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Georgie could taste ash on her tongue.
It was in the air, too, settling softly like the hazier corpses of snowflakes over the rubble of the Panopticon, and she could feel it drawn into her lungs with every choke for breath she managed. The burnt, musty smell was filling her senses, overwhelming them, and even as her throat grew tighter and tighter, she didn’t stop to wonder if she was okay.
She allowed herself a brief moment of gratitude that she could still move, muscles numb and skin searing with the grating of ash and concrete into burns across her exposed skin, but all that mattered was that she was able to scramble to her feet. Her foothold was unsteady in the rubble, eyelashes fighting off the ash clinging to them, as she stared up at the grey sky above them, over the grey haze of wooden framing and torn up tile floors.
And then she saw it– the frame collapsed into the debris not too far from her, a shape standing out from the waste of smoke and still-crackling embers on some of the charred wood. Georgie staggered over, breaths already marred with panicked mutters of ‘please, please-’
Her heart was hammering more than she could keep control of, coughing up ash and falling to her knees in front of the shape.
Melanie’s face was stiff, a fine grey layer of dust coating a gleaming red burn across one side of her face. Georgie gasped for air, her own blood rushing and searching hurried for a pulse, for a breath.
She choked on a half-sob of pain, a trembling hand moving to brush a thumb over Melanie’s lips– but when they parted, the movement too stiff and involuntary to be of anything that was still breathing, all that seeped through was blood.
Georgie lurched awake with a sharp, shuddering inhale, throat burning painfully as she gasped for air. Her chest was pounding, hard, eyes wrought out with the beginnings of tears and hand weakly fumbling to her side to check, to ensure that there was someone there– she could barely breathe enough to call out, lungs having clamped too tight in her chest as she fought for more air.
Her hand clumsily found the shoulder of someone lying next to her, fingers trembling more than she thought possible as she choked on a gasp of relief. Her heart refused to slow, cold still dripping down her spine and keeping her entire body shuddering as the frame lying in the bed beside her began to stir, soft mumbles of confusion barely audible over the blood rushing in Georgie’s ears.
She could still feel it, something far different than grief setting deep into her bones as the darkness around her told her nothing, as the taste of ash still lingered on her tongue, as her hands were shaking far, far too much to tell if there was blood on them.
The resting form beside her shifted again, another hand lifting to rest on top of Georgie’s, and she could hear the second set of breathing in the room grow clearer– it was steady, Georgie told herself, even as much as the panic reached to tear the realisation from her grasp. It was steady, and it was there, and even as she choked on another gasp herself, it was okay.
“Mm…?”
Melanie’s voice was barely above a soft croak of worry, but it was enough , Georgie letting relief wash over her as she fought her heart rate down. Melanie was fine, she was fine, it had only been…
“I’m sorry, I just–” Georgie rasped. She had never remembered sounding so weak, the fear stealing all the steadiness of her voice as she blinked at the moisture in her eyes. She hadn’t meant to apologise, either, as she knew that it wasn’t her fault, but control was being wrestled out of her hands, and it was the easiest on her tongue to say she hadn’t meant to panic, to end up like this.
“Oh,” Melanie breathed, slowly moving to shift up onto one forearm, the cool moonlight from the window just enough to see locks of fluffy hair falling in front of her face as she reached up to rest a hand on Georgie’s cheek. Georgie felt herself shudder again with relief, the touch grounding as she leaned into it, repeatedly reassuring herself that they were safe. “You’re okay, hon,” Melanie continued gently, her other hand finding Georgie’s shoulder. “Do you need to sit up?”
Georgie nodded shakily, arms weak as she moved to sit up properly, trying to get her breaths to even out. It was easier to breathe like this, even as her vision still blurred with tears and gasps were hitching slightly in her throat, and Melanie moved to hold her hand. Her palm was so warm, expression patient as Georgie fought to keep her breathing in line with Melanie’s, head still aching with the usual strain of fighting back tears this much.
“Slowly…” Melanie mumbled, and Georgie nodded again, pressing her eyes shut as she took another long, deep breath that was cool against her throat. It was just that, the clean air of their shared flat where they were both safe and comfortable, and Georgie felt her shoulders begin to sink, breathing finally slowing to the point where she could keep it slow, mind beginning to clear of the senseless, panicked racing that she just couldn’t get away from.
“Yeah. Better.” Melanie rested her head against Georgie’s shoulder, squeezing her hand tightly as Georgie opened her eyes again. She lifted her arm to wrap around Melanie’s shoulder, who shifted even closer, and swallowed, throat still tight, before speaking.
“Yeah… yeah. That was–” She glanced over at the clock beside the bed, managing a shaky, only slightly teary laugh as she turned back to Melanie. “That was one of the… worse ones, if you c-couldn’t tell.”
Melanie nodded against her shoulder, her breathing still feeling slow in comparison to Georgie’s. “Better or worse than last time?”
Georgie exhaled, fighting to think back to what exactly the last nightmare had been– the first had been just under a week ago. She had woken up to a cry of panic dying on her lips, shaking uncontrollably and unable to breathe, barely able to think at all until Melanie had talked her through it. They had sat down and talked through it that afternoon, spending the day with as low stress as possible, and had decided, after quite a few cups of tea and a couple reluctant texts to Jon about how entities were supposed to have worked, that it had been fear.
