Chapter Text
What Becomes of Fireflies
Artwork by Lay. See more of their work on Twitter and Instagram
The thirty foot yacht that had become Mel’s world swayed gently from side to side and a cool breeze whipped through her short hair sending a shiver down her spine. It was calm now, a far cry from the rough seas and high winds of their first few days at sea.
Although it had gotten better, she was still subject to almost constant nausea. Fortunately for her, she hadn’t had to contend with severe morning sickness, but she imagined that this was what it would have felt like. She’d found that by looking at the horizon and keeping it level in her head, she could keep her food down. Sleep was another matter.
She didn’t break her gaze as footsteps approached and someone sat down next to her. There weren’t many options as to who it could be. Alice, who had been resting her chin on Mel’s thigh perked up and wagged her tail at their visitor.
“Hey…” Abby greeted her softly.
“Hey” Mel replied, still staring dead ahead.
“You okay?”
She just nodded gently in assent as Abby stared intently at her through blue eyes and scratched the underside of her chin.
“Mel. You look like shit,” she said, not unkindly.
Mel finally turned to look at her companion.
“I’m pregnant. I’m meant to look like shit”
“You’ve barely eaten anything and when was the last time you slept?”
Mel just shrugged and exhaled deeply before biting her lower lip nervously.
“I… Uh… We should talk”
“Kinda tried that, Abby.” Mel replied sharply, scrunching up her face “Remember?” Her sneer rapidly morphing into a questioning stare.
Abby ran her hand through her hair and looked down at her feet briefly, mulling that over before looking back into Mel’s piercing eyes.
“Yeah” She paused “Mel. Look, I’m sorry. About everything. The last few months. Jackson. Owen”
Mel pursed her lips and nodded slowly, still staring intently. Abby looked at her questioningly, trying to solicit some sort of response, but Mel stubbornly refused to oblige.
“I know Jackson, what happened. That wasn’t you. Sorry I dragged you there.”
“You didn’t drag me there Abby. I wanted to be there” She shrugged nonchalantly as if the torture she’d participated in hadn’t left her feeling disgusting and her soul forever tainted.
“Fuck’s sake, Mel.” Abby, her impatience rising, sighed in exasperation “Sure doesn’t seem like it. You told me it shook you”
Mel found her resentment and bitterness towards Abby rising again, but paused, closing her eyes as she worked out how to articulate her feelings without the cruelty she’d leaped to last time.
-
Jackson wasn’t what she’d expected. They knew Tommy Miller was there and hoped he’d be able to tell them where his brother, the man who had taken everything from them, was. Mel had half expected it to be another dead end, but she dared to hope.
Then the unexpected had happened and Abby had arrived back at the lodge on horseback with both Miller brothers. They had no idea what they were walking into.
Tommy was confident and friendly. He offered to take them to town to resupply and she’d introduced herself and shaken his hand. Her blood had run cold when he introduced himself and his brother.
Within seconds Tommy was unconscious and Joel was on the ground with a large chunk of his leg missing. She wanted him to suffer and die but hadn’t really thought about what the reality of that would look like.
Her ears were ringing, partly from the concussion of Abby’s shotgun, partly psychosomatic. She didn’t really hear Abby telling her to tourniquet his leg or maybe she did and just couldn’t comprehend it? Abby repeated the order and Mel had turned to see the rage and grief painted across her friend's face. She felt physically sick but complied. Stemming the flow of blood so Abby could end Joel’s life slowly.
The golf club had swung up and down, up and down, and Joel Miller, the butcher of Saint Mary’s had screamed as Abby broke his body piece by piece. It was what she’d thought she wanted, but the reality was too much for Mel and she’d fled out into the snow. Owen had followed her, his own discomfort and reluctance obvious. Neither of them spoke, he’d been quiet and reticent since she’d told him she was pregnant, but he had laid an arm across her slender shoulders in comfort.
It only ended when the girl crashed through the door and hearing the commotion, they’d rushed back in, gun drawn. Joel was unbelievably still conscious and the panicked girl was screaming for him to get up. They didn’t really know all that much about him, maybe it was his kid? Mel couldn’t look away as Abby brought the club up one final time but she winced as it slammed down into Joel’s skull, ending his life.
