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Truce

Summary:

Edward Collins tries his best to be strong for his faction, the Resurgents, but he's suffered too great a loss to easily recover. But how can he let emotions get the best of him when he has his mortal enemy right across the border?

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

As long as he’d known Veronica, Edward had been a cheery individual. Veronica’s unconditionally kind nature, and her gentle smile, her humility and her talent… Everything about her left Edward dizzy with admiration, and their wedding day had to have been one of the greatest days of Edward’s life.

 

The day of Veronica’s death, on the other hand, was the worst day of Edward’s life without a doubt. He lost his little genius and his beautiful wife, all in the span of twenty-four hours. It was still all too vivid in his mind how Veronica smiled at him, albeit weakly, and how she told Edward to take care of their daughters and take care of himself. Her honey-blonde hair, ruffled and askew and messy and unkempt; and framed behind that hair the most beautiful blue eyes that Edward had ever been lucky enough to gaze into. Just thinking about it made him sick. His martyr of a wife had let herself die for the sake of protecting her dear family.

 

And of course, there was Leo. Poor Leo. Edward still recalled how he stumbled upon the sight of a whole pack of zombie-vamps lunging at his defenseless son. He had sprung into action, Veronica by his side, but as he beat off the zombie-vamps, Veronica cried out that Leo was infected. And that shattered Edward to the very core. He had fought harder than ever, and once he had the chance, he bolted to his son’s side, and asked if there was any chance that Leo could survive.

 

It was a hard no.



“He’s already got a high fever,” Veronica fretted quietly. “Feel his forehead.”

 

Leo coughed. “I’m fine, just a little… warm.”

 

Veronica quirked a brow skeptically, and her face was tight and cold, and when Edward looked at her, he saw the tears that welled up in her eyes, tears that she was fighting with all of her might. She held Leo close to her and whispered, “Edward, you need to go.”

 

“Go? What do you mean I need to go?”

 

Edward was genuinely puzzled by Veronica’s request. Was he to get backup? Rations and water? He took a step closer to Veronica to ask for elaboration, but to his surprise, she cried out, “Stay away!”

 

“Veronica, I don’t understand. What do you—”

 

“I got scratched.”

 

Edward went quiet. He didn’t know how to reply. How to react. He just scanned Veronica’s body in search of this supposed scratch. Then he saw it. Along the arm of his sweet, dear wife, dirt and blood trailed downwards, fading by the time it reached her wrist, and starting somewhere on her upper arm. The angry wound was swollen with puffy redness that almost seemed to pulsate, and when Edward gently reached to touch it, Veronica winced and recoiled. This reaction caused Edward to draw back carefully but swiftly. Edward hurried to pull out some bandages that he kept in his bag, but Veronica refused the help. “Save it for someone who needs it,” she said with gentle resignation. “I’m sure I’m infected now, too. And I’m staying with Leo.” Veronica ran a hand over Leo’s head, gently ruffling his russet hair, and then she looked toward Edward and smiled weakly. “You need to go back. Get back to the others. I’m going to stay far away… with Leo. Hopefully… Hopefully you won’t see us again. I want you to remember me as your wife…” Veronica hesitated, and when she spoke again, she croaked, “I don’t want you to remember me as an infected zombie-vamp.”

 

Edward knew exactly what she meant, and that absolutely broke him. He was quaking. Trembling. He looked like he was about to break down, and Veronica picked up on this easily. She offered another smile. “Take care of Mabeline—Err, Mabes—and Serena for me, please. Make sure that Sam Finnick treats our rainbow girl right. Please.”

 

“Of course,” whispered Edward, “anything, Ronnie.”

 

Veronica just smiled. “I love you, Ed.”

 

Edward could only croak, “I love you too.”

 

Then he smiled at Leo. “My little genius… I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.” Oh, how he longed to charge forward and take his wife and son in his arms and hug and kiss them goodbye… But he couldn’t risk infection. And that broke him. So he just smiled at Leo, who replied, “I… I love you too.”

