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Lost at sea

Summary:

The beginning of the end Villanelle and Eve would have deserved.
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Two shaky fingers reached out to feel Villanelle’s pulse. But Eve couldn’t feel anything. Another wave pulled them down, this time deeper than before. She clutched onto Villanelle’s limp body, as if it were her most precious possession, determined not to lose her again, even if it meant they might both lose this fight.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“I did it, Eve.”

Eve needed a moment to let the words sink in, and when they did she scoffed. “Don’t you mean we did it?”

“Yeah,” the blonde admitted, allowing Eve a momentary feeling of satisfaction, before taking it back again. Oh, how Villanelle loved to tease her, to get under her skin and to really make her squirm. “But mostly me.”

The Asian woman simply chuckled. On any other day and in any other situation Eve probably would have been stubborn enough not to let this slide, but somehow, as she was melting against the younger woman’s body, she couldn’t bring herself to care. All that mattered was that it was done. The Twelve was in the past. They were dead. It was finally over. And she and Villanelle were still here, right now in this moment. Alive.

Villanelle felt two arms wrap around her body and she let a deep sigh escape her mouth, as the tension in her body slowly ebbed away and the adrenaline began to wear off. Another feeling began to rise up inside of her and the warmth it brought spread from the depth of her heart into her finger tips and back again, circling through her entire body. It was still a new sensation, but not a completely unfamiliar one. She couldn’t really place it, nor did she want to dwell on it too long, but it felt good. Calm. Dreamy. Filled with endless possibilities.

Until it wasn’t. Until their moment was interrupted and forever gone. Until a bullet ripped through her skin, tearing flesh and scraping bones. The sudden sharp pain almost left her breathless and had her clench her teeth in an effort not to let out something resembling a scream. Red droplets turned into small streams as they trickled down her shoulder blade and back, soaking her already blood-stained top. Her brain knew what was happening before she could fully grasp it.

“Jump, Eve.”

Their eyes locked momentarily. Villanelle was by no means an expert when it came to reading people, but the emotion that was currently shimmering in Eve’s eyes was one that she had seen oh so many times in her life. It was utter, naked, desperate fear.

Villanelle’s instincts kicked in, as gunshots echoed behind them and the next thing Eve felt was the dirty, murky water of the Thames engulfing her entire body. And it was ice cold. And dark. And fucking disgusting. She felt its’ dirt cling to her every pore, even her mouth tasted of fish and sand and trash. Her eyes opened wide and she completely ignored the burning sting of the river water that followed, as another bullet tore through the water. It was muffled, but she would have recognized the sound anywhere.

She tried to move, wanting – and needing – to locate Villanelle. But she was nowhere to be seen. They had lost their grip onto each other somewhere during the fall and now the assassin was no longer next to her. The sound of yet another bullet rung in her ears, causing her to abruptly look up. And there she was. Villanelle. The blonde was floating a few feet above her with her eyes half-closed, dangerously close to losing her consciousness. The second bullet had left a gaping wound in her lower abdomen. Eve’s heart burned at the sight. Whether it was from fear or from thoughts of revenge or a mixture of both, she didn’t know.

With a few powerful strokes, Villanelle was almost within reach. Almost. Eve was sure that it would be enough. That soon Villanelle would be in her arms. Their hands briefly brushed. And she was suddenly convinced that somehow they could find a way out of here together. That they could make whoever had nearly destroyed them, pay. But then the Thames pulled her away; swallowing her in its’ filthy depth. And suddenly there was more distance between them than Eve considered possible to overcome.

The lack of oxygen and the burning it caused inside of her lungs caused her body to act of its’ own accord and she automatically breached the surface, where she gasped violently for air. Only to waste it again as she screamed into the cold, starless night. In frustration, and mostly in pain. Her heart was ripping into pieces. She cried out all the emotions that had been accumulating inside of her and had just waited for a ventil to be set free. A sudden wave pulled her under water and the world was still again. Everything felt dulled.

So what if she just gave in? What if they both ended up lost at sea? Wouldn’t that be a macabre and yet weirdly beautiful ending for them? Maybe that was always the way it was supposed to end for them anyway. What else could they expect with the life they lead?

But then something caught her eye. Or the corner of her eye. Strands of blonde hair. Villanelle’s hair. At least that’s what her – by now probably delirious – brain wanted her to believe the bright shimmering in the distance was. It needed to be her. It had to be. Gathering all the strength she had left, Eve broke the surface and allowed herself a deep breath of air, before diving into the river once more.