-
“I’m glad he’s dead. I just didn’t see it happening like it did. Didn’t expect it to take so long. That fucking golf club, the screaming. and his leg. The tourniquet… You made me part of that. You could have just put a bullet in him, but you just had to make it last didn’t you? Think that’s what your dad would have wanted?” She hadn’t intended that last part to come out with such venom and immediately softened her expression.
“Don’t you fucking dare. He was my fucking dad, not yours. As much as you so obviously wanted that, little miss fucking perfect.”
Though feeling suitably admonished, Mel was stubborn and those floodgates couldn’t be closed just yet.
“You know it’s true Abby. He wouldn’t have wanted that for you. You looked fucked up afterward, more than me. Sorry I just kinda ignored you and yeah I guess I kinda did wish he was my dad”
“Yeah, well he wasn’t and if you try and use him against me again, I swear to god I’m dumping you off the side of this boat.” Abby seemed to cool a bit. “He loved you too. Dumbass was always going on about you. Teen prodigy and all that shit. I still have the nightmares, there’s just more to them now. After Joel. Didn’t think it’d happen like that either. It just kind of did. I think I’ll just have to live with it. But I want to be better, do better. For Dad.” She looked back towards the aft of the boat where Owen was at the tiller, he sheepishly looked away as if he hadn’t been watching them. But Abby’s gaze fell on Lev and Yara sitting behind him, practicing the nautical knots that Owen had been teaching them.
“But yeah. I’m sorry everything happened the way it did”
Mel turned as well, but her gaze fixed on Owen and she flinched suddenly.
It had all been a bit of a whirlwind, their flight from Seattle.
Mel had been called up to FOB for duty. Isaac wanted all hands on deck. She had hoped she would find Owen there. He’d been picking up all the deployments he could since they’d gotten back from Jackson and she hadn’t seen him for weeks. Her anxiety mixed with the cocktail of hormones her pregnant body was producing had made it a difficult time. They should have been preparing for their future, for their child's future. Instead, Mel had been left in a holding pattern, with very little to go on.
When she got there, Owen had gone AWOL, for the right reasons it turned out, he didn’t want to murder a defenseless old Seraphite. Then Abby disappeared, going after him.
Isaac, the miserable old fucker, had Mel dragged in front of him. It started pleasantly enough
“Melanie, we’re just worried about them. We’re going to bring them home safe” .
Then the questions started.
“Are there any places they’d go, places that are special to either of them?” .
Mel’s mind had immediately flashed to the aquarium, the boat, that’s where Owen would go, but Isaac could go fuck himself, she knew who he was, what he’d do to them. So she lied. The mood changed. Isaac loomed over her and she’d sunk into her chair under his cool gaze. He jerked her chair backward.
“Where are they?” He’d hissed.
“I don’t know”
His gaze drifted to her abdomen and her heart raced. She focussed on her breathing.
“Tell me where they’ve fucking gone, or I am going to have that child cut right out of you and fed to fucking clickers while you fucking watch”
“Please. I don’t know where either of them have gone. Please, you have to believe me”
He’d stared at her for what felt like minutes as she crumbled, tears and snot running down her terrified face. She knew what he was capable of.
“I find out you’re lying. You know what’s going to happen”
He’d gestured to the door and she had just about sprinted out, into the fresh air. Nora had found her curled up in a corner recovering from a severe panic attack.
As soon as she felt it was safe, she packed a bag, grabbed Alice, and left, hitching a ride down towards the waterfront with a patrol. Thankfully no one had asked any questions and she managed to slip away, to the aquarium. Like Owen and Abby, she was now a deserter. No going back now, but she knew where she was going.
She wasn’t who Owen was expecting. And not soon after she’d arrived, so had Abby bringing with her Lev and a wounded Yara. Scars. Kids. Mel remembered their discussion, just a day earlier about the truce and the Scar kids the WLF had killed. Abby’s opinion had obviously changed overnight. “Owen’s just had his moment of mercy. Just a coincidence, eh Abby?” But Yara did need help and Mel had sprung into action. Her arm was shattered and needed to be amputated. Abby and Lev had gone for supplies. Owen had loitered awkwardly. There was something unspoken he needed to say. Mel thought she knew, but it wasn’t what she’d wanted, so she shut down and focussed on Yara.