 

Then Veronica gave him a little nod, and Edward hesitated for a moment, but the growling of zombie-vamps in the distance made him hurry a little more. He bolted like a wolf mute after a defenseless loner. He didn't stop until he reached the bunker where the rest of Undaunted waited with bated breath.

 

And when Edward explained to Mabes and Serena what happened, Mabes just frowned. Serena paused for a second, as if registering her father’s words, and then she cried. Edward cried with her. They mourned and mourned for the rest of the week. Mabes grew distant and quiet. Sam and Ben simply carried on.



Serena glanced up at her father as they patrolled the outskirts of their territory. A week had passed since Edward became a widow, and though he still quietly grieved, he carried on, tougher than ever. “Father?” the young blonde woman piped up.

 

“Yes, Serena?” Edward glanced down at Serena with eyes that were not hard and cold. They were filled with the warmth that Edward now reserved only for his daughters. Serena seemed to relax when she saw his kind eyes, welcoming her. She sighed.

 

After a moment of hesitation, she asked softly, “Do you think Mom and Leo are out there somewhere?”

 

Edward responded tightly, “I wouldn’t doubt it. But I hope they’re somewhere far away from here.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I want to remember your mother as she was in life. I don’t want my last memory of her to be a half-decayed walking corpse.”

 

Serena’s head tilted to the side. Edward could hear the gears turning in her clever head before she replied, “That makes sense. That makes… a lot of sense.”

 

Edward nodded. “Your mother wanted it that way too.”

 

“... Do you think she died happy?”

 

“I think she died content knowing that I’m still here to take care of you and your sister.”

 

Serena smiled mournfully to herself. “I miss her.”

 

For a long moment, longer than it should have been, Edward was silent. Then, with a voice stiffer than ice, “I miss her too.”

 

And then Edward felt a gentle hand on his broad shoulder. Serena whispered, “We’ll be okay.”

 

“I hope so, Serena. I hope so.”

 

Then Edward heard skulking footsteps in the distance. Instantly, he was on guard, and he held his gun at the ready. He scanned his surroundings, but with the nuclear winter (which was nearing its end, seemingly, thank God), it wasn’t exactly easy to see. There were some patches of dead underbrush and foliage and shriveled up plant life that used to thrive before the asteroid collision, but as far as Edward could see, there was no moving being. But there were no growls or groans, so Edward could easily deduce that there were no mutes or zombie-vamps in the vicinity. So, he decided to call out. “Who’s there?”

 

Out of the dark smog came a face that Edward met with contempt. He took a step forward. “Beatrice Wiggin. You’re awfully close to our territory.”

 

“I came to see Veronica.”

 

And how it stung, knowing that Veronica was the thread of peace that kept the Undaunted and Resurgents from breaking out into full-blown war. While she may have been Undaunted, she never let her friendship with Beatrice fade. Edward stared at Beatrice, who raised a brow and asked, “What’s wrong?”

 

“She’s gone.”

 

Silence.

 

Then Beatrice broke it.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Edward exhaled sharply and explained with a voice that he had to fight to keep steady, “Leo ran off. He was gone for a while. Veronica and I went to search for him and rescue him… And when we found him, he- he was- Leo was already getting all scratched up by those God-damned zombie-vamps. And- And I was fighting off the zombie-vamps.” Edward trailed off for a long minute. Serena gently patted his shoulder. Edward continued. “Veronica went to try and save Leo. Get him patched up. Apparently a zombie-vamp got to her and got her arm. She wouldn’t let me save her.”

 

“You didn’t save her?” Beatrice looked stung. “You watched your wife and son and didn’t even try to take them with you?” The Resurgent leader’s fist clenched in fury. “Do you know what I’d give for the chance to save Jasper? Do you know what I’d give to have been there? Do you know what I’d give just to even try ?” Tears, bitter with betrayal, welled up in Beatrice’s stormy eyes, and she cried out, “Edward, you left my best friend to die!”

 

And she raised her gun.

 

Edward hissed and, instinctively, he raised his own gun. And he was ready to shoot.

