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sara’s arms are a kind place to rest.
it isn’t the first time she’s held you in them, far from it. on those bad days, the ones where you couldn’t quite make it through to the end to go deal with your problems alone and fell apart on her. all she would do is soothe you, keep your red face in her shoulder and draw circles into your back until you were calm. it wasn’t always for those reasons though; sometimes it was a hug after a particularly rough exam, a victory in a team game at the arcade, a well-meaning sign of affection.
you’re best friends after all. that’s why you do what you do for each other.
that’s why you’re here, minutes after the forceful disconnect of tubes from your body. your head is swimming and your legs no longer have the strength to hold you up, your heart pumping and pumping to make up for all of the loss it experienced.
there’s a sticky sensation that runs over and under your clothes, uncomfortable enough that you would squirm to crawl out of it if you had the energy. sara must hate it too, but that hasn’t stopped her from clinging as hard as she can to you.
she’s crying.
you don’t want her to. that’s the last thing you ever wanted to make sara do and yet here you are, failing in one of the only goals you’ve ever set for yourself. if anyone hurt her, ryoko and you would hurt them. it was a promise of protection, a way to make up for not being able to prevent it yourselves.
you’re the cause.
in the end, was there any way to stop this? it was either kai and you or everyone else. someone had to die here.
it wasn’t sara. it never had to be sara.
maybe you’ve succeeded once. sara can keep living, find her way out of this mess with the rest of this group behind her, and continue their lives outside of this nightmare facility. no one else has to die. no one else should have to suffer like this.
if anyone can do it, it’s sara. it’s sara, it’s sara, it’s sara.
…
she’s talking to you.
you can’t make out her words well. the whole world has gone blurry, a wash of colors where you can only differentiate some spots among the crowd forced to witness all of this. sara’s sobbing and sobbing and starts to sink.
you try to make the descent easier.
it doesn’t work. the drop is jarring, but sara manages to keep you both on your knees and not toppled upon the ground.
sara… you’re gonna get blood all over you… c’mon, it doesn’t feel good, you can… you can let go…
your tongue’s too heavy to speak.
all you can do is let out shaky, small breath after breath as your heart wears down. it’s not your own that pumps fiercely and strong, pounding and pounding like a hammer against her ribcage to make up for the tears and screaming. you can feel hers, proximity far too close to even focus on your own for more than a second.
she was always faster than you. it only makes sense for that trend to continue now in a time like this.
that’s fine. you don’t need to worry about yourself. it’s over, it’s over, it’s over and you’ve found your victory and loss all at once. your life for hers. it’s worth it.
…
for someone so worried about being left behind again (a second time and the wisps of orange hair cut through the darkness behind your eyelids), you’re finding the stark realization that it’s your turn to go almost funny.
it’s not, it’s not, you didn’t want to die here, but what else could you do?
letting everyone else die for you is unthinkable in the end. the thought made you ill from the start; the chances to convince everyone to vote for you slipped past your fingers. your impending death settled on you and you couldn’t fight it.
there’s more blood outside of your body than inside at this point. your pant legs are soaked from the puddle that had formed so, surely, sara’s socks aren’t faring any better. she still won’t let go.
you want to offer her words of strength. you want to help her, you want to help her, you want to help her.
all you can do is open your eyes and find the yellow bands around your wrist and stare at them, limp and pale against the red-stained floor. you didn’t look like that before. the person she’s holding may as well already be a corpse.
who are you if not someone who tries a little more?
a wheeze escapes your throat, close enough to a death rattle that sara’s grieved scream shakes the watery feeling of your brain around. your arms move, slowly and pained. you return the gesture, loosely crossing your wrists behind sara in return. it’s all you can do in this position, but you think she understands.
you can feel her chest shaking, her face thrown into your shoulder.
it’s familiar too. when sara’s strong shoulders can’t bear the burden anymore, when she has to fall apart too, when you’re her rock against it all because you’re her best friend and you want her to be able to move on when you’re not around to help.
above all else, you want sara to be okay.
your jaw hurts, but you can manage through the numbness to smile. it’s light, gentle, and almost peaceful. your eyes are shut again, heartbeat taking its time in a rhythm as everything winds down.
the world stops around you. sara’s there while also not, her grip disappearing and disappearing.
this is it. this is all you can do now.
if all you could ever offer her was a smile and support, then you’ll keep doing that. you won’t fail this time. you’ll help her carry on with these new friends she’s made.
it’s the least you can do for the girl who’s made high school the best years of your life.
your arms drift from her back, falling limp over her shoulders. you hope you can meet her again someday in the far far future, after sara’s lived a full and enjoyable life, after doing everything she’s ever wanted.
you’ll meet again someday. you know it.
thanks for everything, sara. i love ya.