Work Text:
❝ Maybe we both die. Probably. But maybe not. Maybe, maybe everything works out, and we end up somewhere else. ❞
Basira immediately tried to take in her surroundings as much as possible. She didn't know where she was anymore or what she was doing, but she knew something was different. Not wrong, but very much different.
She didn't look at the sky. She was more afraid of it being different than it being the same. The distinct feeling of being watched was strangely absent, but she knew better than to think she was out of the woods. Figuratively and literally. There were trees all around her and while there was some blocking her line of view, she could tell there were others in front of her. Despite her better judgment, she went to them.
Georgie caught her attention first. Her hair was disheveled and spread out around her, all kinds of leaves from above falling into it. The yellows and reds blended perfectly into it but the soft browns were more remicient of her closed eyes. Not that Basira spent a lot of time looking into her eyes, but the way Melanie talked about her over the many times the two got drinks, Basira's thoughts about Georgie took on a poetic tone.
Melanie had to be close by with Georgie near. After they began living together, they seemed to be joined by the hip more often than not. They were apart when Melanie was at work, plotting Elias' death, but when they had free time, they were together. The lack of death or panic or fear in the air meant they had to be near, even unconscious.
"Hey. Hey, wake up." Basira shook Georgie slightly, Georgie waking with a jolt. Georgie didn't feel fear, but the sudden turn of unconscious to conscious after everything they felt through made even her wake with a shock.
"Basira," She sighed, taking a deep breath before looking around and staring right into the sky. Her mouth dropped open as she seemed to gather thoughts, overwhelmed. Basira finally looked up and found nothing but clear blue, no eyes or fear to be seen. "Melanie. Where's Melanie?"
"I haven't found her yet, but she has to be close by," Basira explained, rising from her knees to look for her friend.
Georgie nodded, jumping to her feet and fearlessly winding through trees. Basira followed close by, though with more caution.
"We should split up." Georgie said into tense silence, being broken up by only a slight birdsong on the wind shaking the trees. More fell. Basira forgot to mention the ones in her hand.
"Huh?"
"There doesn't seem to be anything here but birds and squirrels, and even if not, we have to find more if we're apart. Don't go too far, alright?"
Georgie walked into dense woods as Basira spotted some stones. She began walking to what she thought was a creek but turned out to be some kind of stony shore, trying to keep her ear out for Georgie's receding footsteps.
When she didn't see any human shaped beings, she almost turned, before seeing a familiar looking box closer to the ocean than anything. She hesitantly pressed a button, the wheels immediately beginning to turn. "Huh," she shifted on her feet, kneeling down, "Still works."
"You found something?" Georgie called, voice getting closer.
"Just one of the old tape recorders." Basira called back, picking it up.
Georgie was out of the woods now, Melanie on her arm, "God, tough little bastards, aren’t they?"
"Yup."
"No luck?" Melanie asked, Georgie sighing beside her with a frown.
"No. Still no sign of them." The two must've discussed looking for Jon and Martin while Basira found the tape recorder.
Quickly, Basira switched her mindset to looking for the other two, "No bodies, though. That’s a good sign, maybe?"
"Maybe," Georgie was extremely worried, and her face clearly showed it.
"Huh." Melanie said succinctly, facing turning round and round with unseeing eyes. The bandages over where her eyes should've been had slight blood stains on the lowest circle and was wrapped messily, but she somehow looked more put together then she had before. "Maybe they didn't make it. Maybe they're gone.''
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
Hospitals were loud naturally, but the amount of sound happening now in the room of John Doe was decidedly not a good sign. He had been discovered in a campground with no phone, no tent, no wallet. Nothing. He had one open stab wound with countless injuries like something had dug into his skin, several healed over scars adorning his body.
Found near him was another man with nothing. Police and hospital staff knew they had to have some connection but until either awoke, there was nothing anyone could do. But the beeping. Someone was waking up.
