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Would any of them ever recover from Oakhurst? They had loved people, lost people. Experienced death, experienced killing. As Shelby opened a weathered old diary and got a pencil out of her bag, she wondered what would come. What would come out of what they had suffered? What could come?
She had been writing for a while when Scott walked in. He seemed surprised to see her. Why, Shelby couldn't imagine, as they had taken this train together, with Drift. Hand in hand. Claiming to be ready for what would come.
"Shelby! You're awake?"
"Scott, we don't need to sleep."
"Yes, but it would do you well to get some rest. It's a long journey." It was, wasn't it? Hours of sitting in this metal box. Trying to escape from that place. Could they ever really escape? Shelby ran a hand through their long hair, resisting the urge to pull on it until it fell out. She hardly noticed him sitting down on the seat next to her.
"Drift is sleeping," he informed her pointedly. Of course she was. Words burned in her throat, choking her. Of course Drift was sleeping, Drift was better then her. She had been loyal, stayed true to the town. To Avid. Dear Avid, lost to the cruelty of Owen and the jealousy of Pyro. Drift was always better than her. She was brilliant. Brave. Kind.
She slept, when Shelby had stayed awake. Wallowing in sadness. Wallowing in self-pity, and pity for those lost to the soil of Oakhurst.
A hand came to rest gently on her shoulder. Scott's hand.
"Shelby?"
They closed their eyes, breathing hard, trying to calm herself down. Scott was talking to her. Saying something. Shelby didn't know what. She didn't know anything. She-
"Shelby!"
Scott's voice. Grounding her. Taking them back, back to here, here on this train. Here with Scott and Drift, and here to the future that was waiting for them all.
She was crying. When did she start crying? Shelby turned away from him, trying to hide despite the fact he could clearly see them shaking.
"Shelby, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm— I'm fine!" She faked a smile, knowing that it looked like a grimace. Scott didn't need to know, didn't need to be burdened with the—
He grabbed her shoulders and turned her towards him, making her look at him. There was hair in her face, long white locks obscuring her view.
Scott should know, heck, Scott needed to know. He had gone through all the things she had. Maybe worse. He had loved Avid, she'd known that, even if he hadn't. And Avid had died, and left them all behind, messy and hurting and missing him.
They had been told, back there, that people like them couldn't feel. Couldn't love, couldn't miss others. Shelby knew that wasn't true. Even the worst of the vampires had loved; love might have even been part of the reason for what they did. They had done many things, some of which, even most, had been bad, but they had all loved and cared for someone.
Scott deserved to know why she was crying.
So they told him, and he listened. And she could see that sometimes he didn't know what to do, but that was okay, and she told him that too. Scott might have been one of the worst of them, but he was trying to move on and be worthy of forgiveness. That, at least, she knew.
Finally, standing up and stretching, Shelby yawned. Maybe they did need sleep. Not now, though. She was restless; she needed air. Ghostly quiet, like a wraith, she drifted down the empty train, knowing Scott was following. As she stepped out onto the observation platform, she inhaled the crisp morning air, pale skin stinging from the cold. They had talked the night away. This journey would be over soon.
As she felt the folds of her skirt billowed around her in the wind, Shelby took that back. This group, their little trio, their journey was far from over. They would travel for the rest of time, living on, immortal, as vampires do. Moving on, from that town, from the people, from the deaths. From the mess they had left behind. They would be fine, if not now, then someday.
"Shelby! Scott!"
The pair turned around to see Drift walking briskly towards them. Beautiful Drift, pale shoulder length hair flowing in the wind. They embraced for a quick second, then looked out, holding on to the railing. The three of them, on this train, on this journey. Together. And that's how they would stay.
Looking forward to the future.