- To be honest, I don’t know what to add here.

  - Maybe… “Forgive and forget?” Nah. Sounds like something people say when they don’t want to deal with it.

  - Maybe it’s about second chances. Maybe not.

  - Maybe I’ll figure it out someday. When I’m not stitched up like a Frankenstein pi?ata.

  ---

  Recovery sucks.

  I don’t mean in the “oh no, I’m so bored, boohoo” kind of way. I mean in the “every joint in my body feels like it lost a bar fight with a dumpster” kind of way.

  The cot creaked under me every time I shifted, which was annoying, since I shifted every thirty seconds. Couldn’t get comfortable. Too hot. Too cold. One leg cramping. The other doing some sort of twitchy dance.

  Welcome to Overhole’s VIP medical suite: one creaky cot, a stack of comic books missing every third page, and a rat we named “Senior Whiskers.”

  So I was extremely not ready for Alex’s voice to suddenly whisper, “Don’t scream.”

  Naturally, I screamed.

  “AHHHH—”

  “SHHH!” Alex clamped a hand over my mouth and hissed, “Do you want me to get crowbarred by Gail again?”

  I blinked. “...He crowbarred you?”

  “No, but he threatened to when I scared him during his nap.”

  I snorted, which turned into a wince because everything hurt. "I mean, I told you he's a human claymore."

  She pulled up a crate and sat beside me, unusually quiet. No cheeky grin, no snark. Just... wide eyes and fidgety fingers.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “Alright, what’s wrong?” I asked. “You look like you just saw Gail smile in public.”

  She didn’t laugh.

  Instead, she looked down. “You scared me.”

  The humor drained out of me immediately.

  “Alex—”

  “No. Shut up. Let me say this before I start crying like an anime side character.”

  I zipped it.

  She took a shaky breath. “When we found you in the mall, covered in blood, not moving… I thought you were gone. And I realized I never told you how much I care. Like, you’re not just ‘the idiot I loot things with’ or ‘my favorite roach in the apocalypse.’ You’re my brother, El. Not by blood, but by all the dumb things we’ve been through together.”

  The room went quiet. Even Senior Whiskers stopped chewing drywall.

  “I know,” I said softly. “I love you like a sister too.”

  She smiled, watery-eyed. “Good. ‘Cause if you blackout-rampage again and die on us, I’ll bring you back just to slap you.”

  “Noted.”

  She reached to ruffle my hair, which was cute until her hand grazed one of my ribs and I flinched hard.

  “Ow! Ribs, ribs, Alex—!”

  “Shit! Sorry, sorry!” She backed off like I was radioactive. “I thought that one was healed!”

  “I told you I’m fragile. Like antique Tupperware.”

  Alex laughed through her nose and got up. “I’ll let you rest before I commit any more accidental war crimes. G’night, El.”

  She closed the basement door behind her with a soft click.

  ---

  I drifted in and out of sleep for a while. Half-lucid dreams. Vague shapes and laughter. I think I had a conversation with my eighth-grade math teacher, who was also a vending machine.

  Then something warm touched my hand.

  “Hey…”

  It wasn’t Alex.

  I blinked groggily, vision adjusting to low light and soft breathing.

  Jules sat beside me now, her hand barely brushing mine.

  She looked nervous. Her hair was messier than usual, like she’d been pacing before this. Her voice was soft, scared even.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  My brain, still rebooting from dreamland, lagged a few seconds behind.

  “For the rib? That was Alex—”

  “No. For everything.”

  She looked at me like I was something delicate. Like I might crack just from eye contact.

  “I was scared,” she continued. “Back then. With the bandits. With you. I kept thinking I could protect everyone by keeping my distance. By doing what they said. But every time I betrayed someone, it felt like losing pieces of myself. Until you.”

  My throat was dry. I didn’t know what to say.

  She kept going.

  “You were the first person I wanted to stay for. To fight for. And when I lost that, I realized how badly I’d messed up.”

  I reached up slowly—everything hurt—but I brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.

  “Jules…”

  She leaned down, her forehead gently touching mine.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  There it was.

  Soft. Heavy. Real.

  I felt it in my chest, like a string being tugged. Something I'd tried to bury under sarcasm and distractions. Something I wasn’t ready to admit back in the mall. Or when she first stitched me up.

  “I…” I started, but it came out like a croak.

  She chuckled. “You’re resting. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything stupid.”

  I tried again. “I missed you.”

  That, at least, was true.

  Her nose brushed mine. We were close now. Too close.

  It wasn’t like before. This wasn’t stolen moments during a scav run or teasing each other while watching Alex dive into chaos. This was raw. Honest.

  She kissed me—slow, gentle, like asking a question.

  I didn’t stop her.

  Didn’t deepen it either.

  Just… let it happen.

  My body ached, my brain fogged, and still I felt her. Warm. Trembling. Real.

  We stayed like that for a few seconds. Minutes. I don’t know.

  Then she pulled back, eyes glassy. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I just… needed to say it. Before I lost the chance again.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Thanks for not waiting until I was bleeding out again.”

  She smiled, small and sad. “I should let you rest.”

  “Yeah. Or Alex might stake you with a pool cue.”

  She laughed and got up. “Sleep, Elliot.”

  As she walked away, I felt lighter.

  Like maybe, just maybe, the worst was behind us.

  Maybe.