Gods and Monsters ~ Mad Maggie x reader

16

Grief is a son of a bitch.

The first few days after I lost him, after he died in my arms; I couldn't move. I was a shell of a woman, bound to my bed. I didn't cry, I merely sat, waited. Waited for the feeling to pass. The feelings of rage, of sadness and my most shameful emotion; relief.

The sickest, most twisted part of me was somehow relieved that Carl had died. What was i relieved about? I had no idea. Was it the fact he wouldn't have to fight anymore? Wouldn't have to endure the hardships he would've been forced to face on Salvo? Maybe... Or maybe, it was the small part of myself that had never forgiven them for being born. It was selfish, it was cruel, and I was a horrible person for it. But no matter what I tried, no matter what future I imagined for him, the feeling of relief always persisted.

Walter actually was the one to get me to leave my room. He would take Johnny on walks to try and comfort him, he would always offer me an invitation to which I would decline almost instantly. Although, after a particularly bad day, I felt the need to accept his offer. I don't remember much of the walk, but I do remember him embracing me before I returned to my bed.

"It'll get easier after this, I promise." That's what he said. To a mother grieving her child. What part of this would get easier? The guilt I felt. The pain I felt every time I walked past his and Johnny's room. None of this would get easier, I was sure of it.

I became so obsessed with proving him wrong that eventually, my mind began to drift away from the tragedy. It began to drift towards placing the blame. I felt... angry. At someone, anyone. Someone would say something wrong to me, offer me the wrong thing, mumble something under their breath and suddenly, in my mind, they were the villain. Not me. Them.

I fought with myself, twisted, and turned in my sheets until I was satisfied with a conclusion. The soldiers. It was the soldiers. Had they not harassed and assaulted that girl then Carl wouldn't have felt the need to become a freedom fighter to protect her. Had they not been on Salvo in the first place, he would still be here.

It was only then when I had a justified villain, that I was ready face the world.

I returned to the Church, for what, I wasn't quite sure. I struggled with the door; my arms felt like they were about to snap off at the joints. I didn't struggle for long before Maggie ran towards me. She grabbed my shoulders and stared at me; I didn't want to meet her eyes. She put her hand on the back of my head and rested her forehead against mine. She whispered something to me in Māori, something I didn't understand.

"Are you ok?" She asked me, removing her forehead from mine, and keeping my head still secured in her hand. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"You never visited." I said, my voice breaking from weeks of not talking.

"I- I know. I thought that I would break if I saw you." Her voice jumped and octave and she coughed, turning her head from me. There was an uncomfortable silence. "I'm glad you're up out of bed." I hummed. More silence.

"Did you find who did it?" I asked her, she seemed taken aback by my forwardness and the stern tone in my voice.

"We did. It was a small group from the next town over... all of em' are dead." I nodded.

"That's good."

"Did you... bury him?" She couldn't bear to look in my eyes when she asked this, she instead averted her gaze to the floor.

"Yes... it was... painful. He was wrapped up in cloth the last time I saw him, I didn't know they did that."

"Yeah, they do. My grandpa was wrapped in cloth before being buried."

"Maggie..." I started "I... I'm angry at them. At the soldiers." Her face remained still but her eyes betrayed her. They had a look of pleasure in them. A look of 'finally! She gets it'

"I get it." She didn't pry, didn't care about how I came to this conclusion. She didn't care that the soldiers didn't shoot Carl, she only cared that we shared the same feeling. In many of our conversations, I had condoned violence. Said I had never and would never take a life. She said we 'agree to disagree'. "I... There's a camp a few miles out. Became active while you were... grieving. Wally never likes getting em when they're in big groups like that, tells me it's a suicide wish. But... if you want to take your anger out on them, we can watch, wait for one or two to separate." She seemed apprehensive, although her voice was higher, like a schoolgirl gushing about some boy band.

"Now?" I asked her.

"Yeah."

"Let's do it."

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Ok i actually really like this one, not so much the next on im about to publish (like im literally punblishing it in a second)

Also this is so short because if i wouldve realised it all in one chapter it wouldve been literally 2500 words long and yeah.