Glory and gore - 𝟙𝟘𝕜.

SEASON TWO; X̅

"I'm such an idiot," she thought aloud, before taking off running again. 

This time, she felt more motivated, knowing she was running back to him. 

Her legs began burning, but she didn't stop. No, her chest kept heaving and pushing oxygen to her limbs, propelling her forwards. 

She reached down to her knife, kept safely in its holster, and held it as she ran. She'd need it, for sure. 

"Tommy!" 

A branch came out of nowhere and smacked her across the face, thin and flexible. She hissed as she came to a stop, pressing a gentle hand to try and relieve the stinging sensation. 

Her chest ached from running, but it was her heart that ached when she heard his cry of pain, not too far from where she was. 

Finally, she careened into the clearing. 

Tommy was flat on his back, cradling Cassandra to his chest. Something in her chest crumbled, because even from here, she could see the woman wasn't breathing. 

"Tommy?" She called tentatively, not sure if he'd heard. If he did hear her, she couldn't tell. 

Carefully, she walked ever so slowly across the dried grass, getting closer to him. Faintly, she thought she heard crying, although perhaps it was her own. 

He rolled over, so Cassandra's corpse was splayed on the ground. Still as a statue, (y/n) watched the broken boy stare emptily at her face. 

"Tommy," she repeated his name, but still he didn't answer. 

So, she put her hand gently on his shoulder, waiting until he looked at her. 

He didn't. 

Instead, he angrily wiped his face and pushed past her, leaving the girl stunned into silence. 

"Where are you going?" She called after him, jogging to catch up with his long strides. Just as she was about to reach out and grab his arm, he spun around. 

"I told you to run!" His voice rose, but she noticed how it broke with emotion too. 

"I know! But I heard her trying to kill you," (y/n) defended herself "are you okay?" 

"Yeah, fine." 

With that, he stepped around her outstretched arms, and back to Cassandra's corpse. 

"Let me help," she offered quietly, but he was faster. 

Within seconds, he had Cassandra in his arms. (y/n) didn't know how to feel as she watched him go and carry her into a small ditch. 

He was burying her. 

Of course he was. 

Wordlessly, she grabbed a shovel and pushed it towards his chest and grabbed one for herself. Not waiting for permission, she began digging. 

                                   ➳He still hadn't spoken, and by now they were throwing the final scoopfuls of dirt into Cassandra's final resting place. It was a shallow grave, but meaningful nonetheless.

"You were a good friend," (y/n) murmured to the mound, as Tommy threw his now-useless shovel to the side. Even though she couldn't see him, she had a feeling he was staring blankly at her grave.

She knew exactly what it felt like, the guilt of surviving while another died. 

It was perhaps even worse for him, though, knowing that he killed someone he used to love and adore.