she of all people knows what it’s like to lose paradise.
+
It’s been six months, and she wants to say the rough patch is over. It isn’t.
Just because she doesn’t cry herself to sleep anymore, just because she can stand not storming off when someone mentions Teresa, just because she is no longer thinking of the numbness in her heart 24/7, doesn’t mean the rough patch is over. It’s more than a rough patch, it’s like a piece of her pissing and she keeps getting cut by the jagged edges of the gap.
As she sat cross-legged on the sand, looking after a handful of children playing on the shore, she can’t help but feel emptier than usual. They were chasing and running away from the waves repeatedly, shrieking gleefully every time they dodge a close call. Brenda always helped in dealing with the younger ones, in hope that she’ll find some sort of peace or joy in growing attached to them. But now, even as she looked at their arms spread wide and their smiles reaching to their bright eyes, all she can think of is how even the purest kind of innocence can wash away quicker than the waves erase their footprints. She found herself hoping these kids get way more time than she and Teresa ever did.
“Need help?”
She looked up and found Sonya, settling next to her.
Brenda chuckled, shaking her head. “Do I look like I’m putting in effort to keep these kids in line?”
Sonya shrugged. “I wasn’t really talking about the kids, but okay then.”
The smile in Brenda’s face disappeared again, and she turned away, focusing on the kids running around the beach. “Don’t.”
In her periphery, she could see Sonya putting her hands up defensively. “Easy there, I haven’t said anything.”
“You don’t have to. You get this look of pity whenever you judge me.”
“I’m just worried, you know that,” Sonya said. “You can’t blame for worrying.”
“We all lost someone back there, Sonya. If you worry for everyone grieving in this goddamn place, you won’t have enough time to remember we can’t do shit about it,” Brenda muttered bitterly, her hands subconsciously digging deeper into the cold sand.
Sonya nodded slowly, letting a few moments pass. She has turned to look at the view of the sun starting to set slowly, but Brenda could still feel Sonya’s eyes flickering to her direction cautiously.
“You can talk to me about it, you know.”
“I know.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“I don’t.”
“Why not?”
Brenda snorted, shaking her head. “Because it feels shitty, resorting to talking about her when I want to be talking to her.”
“…You know you can’t talk to her anymore, Brenda.”
“And you ask why I don’t want to talk about it.”
+
It’s been a year when Minho said, “Brenda, you take the first night shift with Thomas down at the beach, yeah? Gally’s supposed to cover it, but he had a long day.”
Brenda’s heart sank. “If you’re doing this on purpose, I swear-“
Sighing, Minho just waved off any complaints. “I don’t know what went on between you two that you haven’t talked to him since the day we got here, and, frankly, I couldn’t care less. It’s a three hour shift. You’ll survive.”
“We’re literally the only people in this place. We’ve been here for a year, and nothing has happened.”
“You honestly believe that, after all the shit we’ve been through, we can risk it?”
Brenda opened her mouth to protest, but found that she had nothing to say. Of all people, she should know the dangers of depending too much on optimism. She was just arguing because she’d rather not be left alone with Thomas.
It wasn’t that she hated him. She had long forgiven him with all his bullshit during The Betrayal. She has never actually excused him, but she understood what it must have been like. She definitely didn’t hate him.
She just hated the look on his face. The way he acted.
She hated the way his eye bags were more prominent than most. She hated the way he cringed at the mention of Teresa. She hated his tired smile. She hated his distant expression. She hated the slow way he moved, as if there was something weighing down his feet and staggering his footsteps.
She hated the way looking at him reminded her of how she herself must look like every day since Teresa died.
During their shift, they didn’t talk much. They signalled each other and gestured towards areas they should check. Barely any words were exchanged; it was just a whole lot of “I’ll go check it out” and “We should go see where that noise came from.”
Once they made sure that there wasn’t anyone around – like how it is every night – they just dropped to the sand, sitting cross-legged next to each other. It was only a few more minutes until someone else relieved them of their posts, so Brenda was already ready to stand up without a decent goodbye.
But apparently Thomas had other plans.
“Is it hard for you to sleep at night, too?”
Brenda felt like hitting him, but strangely, she found herself replying. “Yeah.”
He nodded, staring off into the starry horizon, and Brenda thought that was the end of that.
“I still hear her in my head.”
Brenda laughed bitterly. “Every night, right? Just when you’re about to fall asleep?”
Thomas nodded again.
“Me too, Thomas.”
“It’s been a year…” Thomas added, resting his chin on his knees.
“Oh, really?” Brenda asked as if she hasn’t been trying to lose track of the count in her head. Of course she knew.
“I know you hate being around me,” Thomas started to say, “and I know everyone is telling you this – trust me, I know – but if you ever want to talk about it, you know I, out of all people, won’t give you all that ‘Just be thankful she’s in a better place’ bullshit.”