After Abby’s return and a successful amputation, it became harder and harder to avoid. They couldn’t stay. All their lives in Seattle were over. They’d take the boat, head down the coast, maybe find the Fireflies if they still existed. Lev had wanted to go back to the island and get his mom, but they’d stopped him and Owen and Yara had convinced him to stay. Abby had once again left for more supplies as the weather worsened. Manny’s meteorologist was right about that storm. She’d returned with the news that Mel had feared. Abby had run into Tommy Miller at the marina. Manny was dead, but so was Joel’s brother. Abby had put a bullet between his eyes.
Mel worried about the other loose end. The girl. She hoped, for the girl's sake, that she’d stayed in Jackson. Then Lev had seen a boat, a small one he said, approaching the marina through the storm before being hit by a wave, casting its occupant hurled into the churn. They’d all gone out to look from the wharf, ready to help the survivor, probably another deserter, but no one surfaced. They’d probably drowned in the storm.
Owen had finally cornered her after that and spoken the words that in her brain she had expected, but in her heart had desperately hoped to avoid. He came clean about what had happened the night before she arrived. But more than that, he was finally honest about their whole relationship. She’d been living in a fantasy land and so had he. It began because Owen had seen a darkness growing in Abby as she focussed more and more on her journey of vengeance. When their relationship had ended, he’d gravitated to Mel, someone who he’d seen as gentler and more innocent, and Mel, who had always adored him, had leaped at the chance. But it hadn’t been real, he never stopped loving Abby, and as sweet and kind as Owen was, he was as terrible at confrontation as Mel was and so they had both kept lying to themselves and each other.
Mel had gotten pregnant. For her, it was a dream come true, for him it was a prison sentence. Then Jackson happened and although it shattered them both in similar ways, they dealt with it very differently. Mel coped by pressing forward, planning for their future together. Owen coped by retreating from Mel and everyone else. But it was all in the open now and it was over. Done. They were done.
She’d wanted to scream at him. To make him understand how much it hurt, how utterly terrified she was of a future alone with a child, but she couldn’t find the words. Off she had stormed, right into Abby, someone who had once been her friend, who might still have been. They’d been through a lot together and had stayed close through thick and thin. But then Jackson happened. To top it all off, she’d always harbored a degree of jealousy towards Abby and her relationship with Owen. And then Abby had slept with him, while she refused to give either of them up to Isaac as he threatened to murder her baby. Here was someone Mel thought she could take it all out on. And so she had.
She looked back at Abby.
“I’m sorry too.” Mel almost whispered “I was unfair… Back at the aquarium. You haven’t always been a piece of shit” She smiled and awkwardly tried to wink, but flushed red when Abby didn’t respond. She looked down at Alice, now resting her head on Mel’s thigh again, and gave her a scratch behind the ears.
“It wasn’t your fault. Owen. I think I was just living in a fantasy land. It’s been over for a while really, just didn’t want to believe it. Sorry for taking it out on you. You didn’t deserve that”
Abby just looked at her and pursed her lips before nodding gently.
“Apology accepted” she finally replied “For what it’s worth, neither of us did it to hurt you. It just sort of happened.”
Mel bit her lip and nodded, looking away. Wiping a tear from her eye.
“You going to be okay?” Abby asked sincerely.
“Have to be”
Abby reached out and touched her shoulder, but Mel flinched involuntarily and she hastily withdrew.
“You’re not going to do it alone, well unless you want to. We’re family though”
Mel wondered what Owen thought about that, but left that question unasked for now, instead just forcing a smile and looking back out to the horizon.
Space was cramped on the small yacht and sleeping arrangements were interesting. It had been decided that Mel, heavily pregnant, would share the bed with the kids, who didn’t really take up all that much space. It was a small mercy, but one Mel was thankful for. She tried not to think about what had happened on that bed. Abby and Owen took the padded bench seat, it was cramped, but they tended to work shifts, taking turns ensuring the boat remained on course. Mel had offered to help, to no avail, so she focussed instead on Yara and Lev.
They were good kids, but they’d suffered a lot. Lev had been rejected by his own mother for being who he was and nearly murdered by his own people. There was a deep kindness and earnestness to him and he was wise far beyond his years. Yara was sharp, witty, and fiercely protective of her younger brother, she’d sacrificed everything for him and wouldn’t hesitate to do so again. Obviously sensing the tension onboard they went out of their way to keep Mel company and despite their innate fear of WLF dogs, they were even warming to Alice.