The gunmen must have been satisfied with their work, as Eve couldn’t hear them anymore, but she decided to stay beneath the surface as much as possible anyway, if not for her own safety, then to heighten her chances of catching a glimpse of the blonde hair that belonged to her. But there was barely anything she could see properly. A motor boat revved up somewhere in the distance. A lonely fish swam past her. A plastic bag momentarily disrupted her view.

And then, finally, there she was. The water around her was shimmering with a tinge of red from her gushing wounds, as she was swirling around the river, being pulled in different directions depending on the stream. It was a gut-wrenching sight, but all that Eve could feel in that moment was a deep-rooted relief. Maybe this wasn’t going to be their ending after all. And this time she wasn’t going to lose her again. With all her remaining strength, she dove a little deeper and finally, finally, she could secure her arms around Villanelle’s cold body.

“Villanelle,” she tried to say, but it only came out as one muffled sound. The blonde showed no reaction whatsoever and as quickly as she could, Eve tried to paddle and steer them towards the surface.

“Villanelle,” Her voice was panicky and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. The bone-crushing fear that she had first felt on that god forsaken boat came back with a force that nearly knocked all the air out of her lungs.

“Villanelle, please,” She pleaded once more, as she grabbed the younger woman’s chin between her pointer finger and her thumb, softly shaking it. Still, she showed no reaction. If she were conscious, Villanelle probably would have made fun of her because of how pathetic she was being and as much as Eve would detest that, right now there was nothing she wanted more than to hear her annoying laugh.

“Fuck you, Villanelle!” she muttered, her desperation slowly turning into anger. “A little help here would be nice!”

Her legs began to grow tired and a small wave pulled them back under water. Eve swallowed a good amount of the river water and immediately felt bile rise up her throat. “Damn it!” she cursed, as she broke the surface again. Two shaky fingers reached out to feel Villanelle’s pulse. But she couldn’t feel anything. Another wave pulled them down, this time deeper than before. She clutched onto Villanelle’s limp body, as if it were her most precious possession, determined not to lose her again, even if it meant they might both lose this fight.

“Eve!” A familiar voice distinguished itself amidst the noise of the water lapping against their bodies and the sound of Eve gasping for air every time the river allowed them to come up again. But Eve didn’t have time. She could only focus on Villanelle. Or what remained of her. “Eve.” The voice called her again, “Come on. You need to get on the boat now!” When the Asian woman turned her head to the left, she could barely believe her eyes.

“Pam.” She choked out. There was Pam, seated in a small boat, holding out one hand for her to grab. A million questions were swirling in her head, but they didn’t have time. “Vill- you need to help her. Please. You need to help her.”

The woman refrained from rolling her eyes – as if she wasn’t here to do exactly that – and just nodded stoically. Somehow, they managed to get both Villanelle’s still motionless body and Eve on the boat without capsizing it; even though they came really close a few times. Blood was still gushing from Villanelle’s gunshot wounds and Pam quickly freed herself of her jacket and hoodie to wrap them around the blonde in hopes of slowing it down. The cold water had definitely helped in that regard, but they were in a race against time itself nonetheless.

“Paddle.” Pam then instructed a dumbfounded Eve and thrusted a worn plastic paddle into her arms. Eve just stared blankly, as Pam knelt down beside Villanelle to check her pulse and her breathing. Time seemed to stand still in those few seconds that felt like hours to the ex-MI6 agent. And then it stopped entirely, when she saw Pam shaking her head. Softly, and barely noticeable, but she did shake her head.

“Pam?”

And then the woman started doing rhythmic chest compressions. “Paddle. Now.” Pam instructed her once more, oddly calm, as she continued pressing down on V’s chest. As if on autopilot, Eve started paddling wildly, suddenly convinced that the shore would offer some kind of magical shelter that would make everything be okay again. She just needed to get to the shore as quickly as possible.

“We need to get her to a hospital right now.”

“Damn it, we can’t go to a fucking hospital! That will lead whoever shot her right to us. We might as well just knock on that person’s door.” Eve replied harshly, waving her free hand about wildly. Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Pam didn’t say anything for a while. Eve was just about to call her out on it, but the sound of a rip cracking beneath Pam’s hands was too much for her to bare. Nausea rolled over her and she quickly turned her head to the side, spilling all the remaining contents in her stomach into the river. It was all too much for her petite body to handle. The boat swayed dangerously, as she leaned over the edge and she just so managed to catch herself before she would have landed in the river once more.

