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Nat doesn’t know what draws her towards the attic. She’s been avoiding Lottie for weeks now and she’s finally made peace with Travis, so there’s really no reason to head up there, but she does.
When she gets there, Misty shoots straight up so fast that she scares Nat as much as Nat clearly scared her.
“Jesus Christ,” she mumbles, gloved hand gripping the front of her jacket, over her heart.
Misty scrambles to get her glasses on. “Natalie?”
“My bad, sorry,” Nat offers, staying in her spot at the top of the ladder and keeping her eyes on Misty instead of the unconscious girl at her side. “I didn’t know you were sleeping.”
“No, it’s okay, I needed to get up anyway,” Misty says. “I can’t sleep for too long or too deeply in case Lottie needs me. I’ve just been taking small cat naps when I can.” She leans over the aforementioned girl to make sure that she’s still sleeping and breathing steadily, then looks back up at Nat and pats the empty space on her other side. “Come, sit. What brings you up here?”
Nat glances back down the ladder, having no real answer and asking herself the same question again before deciding to commit to her decision anyway. It can’t be any worse up here than it is down there.
“Just thought you might want some company,” she says as she walks around Lottie’s prone body and takes the blanket Misty hands her, folding it up and dropping down on it beside her.
“That was nice of you,” Misty smiles, pushing her glasses up her nose as she studies Nat.
Already uncomfortable with the attention, Nat nods towards the battered girl. “How’s she doing?”
Misty’s face falls as she follows Nat’s gaze. She reaches out to brush some of Lottie’s tangled hair out of her bruised and swollen face.
“Honestly? Not very good,” she admits, sad and brutally honest.
“Shit,” is all Nat can say, remembering the conversation she had with Coach earlier.
The guilt churns in her gut, even though she still thinks what she said is true. She’s always liked Lottie despite their differences, thinks she’s got a good heart, but there could be worse losses out here. Ones without any silver linings.
“I was hoping it looked worse than it was, but there was blood in her urine, and well, I’m not exactly a trained medical doctor but I know enough to know that’s never a good sign,” Misty continues in a whisper, as if she’s trying to keep it a secret from Lottie, or like speaking any louder will hurt her more.
“Fuck,” Nat breathes out this time, the severity of her injuries settling in. “What do you think it is?”
Misty turns away from Lottie, back to Nat, and shrugs helplessly. “Probably something with her kidneys.”
Nat flashes back to the other night, to the sounds both Lottie and Shauna were making as they all stood around and watched the beating take place, and her guilt turns to shame.
“We shouldn’t have let Shauna wail on her for that long.”
“I’m not sure any of us could have stopped her,” Misty argues, pressing her fingers to her face where Shauna had hit her. “And, well, it seems like it worked, at least.”
“Yeah, for now,” Nat scoffs. “But if Lottie dies, how do you think Shauna’s gonna feel then?”
“She’s not gonna die,” Misty snaps, and it’s a good thing she’s obviously just trying to convince herself, because Nat isn’t buying it.
“Oh yeah? Is the Wilderness gonna heal her or something?”
Something familiar flashes in Misty’s eyes, something Nat has noticed before, but she smothers it quickly.
“Maybe,” she mumbles, not fooling anymore.
“Come on, Misty,” Nat pushes, rolling her eyes. “I know you don’t actually believe in that shit.”
Nat’s not sure any of them really do, but she’s sure Misty doesn’t. She’s too pragmatic to buy into that kind of thing; she’s just desperate enough to belong to pretend to.
“Maybe I don’t,” Misty admits easily, lying back down in her makeshift bed and looking up at Nat. “But can you really say with absolute certainty that it’s not real? Consider everything that’s happened since the crash.”
Nat hates that she can’t argue, at least not confidently.
All she can do is sigh, move her blanket up high enough to be a pillow, and lie down on the cold attic floor beside Misty.
“I might not have an explanation for all the weird shit that’s happened out here,” Nat concedes, head lulled to the side so she’s looking at the other girl. “But I do know that if Lottie survives this, it’ll be because of you. Not It.”
“No. No, it won’t. You don’t know what I…” Misty trails off, blinking back tears that have welled up suddenly, and looks away. “I can’t save anyone.”
“Are you insane? How fucking hard did Shipman hit you?” Nat wonders. “We’d all be fucked out here if it wasn’t for you.”
Misty shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut, looking frazzled in a way Nat has only ever seen her once.