What remained of Yara’s arm still needed regular dressing changes and the application of soothing ointments as it healed into a stump. She was still on a course of antibiotics as Mel worked to stave off the infection. The work was minor, but it gave her something positive to focus on and keep her busy. There was also her journal, which she had always written and drawn in fastidiously, to help pass the time. On reflection, her talk with Abby had helped to a certain degree. There was a lot of water under the bridge and she doubted things would ever be the same again, but she didn’t dismiss the idea that maybe there could be a new type of normal. In the short term at least there needed to be, for her sake and her child’s. She couldn’t go it alone.
Mel had still barely said a word to Owen and he hadn’t pressed the situation at all. However, she wasn’t stupid and within the limited confines of the yacht, it was impossible not to notice Abby and Owen whispering heatedly from time to time and stealing glances at her.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully removing the WLF patch from the shoulder of her oilskin jacket, when Owen finally bit the bullet. She wanted the patch and what it represented gone, but she liked the jacket and it wouldn’t be too long until it would fit her again.
He sat down next to her as she sliced through the connecting threads with a knife that was probably far too large for the job. Mel didn’t look up, instead concentrating on the job at hand, but she knew why he was there.
Owen exhaled loudly and went to speak but Mel interrupted before he could utter a single word.
“A year and a half of my life and a baby because you wanted your dick wet ”
He clenched his jaw before responding “You done?”
Mel shot him a death stare.
“Fuck. You.” she hissed.
She watched, expecting his shoulders to rise in defense and his jaw to roll in anger but he just met her gaze and raised his eyebrows fractionally.
“I do love you, Mel”
“Just not in the way I loved you right?” she snapped.
He just nodded in acknowledgment with sad eyes. But there was also a hint of relief there.
“I tried so hard” she continued “To be who you needed, give you what you wanted. You’re a coward Owen. You used me when it suited you and led me along because you just couldn’t bring yourself to be honest”
“I’m not sure what I wanted, but it wasn’t to fuck you over” he replied defensively “I just thought it was a rough patch, that we’d get there eventually if I gave it time”
“That’s a BIG rough patch. But I guess I’m thick as shit for not seeing what was happening”
He didn’t reply, instead, he looked away, perhaps trying to think of a way to end the conversation, tick the box. She didn’t feel like letting him just yet.
“You were just going to leave weren’t you?”
He sighed deeply “I didn’t plan any of it. It all just sort of happened. I didn’t want to kill the old man and couldn’t go back after Danny” Mel felt a pang of sadness cut through the simmering anger. She’d loved Owen for his kindness and couldn’t blame him for how his desertion had unfolded “I thought you’d be safe at the stadium.”
She paused, remembering the stadium. That place had never felt like home and the WLF were never her people. But she had the Salt Lake crew and she’d been preparing to make the best of it, in their new home in the family section. The one Owen had never seen. Now Manny was dead and after watching the assault on Scar island across the bay, the flames and smoke rising, the desperate calls over the radio, she feared for the others. But that life was well and truly over for her. It was over the minute Isaac threatened the life that was now savagely kicking the shit out of her guts.
“What about them?” she gestured at her bump “Did they factor into your plan at all?”
His expression hardened slightly.
“I’m sorry, but that’s what you wanted. I didn’t ask for that”
“Well that’s not how biology works Owen, and there’s no fucking take-backs”
“What do you want me to say Mel?” he replied, voice raised in exasperation.
“I want you to say that you’ll be there for your child”
Cutting the last thread holding the patch to her jacket, she pressed too hard and the knife sliced into her index finger. She growled angrily, mainly at herself, and put her bleeding finger in her mouth. Owen stared at her, his expression unreadable, and got up to retrieve a bandage from the boat's old first aid kit. She accepted it with a grunt.
“No one is going to ditch you”
“Is Owen Moore going to be involved in his child's life?” She said slowly, annunciating each syllable.
“Yes. I am. Okay? Is that good enough?”
She didn’t reply instead placing her hand on her bump,
“They’re kicking. If you want to feel”
He shook his head and looked down at the floor.