She had recognised it, hazily, some familiar shape in the way all of the control was ripped from her grasp, and some part of her might have been glad to have the confirmation that the entities really were gone, as well as the damage they had done to her.
Except for the fact that her adrenaline levels seemed to be making up for every single bit of fear she should have experienced over however many years it had been, with the timeline collapsing and all, and now every time she fell asleep it was a gamble as to whether she would wake up soaked in sweat and hyperventilating or perfectly fine.
“...Better,” Georgie croaked after thinking it over for a moment. At least in that one Melanie had already been dead. “N-not by much, but…” she took another deep breath. “I like to think they’re slowly– very slowly– easing up.”
“Okay,” Melanie said softly. “That’s good to hear.”
“Still h-hurts, though. I think I forgot how much it… hurts. I remember, kind of, what it used to feel like, and it was just– all the ways you hear it described. Cold, hard to breathe, all that, something you could deal with, but… it’s so much worse. It just- it holds a piece of you captive and–” she scoffed shakily at her own attempt at a description of fear, as if Melanie didn’t already know. “I don’t know how you all dealt with it for so long.”
“...Does ‘stabbing people’ count as an answer?”
Georgie replied only in a teary laugh, the panic and just as overwhelming crash of relief beginning to give way to a guilt that lingered afterward, cold and heavy as Georgie let the weariness begin to seep in. “It- it just doesn’t feel right to be- be this scared over something not… not even real when–”
“Don’t start on that,” Melanie was quick to cut her off, voice steady as she squeezed Georgie’s hand tighter. “ Please . It doesn’t matter if it was real or not, what you felt was, and that’s what I care about. Hell, you saw me cry while we were walking through those fearscapes, as if there weren’t people far more terrified on all sides of us.”
“B-but you were still scared,” Georgie croaked. “You still h-had to see all of that and be unable to help, and feel the fear of watching it all happen. And I- I…”
“You’re feeling it now, instead,” Melanie finished for her, hand lifting to Georgie’s cheek again. Her palm was warm against the tears drying on her face, and Georgie pressed her eyes shut, an ache in her chest still ebbing painfully. “You aren’t selfish, hon. Afraid or not, you’ve always wanted the best for people. And that matters, so much more than whether you have nightmares.” She brushed at another tear on Georgie’s face. “It can be as complicated as you want it to be, but either way a-all of us saw awful, fucked up things, and that doesn’t change based on what other people saw, or how long afterward it is. Don’t forget that.”
Georgie sniffled, chest blooming with a fondness she couldn’t begin to fight as Melanie leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. The rest of her ramble had died from her tongue, something unspooling within her with relief. She could feel the distant reverb of panic from the nightmare, but there was something else she could feel buried beneath all the terror and grief, that she didn’t think was selfishness.
“Do you…” Georgie took a deep breath, still keeping Melanie close. “Do you know what I thought I had realised? Wh-when I first… stopped feeling scared.”
“...Wh- what that lady at university told you?” Melanie asked quietly, voice still hoarse from waking up.
She nodded in response, the words so strangely burned into her mind, a memory she had traced the shape of so many times. “I- I realised that there… wasn’t a reason to be scared. Because- because if I would just feel… like this– then the world had already ended. I had already died and lost everything and when there’s no difference between present and future, there is no cause and effect. And- and fear is meant to protect you, it’s meant to be a cause for something to save you, but if the effect already happened, it’s… pointless. But I don’t–” Georgie shook her head minutely, breaths shuddering. “I don’t think that was right anymore.”
Melanie was still listening, a hand resting on Georgie’s thigh and brow furrowed in thought.
“I don’t think… it’s meaningless. Especially now, when it’s not t-to feed anything,” Georgie continued. “That kind of thinking just loops into itself. If you aren’t looking for a purpose, you won’t- you won’t find one. But it goes the other way, as well, because what she told me, it– it’s plausible enough to convince yourself of, but it’s enough of a hypothetical that if you question it enough, it- it falters, cracks under pressure. And sometimes that question comes when you realise that some things are worth being scared for, worth the fear of losing them, even if you still think it might not- do anything.”
Melanie was still, lips slightly parted as she continued to frown slightly across the room. Georgie let out a breath, remembering for a moment that it was, in fact, two in the morning and Melanie had only just woken up with no preparation to process a philosophical discussion.
“And sometimes they’re not things, they’re- people,” she added, and Melanie lifted her head slowly, understanding gradually crossing her expression as her shoulders sank and the moonlight illuminated the tint of pink on her cheeks.
“Oh, c’mon, you can’t just- say that,” Melanie sighed, but there was a soft smile on her lips and she leaned in closer.
“Sure can.” Georgie shifted, breathing now plenty steady enough for her to lie down again. The lingering fear had given way to the simpler exhaustion of having expended that much emotional energy so late at night, the adrenaline rush that had fallen short, and she yawned, sinking onto her side. “...Thanks again for helping out. Love you.”
“Love you too. You’re… okay to get back to sleep?” Melanie asked, voice soft as she snuggled close, Georgie instinctively moving her arm to drape over Melanie’s waist.
“You’ll be here?”
“Of course.”
Georgie nodded, letting a smoother, more comfortable exhale as she let her eyes flutter shut, giving in to the tiredness weighing over her again. Melanie was warm and close and the night was quiet and peaceful, and the echo of fear in the back of her mind had found its own place to fit.
“Then I’ll be okay.”