“I know, that,” Brenda replied, not really having the strength to look him in the eye. “I’ll just feel crappy talking about losing her when you’re going through everything I am. Maybe even worse. Whether you understand or not isn’t really my problem. I know you do. You and Teresa were…well, you and Teresa. You loved her.”
Thomas snorted. “And you didn’t?”
Brenda sighed, looking away from him. “Point taken.”
+
It’s been five years, and the rough patch is over.
Minho has lessened the security detail of the place; although the population has practically doubled since they got here, Minho has learned that maybe they can afford to relax about these things. With Minho requiring less people to be part of security unless there are any storms – which aren’t even that bad when they do come – Brenda has spent the past few years being part of the Medjacks.
She poured all of herself into her job, and it’s been good for her, especially since it reinforced that it’s okay that she’s thinking less and less of Teresa.
Brenda still loved her, and there’s still a dull ache in her heart she can’t shake when she thinks about the day she lost Teresa. However, she has been taking a slow but sure path on recovery.
Eventually, the unease between Thomas and Brenda even disappeared. It took a while for them to realize that the fact they remind each other of Teresa isn’t a bad thing. It’s just something that will just keep their memories of her fresher. Being with each other has become second nature. She wasn’t in love with him like everyone else suspected – she didn’t think she was capable loving someone that way after Teresa and being friends with Thomas was important to her – but she did like having him around. It was like a constant reminder that the memory of Teresa didn’t have bitter and painful.
Brenda was finishing up for the day – taking inventory of all their supplies and packing up her things so she could go back to her cabin – when he heard footsteps behind her.
She turned around to find Thomas standing at the doorway with a messenger bag over his shoulder. “Are you done for the day?”
“Yeah, why?” she asked, with her hands planted on her hips.
“Remember the day we got here? Minho was so paranoid he made everyone surrender their weapons and demanded that there should be a shack where he could keep all the weapons on lockdown?”
Brenda grinned. “Even though he was the one who lead these people here? Yeah, I remember him snapping at everyone who tried to get their shit back. Great taste in guys, Thomas.”
“Not the point I was trying to make,” Thomas deadpanned. “Anyway, the shack’s gone all shabby and dusty – no one has gone in it except for him – so I offered to sort it out with Gally, make some repairs and everything. Well, I found something I thought you’d like.”
She chuckled. “Thomas, I’m a doctor – or a Medjack – now. I don’t think the kids would feel safe coming here and seeing I have a gun or…” she trailed off, seeing what Thomas had pulled out of his bag. “…Or a machete,” she finished.
Thomas smiled at her, handing the weapon to Brenda carefully, handle first. “Recognize it?”
The thing had gone all rusty and worn out, but god, did she recognize it. She remembered Teresa stealing it from the storage closet on her floor in WICKED. She remembered getting a heart attack every time she had snuck into Teresa’s room, to find her playing with it, twirling and flipping it around before catching it by the wooden handle. She remembered teaching Teresa how to use it properly, though she had doubted that Teresa would remember any of it after the Swipe. She remembered staying in the control rooms, watching Teresa in the glade – where Brenda had planted the machete because she knew Teresa needed it – fighting Grievers off with it.
Brenda just nodded, as she gingerly took it from Thomas. “How is it…I mean…”
“I don’t remember if she had it when she…I don’t know, she must have lost it on the way, and one of the others must have found it and just in case they needed to fight off anyone on the way to the Flat Trans. And since Minho had all the weapons surrendered, it ended up there,” Thomas replied, understanding what Brenda meant.
Brenda just stared at it, and then at Thomas. “And you don’t want it?”
Thomas mouth twitched. “My last memory about that thing is Teresa pointing it at me as she threatened me. I don’t exactly have any attachments to it. Don’t worry,” he assured. Then, he added, “Besides, something tells me she meant you to have it. Check the handle.”
Brenda raised her eyebrows at him, questioningly, before dropping her gaze to the wooden handle. She ran her gloved hand slowly around it, feeling a few scratches along the slight finger groove. Turning it over, Brenda found what Thomas meant. Right into the wood, Teresa had carved a small “B” on it.
Holding back a gasp, Brenda bit her lip and shook her head. “What a nerd,” she murmured. Her eyes started to burn, but she didn’t let any tears fall.
“I know you have no use for it, but…” Thomas started.
“I’ll keep it,” Brenda answered before he could even finish.
How couldn’t she? Brenda finally got something she remembered wishing for when she had first gotten here. Something from Teresa.
She wrapped it in a piece of cloth she found by the cots and stuffed it into her rucksack. It should be strange how something deadly could make her feel more at home in a place called the Safe Haven. But it didn’t. Maybe because the whole idea of carrying a weapon around somewhere filled with wildflowers and crystal blue waters made this place feel like Teresa Agnes.
Badass and beautiful.