The sound of someone gasping for air and coughing had Eve whip her head back violently.

“Vill! Oh my god!” The words spilled out of her mouth and everything else was forgotten, as she rushed to help Villanelle sit up a little to be able to breathe better. “Hey, it’s okay, just try to take deep breaths,” she told her, trying to soothe the blonde who was clearly struggling to get enough air into her lungs.

“W- wow,” she sputtered in between breaths, “That’s really great ad- advice,” She finally seemed to calm down a little. “Thank you, Eve.” It was not possible to overhear the irony in her voice and even if the words had Eve roll her eyes, they were also a clear sign that at least for now, Villanelle seemed to be okay. The – albeit weak – lopsided smirk that followed allowed Eve to breathe a little easier again too.

“I hate you,” she muttered under her breath and somehow, they both knew it actually meant the opposite.

Their moment was quickly interrupted though, as Villanelle groaned in pain, followed by another coughing fit, which in turn only made everything hurt even more. Every fiber of her being was aching and even though she had experienced a hand full of different injuries over the years with the Twelve, none of them came close to this. Carefully, in an effort not to intensify the throbbing and gnawing in her body, she tried to get a feel for all the injuries she had sustained. She counted two bleeding wounds from gunshots and two broken rips.

“It hurts,” she whispered softly, her words only directed at Eve. A lone tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. The vulnerability totally caught Eve of guard. But Villanelle looked so incredibly small and lost in that moment and damn it, if all Eve wanted to do was kiss the pain away than that was that.

Instead, Eve gently cupped the blonde’s face with her hands, carefully brushing the tear away. This was all uncharted territory, for both of them. “I know, I know, Vil-“ she mumbled with the same softness, surprising even herself, “But we are going to fix that, okay? You are going to be fine.”  

And there it was again that warm feeling inside of her chest. That indescribable, unbelievable, new feeling that Villanelle enjoyed and detested at the same time.

Pam cleared her throat, seemingly a little bit uncomfortable, as she interrupted their moment. It was only then that Eve noticed that they had reached a small dock. Pam must have continued paddling, while her only focus had been Villanelle. But Eve hadn’t even noticed the way she herself was chilled to the bone. Because for a short while, the rest of the world had just melted away, leaving only her and Villanelle.

“I have…” She struggled to find the right word. “A friend… that could help us, if you really don’t want to go to a hospital.”

Villanelle, who seemingly had only now noticed the other woman in the boat – or she had blatantly ignored her before – squinted her eyes at Pam. “What are you doing here?” Her pain contorted face had quickly been replaced by a neutral expression that now morphed into an amused one, as she put the pieces together. “Did you just give me mouth to mouth?”

The addressed woman just shrugged and nodded. “Interesting.” Villanelle commented. Eve looked at her pointedly.

“What?” the blonde asked innocently, “No need to be jealous, baby.”

Eve just shook her head, because of course Villanelle would find a way to get under her skin even while the ex-assassin was quite literally bleeding out in her arms, and turned towards Pam, “Who is that friend exactly?”

“A doctor. We studied together for some time. And she owes me, so.”

“And why should we trust you? And her?”

“I just saved you, didn’t I?” Pam replied and Eve had to admit that that was a pretty good argument. And it wasn’t like there were people lining up to help them anyway. And even if they were, after what had just happened, how could they possibly know who was to be trusted and who wasn’t? Pam was their very best – and very likely their only – chance.

“Hey!” Villanelle interjected loudly and immediately regretted it, as it was followed by a feeling that could only be described as a stab right into her chest, but at least she got Eve and Pam’s attention. “Might I remind you that I am the one with the life threatening injuries here?” She tried to sound somewhat nonchalant, not comfortable with the vulnerability she had displayed when she had still been groggy from coming back from the dead. But her accent was a lot thicker than usual and she looked awfully white in the dark night.

She turned to Pam, “Does that friend have any morphine?”

Pam nodded unceremoniously. Eve looked alarmed, but tried to swallow back the fear that seemed to have manifested as a lump in her throat.

“Let’s go get you fixed up then, baby.”

Notes:

Hey hey :) I just watched Killing Eve a few weeks ago and I still can't (and won't) believe that this is really how it ends, so of course I had to write something to fix it. I did some research about the gunshot wounds and everything, but I am not a doctor haha so this is probably not medically accurate, although I tried to make it as realistic as possible.
Anyway I hope you enjoyed this piece & hopefully until next time :)