Mel stared at him as tears welled in her eyes before standing up with a jerk and storming out of the claustrophobic cabin, into the fresh air. She made brief eye contact with Abby who was watching her through empathetic eyes but didn’t say anything to the other woman, instead walking past her and hurling the WLF patch into the pacific.
They were blessed by strong winds and calm seas as they sailed down the western seaboard of what was once the United States of America, taking shelter and gathering fresh water in isolated bays and natural harbors when they needed to. At night, they would often see twinkling lights out to sea and during daylight hours they even spotted a couple of large ships on the horizon. There was certainly life out there in the blue. Made sense, the infected didn’t really swim.
They opted to pass by San Francisco in the dead of night, it wasn’t their destination and best to avoid any dangers that might have lurked there. The boat was well stocked for weeks at sea, but it was a relief to all when they coasted by Santa Maria and what must have been Vandenberg Air Force Base. Santa Barbara was just around the corner.
Lev, with his sharp eyes, was the first to spot it. An indistinct dark shape in the distance, growing with each second. Another boat. Owen grabbed his binoculars.
“Fuck” He exclaimed immediately. Judging by its battleship gray paint job, it was a warship of some description “FEDRA”
At the rate that it was gaining on them, there was no way they’d be able to run from it, so they gathered their weapons and prepared to fight if they had to. Mel felt her cortisol levels spike and the baby protest, but once again she closed her eyes and focussed on her breathing as she loaded a full magazine into her rifle, laying her right hand on the bolt but not charging it just yet.
The gray blob grew larger and larger at a terrifying rate. It looked like it was flying, but as it approached it became clear it was suspended above the water by three blade-like structures, one at the prow and two aft, laid out in a triangle shape. The hydrofoil sported a nasty-looking gun turret at the front which remained trained on the yacht as it turned hard to starboard and began circling them at high speed throwing up a churning swell that slammed into them.
Mel braced herself, sitting down and sticking her legs out against the railing as the boat rocked from side to side. The others were holding on as best they could while trying to keep their weapons trained on the warship circling them like a vulture. Abby seemed to be shouting something, but she couldn’t hear a thing over the deafening roar of the hydrofoils engines and its wake hitting them from all directions.
Suddenly it started to slow and gently sank down into the water. The yacht continued to be buffeted, but it gradually became calmer as the patrol boat came to a stop. At its sharp prow was emblazoned the number one in white and in thick black text below the bridge was the name Pegasus . Mel caught her breath as her eyes reached the somewhat crudely painted symbol painted below that name. The Firefly.
Owen and Abby had seen it too. They lowered their weapons and quickly instructed the kids to do the same. The figures on the Pegasus , clad in plate carriers and tactical rigs, and sporting an assortment of automatic weapons neglected to do the same as their ride came alongside their quarry.
“Weapons on the deck and hands behind your heads. Now!” An aggressive feminine voice ordered over a megaphone.
Mel, like the rest of them, did as instructed and tried to stand, but nausea and headrush hit her and she buckled forward, almost falling on her rifle. A half dozen long guns hastily trained on her, but Owen quickly moved to stand between her and the danger, and with one hand raised, pulled her to her feet with his other, kicking her rifle away. That last jerky movement was the last straw for Mel’s seasick and anxiety-ridden guts and she vomited.
“You okay?” He asked gently.
She nodded, too nauseous to risk opening her mouth again just yet.
A gangplank was lowered and the Fireflies swarmed aboard, weapons trained on them. Lev and Yara, seeing men and women garbed similarly to the wolves who had hunted them in Seattle, seemed ready to fight as Fireflies moved to restrain them, but Abby spoke before any violence could break.
“We’re Fireflies. Salt Lake City”
A thin, but wiry middle-aged woman with sun-bleached hair and an air of authority walked forward.
“Tags. Now”
The three surviving members of the Salt Lake Crew pulled out the thin chains around their necks revealing their Firefly dog tags. The woman snatched Abby’s and peered closely at it through thick glasses, before looking back up at her face, narrowing her eyes.
“You do kind of look like him. It’s been a long minute since I last saw Jerry. He was a good man. Was sorry to hear what happened to him”
She looked over them all and with a hand gesture ordered her crew's weapons lowered.
“Welcome home”
