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Sylvie isn't sure why she is still flying the helicopter. Painful indents start to form from her nails digging into her palm, but she doesn't care.
She blinks furiously at the vast expanse of wilderness stretching out in front of her, the blinding flash of the recent explosion still burning it's shape into her vision. She tries to shake it away, but it remains.
She can't shake away her guilt, her failures, her fuck ups.
Henri's laugh gave her a reason to live, but she messed that up when she ignored his symptoms- cancer symptoms. Then, when the world went to hell, she had to help Zara shield her little boy from the horrors of the apocalyptic world. She naively thought she had succeeded in doing so when the group had finally reached the bunker, yet there's two bodies in the dirt back in Bulgaria, buried without a proper funeral. From then up until now, the last scraps of her will to live were directed towards protecting her fellow passengers from the deadly grasp of the soldiers'.
The white dots dancing in her eyes and the bloody pool seeping into the backseat tells her enough about her success there.
So now, she has nothing to live for, and they're still four-hundred miles from Ukraine- a destination where Horst has suggested they refuel the vehicle before continuing to Svalbard. The seed bank seems so far away, so impossibly far away.
Her mind drifts to thinking about how it would be incredibly easy to crash the helicopter. A quick, painless death with no consequences. She would no longer have to endure the hardships of an apocalyptic planet Earth, or live with the aching yearn for her deceased partner. She can almost feel herself tilting the steering wheel down-
Sylvie is quickly brought out of her dark thoughts when she's disturbed by erratic breathing to her right.
She breaks her dazed focus of the horizon and turns to see Ines, curled into a ball in the passenger's seat, hyperventilating. She thought Ines had been asleep, but the younger women's eyes were open wide in childlike fear, glued to window.
Sylvie's head briefly darts to the backseat, looking for support, but Laura had only just stopped wailing herself and was now in a deep slumber. She and Horst had passed out with their arms around eachother, their cheeks still wet with tears and faces still strained with grief. She didn't want to wake them up, so she decides to tend to the younger woman alone.
“Ines,” Sylvie says softly, looking over at her once again whilst fighting to keep her voice level. “You need to get some sleep.”
“I can't.” Ines replies immediately. Her voice is quiet yet frantic from her quickened breathing. The younger women slowly turns away from window to sit facing Sylvie, who notices an almost pleading look in her eyes.
"Why not?" Sylvie asks cautiously, although she realises the absurdity of her question as soon as it escapes her lips.
"Why do you think?!" Ines cries, gasping simultaneously due to the climbing speed of her breathing. Tears begin to stream down her face as she groans in haunting despair, her head falling limp against the head rest. The outburst causes Sylvie to feel a twang in her chest.
"Okay, okay, I get it, but you need to calm down, yeah?' She quickly gets up from her seat to comfort the now sobbing women, arms outstretched in front of her, but stops in her tracks.
She's meant to be the pilot.
Sylvie looks desperately between Ines and the steering wheel, deciding on what to prioritize in that moment. The pressure to do the right thing could almost make her pass out. Thankfully, the decision is made for her when a dishevelled Horst shuffles into view and begins clambering into the driver's seat. He must have stirred from his sleep due to the commotion- either that, or the events of the day left him too disturbed to sleep soundly. Both reasons would make sense.
"Thank you." Sylvie mouths, eyes wide with gratitude.
"Don't mention it." He mumbles groggily, "On autopilot. Should be fine."
Sylvie awkwardly perches beside the passenger seat, before Ines shuffles over slightly to let her share. Sylvie isn't used to comforting people. She's always found herself to be very awkward during interactions such as this, and never knows the right thing to say or do to help the other person in need. But, upon hearing Ines's pained sobs, she realizes that all she can do is try her best.
Sylvie gently raises her hand underneath the younger woman's chin and tilts her head towards her own. Their eyes meet momentarily before Sylvie carefully leans in closer, making their foreheads meet and brush lightly against one another. They're extremely close together, and the intimacy allows her to feel Ines's panicked breaths against her lips.
"Follow my breathing, okay?"
Ines swallows loudly and nods.
"In... and out. Like that." Sylvie instructs softly. Her left hand finds the back of Ines' neck and she gently rubs her skin in what she hopes is a calming motion. The younger woman mimicks her breathing, still hiccuping and choking through sobs but gradually feeling her breathing begin to regulate.
"Is that better?" Sylvie cautiously moves back, and lets her hand from Ines's neck travel to cup her cheek, her thumb delicately smoothing over the girl's soft skin and wiping away the tears that had collected at her jawline. She expects Ines to retreat away from her touch- and perhaps be embarrassed by their interaction now that she's calmer- but instead she leans into it further and buries her head into the older woman's neck whilst continuing to cry.
"I'm so scared."
She's taken aback for a moment, but her hands soon hold Ines steady, with one placed gently behind her head and the other tightly round her waist.
"Me too." Sylvie becomes aware that her own face is damp, and she's unsure who the tears belong to. "But you've handled everything so far. You have to keep going."
"It's just... after seeing Zara and Dominik die and now... Rik-" Ines lets out an incoherent sob after hearing herself say the names of the deceased, "I keep thinking who's next, you know? Like what fucking horrible thing is going to happen next and-"
"You're going to be okay. I'd rather die myself than let anything horrible happen to you."
"That's the point!" The younger women cries even louder into Sylvie's shoulder, simultaneously gripping at her jacket, as if to keep her from running away. "I'm so scared- so fucking scared that you'll die and leave me here all alone."
"I- I..." Sylvie stutters, her mind guiltily racing back to the temptations she felt moments ago. She pushes them aside and tightens the embrace. "I'm not planning on going anywhere, okay?"
Ines doesn't respond with words, instead she wraps her arms around Sylvie's neck and nods into the damp patch that has now formed on the older woman's jacket.
"I need you." She finally whispers, and Sylvie has to swallow back a sob of her own.
They stay wrapped up in eachother's arms for a while, with Sylvie gently shushing Ines's subsiding whimpers. She gently moves the hair that had become stuck to the younger woman's cheeks away from her damp face, and looks down at her in resting in her arms. Her eyes are now closed and she's breathing deeply into her chest, with each puff of air out her nose tickling Sylvie's collarbone- but she doesn't mind. She leans down and places a quick, comforting kiss on the girl's temple.
"You're exhausted. I really need you to get some sleep, okay?"
"B-but what about refuelling... I need to help you." Ines stutters, her face painted with a look of concern.
"We still have two hours until we reach Ukraine, you can sleep until then."
"Mmmmm...okay." Ines yawns. She finally gives in to the intense exhaustion she has been feeling, and slumps down as Sylvie drapes her jacket over her torso. The older woman quickly removes herself from the passager seat, dismissing Horst from his position in the process, and the younger woman sleepily groans at the loss of physical contact.
"I'm still here." She guides Ines's head into her lap as the girl sprawls across the two seats. It doesn't look comfortable, Sylvie thinks to herself, but she can't bring herself to argue.
"You.. promise you'll wake... wake me up right?"
"I will." She gives a weak, reassuring smile.
Sylvie isn't sure if she'll keep her promise- but she's now become sure of something else.
If she isn't flying this helicopter for herself, then she is flying for the girl curled up in her lap.
Ines needs her.
Although, she is pretty certain, that she needs Ines more.