“No, you don’t understand, I… I—”
Nat reaches over and covers Misty’s trembling fist with her hand to still it. “You’ve kept us alive.”
She’s not sure whether it’s her touch or her words that get through to Misty and ground her, but she seems to steel herself quickly, sucking in a few deep breaths to calm herself down.
“Not Crystal,” Misty whispers after a long minute of silence. She swallows and turns her Nat as she adds, “Not the baby.”
Nat feels bad that she had forgotten all about Misty’s little best friend, but in her defense, a lot of shit has happened since then and Nat’s not sure she’s ever spoken a word to Crystal before.
Still, she was obviously Misty’s person out here and now she’s gone, and Misty’s alone again. Nat knows how important it is to have any kind of reprieve out here.
For some of them, it’s a person - or it was. For others, she guesses it’s Lottie’s bullshit.
“We don’t know what happened to Crystal. She could still be alive out there like Javi was.” They both know the odds of that are close to zero, but Nat’s clearly been wrong before. She wouldn’t mind being wrong again. “If you want, I’ll go out and look for her tomorrow for you.”
Misty’s mouth wobbles, clearly touched by Nat’s offer, even if she’s as pessimistic about what she’ll find as Nat is. “Really?”
“I could use the fresh air.” Nat shrugs, not a fan of gratitude. She realizes, then, that she’s still holding Misty’s hand, and pulls it away, shoving it into her jacket pocket. She fights the urge to look away, not wanting this second part to lose any of its effect. “And as for the baby… You did everything you could to save him. We all saw you.”
“Shauna doesn’t think so,” Misty reminds her, wincing as if the girl in question has just hit her all over again.
“Shauna is insane with grief and looking for someone to blame,” Nat counters evenly. “That doesn’t mean you deserve it.”
“But what if I do deserve it?” Misty wonders, voice thick with a kind of guilt Nat recognizes. She glances at Lottie for a moment before her gaze settles on the ceiling. “Maybe I should have let Shauna beat me instead of Lottie.”
“Then we’d really be fucked,” Nat snorts, curling her fist, holding herself back from reaching out again. “We really fucking need you out here, Misty.”
Misty shakes her head. “Not as much as they need Lottie.”
“Well, Lottie needs you to survive right now,” Nat argues, feeling a smug smile tugging at the corner of her mouth when Misty looks back at her. She knows she’s right. “So stop blaming yourself for shit that’s not your fault.”
Nat knows better than anyone what an impossible task that is, but she’s asking Misty to try it anyway. Maybe she’ll have more success than Nat’s had.
She doesn’t know Misty well enough to know if she will - try or succeed - and Misty makes no promises either way.
Instead, she turns the tables on Nat.
“We wouldn’t be able to survive out here without you either,” Misty says softly, searching Nat’s face for any sign that she believes her. “You know that, right? We need you too.”
Nat knows she’d be a huge hypocrite if she pushed back, so she just rolls her eyes and trains them on the ceiling.
“Yeah? Try telling Mari that.”
“Mari’s a brat,” Misty replies, so simply it sounds more like a fact than an insult. “And a bitch.”
Despite the grief clogging her throat, a surprised laugh manages to find its way out.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear, Quigley, but you’re not wrong,” Nat smirks, thankful for levity. She takes hold of it and uses it to stir the conversation towards its conclusion. “You should get some sleep.”
Misty shakes her head, immediately starting to sit up. “But Lottie-”
“I’ll watch her,” Nat cuts her off, reaching over to push the smaller girl back down.
Misty looks torn, between her trust in Nat and her perpetual need to be doing something useful. But she must be able to tell Nat’s not going to budge - or maybe she’s just that exhausted - because she gives in without much fight.
“Promise to wake me up if she does or says anything weird,” Misty tells her firmly.
Nat raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that Lottie’s default?”
“Nat, I’m serious.” Misty scrunches her face and narrows her eyes and Nat thinks it’s supposed to be intimidating. “Promise me,” she demands, holding up a pinky for the most sacred of vows.
“Yeah, yeah, you got it, doc,” Nat agrees, rolling her eyes again but still hooking their pinkies together. “I promise.”
That seems to satisfy Misty, who holds her gaze for another few moments before she turns onto her side, facing Nat, and curls her body up, used to taking up as little space as possible after the past few months.
Nat sits up so she can drape the blanket Misty gave her over her small, shivering body, and takes watch as she sleeps.