 

Beatrice coldly snarled, “I wouldn’t mind if you said hello to Jasper and Veronica for me. Send her my kindest regards.”

 

“You can greet them yourself,” replied Edward. “If you want to see your husband again so desperately.”

 

“And what about Veronica? You’re leaving her all alone?” Bea challenged.

 

Edward swallowed a lump of anger and guilt and grief in his throat. Then, he answered, “She has Leo to take care of.”

 

Beatrice scoffed. “So not only did you leave your wife to die, but you left her to die with your son? Have you any humanity at all?”

 

“You’re the one threatening to shoot me.”

 

“And you’re the one who left your wife and child.”

 

Just as Edward rested his finger on the trigger, Serena yelled out, “Stop!!”

 

It was unexpected. Both faction leaders glanced at the young bookworm, who stood carefully still.

 

“Why should I stop?” asked Edward with a special kind of venom in his voice. “She was going to kill me first.”

 

“Would Mom want that?”

 

Edward was truly and genuinely stunned by this. He recoiled. Then he thought about it. He could almost feel Veronica’s loving arms surrounding him, her voice whispering in his ear, encouraging him to show mercy. He winced. Tears threatened to spill. He blinked them back and replied tightly, “No.”

 

Even Beatrice looked like she’d been stabbed by Serena’s simple words. She looked at Edward, the most vulnerable he had ever seen her, and she whispered, “She wouldn’t want us to fight.”

 

“So how about a truce?” Serena suggested. “A period of peace, just… just while we mourn. How does one month sound?”

 

Beatrice and Edward stared at each other, and Edward almost wondered if he was just looking at her to try and gauge her reaction. She broke eye contact first as she glanced at Serena and tightly nodded. “You have your mother’s intelligence,” she said, to which Serena nodded respectfully.

 

And the silence that followed was as awkward as a high school sex education course. Edward looked over his shoulder and then mumbled, “We should get back to the stronghold.”

 

“As should I,” agreed Beatrice. “So a truce. One month. May no blood be spilled… Or you will pay.”

 

“If you respect the truce, we will too,” Edward assured Beatrice before turning to Serena. The wheat-haired girl noticed her father’s gaze on her, and she seemed to know that Edward was nonverbally signaling to her to follow him home.

 

The walk back to the stronghold felt longer than usual, and the silence felt heavier. Usually, Edward would at least ask Serena about her day, and her annotated books that she salvaged before the nuclear winter started. Now, he was dwelling on the encounter that had just occurred. He mulled it over in his mind until it was all mush, like food in his mouth sitting too long. By the time they reached the stronghold, all he wanted was to sleep. But he still gathered Sam, Ben, and Mabes to make the announcement.

 

Mabes responded with a simple shrug. Sam grumbled about how they’d invade the territory and break the truce. Ben breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Even if it’s just a month, it’ll be heaven to have one less problem.”

 

“Don’t act like you have more responsibilities than just guarding the stronghold,” Edward coldly hissed. “This hardly affects you. Know your place, Finnick.”

 

And then Ben shrunk back. “Yes, General Collins.”

 

Edward had had enough authority for one day. He shook his head. “I’m turning in for the night.”

 

Serena nodded and wished him restful sleep, Mabes looked on, and Sam berated Ben for something or other. Edward trudged towards his sleeping quarters and when he laid down on the cot that used to be shared with another, he wept; he truly wept. He wept for the first time since the apocalypse first occurred. He remembered Veronica’s warmth, every night, the sound of her steady breathing lulling him to sleep. He recalled how she would still hum Eleanor Rigby to calm him down, or I Am the Walrus to make him smile. And he missed it so, so much.

 

“Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name. Nobody came. Father McKenzie, wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave… No one was saved.”

 

Edward missed her voice.

 

“All the lonely people. Where do they all come from? All the lonely people; where do they all belong?”

Notes:

second fic, second ao3 fic, yay

someone give me requests i wanna write more apocalypse fics 👺👺

i wrote this in the son of two hours, in the morning, please forgive me