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Mercy crouched, trying to lower herself to the ground as much as possible, like it would help hide from the typhoon. It didn’t help, as she felt her feet leave the ground, wind picking her up from under her wings and beginning to pull her with it. She tried kicking her legs as if it would help her find the ground again, but her kicking stopped when she held the front of her shirt get tight. Moira had grabbed the front of her shirt and was holding on tight.
“Grab onto something!!” Moira shouted, her red and blue eyes glowing with worry and determination to hold on. Her right arm was wrapped around a lamp post.
Mercy was having a hard time with trying to figure out where she was, and the only thing she could see to hold onto was Moira. But she wasn’t wearing gloves, and although she could try and reach for Moira’s sleeves, the wind was pulling as her suit, making it feel like she was pulling tons trying to control any of her limbs. “No! I can’t!”
Mercy could hear Moira straining trying to keep grip hold of her shirt, but she could also feel every millimetre of her grip slipping, bit by bit.
“It’s fine.” Mercy said, “It’s fine! Just let me go already!” She could almost hear Moira scowl as she shouted at her. “If I’m going to die then that’s fine! Today was just my time to die!”
“It’s fine…! I’ve always been ready to die!”
Her shirt escaped Moira’s grip. It happened quick and she was waiting for it to slip, but that didn’t stop the gasp from leaving her lips as she was once again lifted by wind beneath her wings, like huge umbrellas. The wind whistled past her ears and she closed her eyes, hoping it would be the last time.
She wondered what it would be like to finally die. How painful would it be? Would she finally feel what others felt from touching her, or would her death be instantaneous? Was it better to having your life force sucked out of you, or for it to all be gone in a flash?
Something gripped Mercy’s hand and her eyes flashed open. She flung her head back and realised that Moira was grabbing her bare hand with her own, other arm still outstretched and holding on to the bent light post. She let out a shout with closed eyes as she pulled with immense effort, pulled Mercy closer to her and wrapped her arm around her chest, ensuring she wouldn’t fly away again. Her wings were pressed between the two of them, still being blown around as the wind pulled the feathers in awkward directions.
A feeling of surprise stirred inside of Mercy, a tinge of anger mixed along in there too.
“Why did you touch my hand?! Do you want to die?!” Mercy yelled.
“Of course I don’t fucking want to die!” Moira yelled back. Despite the noise, Mercy could hear a brief pause, “How much life did I lose just now?!”
The anger faded and it was refilled with a sense of sadness as Mercy thought, before saying “About 2 months…”
Realisation shone over Moira’s eyes. “If you want to die, then go some place far away from me to do it, please..” “I’ve had enough of watching people die in front of my eyes…” Moira spoke directly into Angela’s ear, her voice clear despite the noise surrounding them. She could hear a sadness in her deep voice, and wondered whether she was crying.
Both of Moira’s arms were wrapped around Mercy’s front. The wind blew harsh, wood and foil and paper flew past them. Mercy felt Moira squeeze her shoulders, a foreign pressure in a new location. She felt Moira’s warmth through her shirt sleeves under her chin, not the same type of warmth from her wings, nor the kind of warmth from an explosion. It was hard to focus on the feeling, searching for it through the wind blowing and blond hair whipping around her face, but it was there, warm and tight, safe.