Survival Of The Fittest

Why am I still alive?

It was something that she kept asking herself, and it was something that she didn't have an answer for. Why was she still alive when Vic was dead? Why had she been allowed to come home? Why had she come home at all? The small part of her that was still rational knew the answers, but every time the thought crossed her mind it beaten out by the part overwhelmed with grief. Ever since returning from that damned island, the question was never far from her thoughts.

That, and the question of why should I still be alive?

She asked herself that almost as often. The decision that her even making it off the island was some sort of mistake, let alone being allowed to return to the home she'd shared with Vic. Not only was she a murderer--

There she was, looking away as Ash fell, stumbled, to her death. The girls short surprised cry as her world flipped upside down. Alice, thinking of a dry twig snapping. Alice had killed her and she was too much of a coward to even watch. But she was protecting Bounce, protecting herself, so it was okay. Right?

--she was a murderer, not only of Ash, but of Vic. Because she'd let Vic run off on her own. Rash, impetuous Vic. She ran right into Raidon, who presumably killed her because Alice had shot him only the day before. That was another reason it was her fault. If she hadn't been so obstinate, hadn't started a fight. Maybe if she had killed him when she had the chance, then Vic would never have been killed.

It was all her fault that Ash was dead. It was all her fault that the person she cared about most was dead.

She should never have left the island. Should never have survived. It was a mistake. One that she considered rectifying more than once. She wasn't strong, not strong enough to make it on her own. She was weak, insecure, stupid. Why shouldn't she do what she kept thinking about doing? Slit her wrists, perhaps hang herself, or sit in her car with the engine running. An ending to things. Vic was gone and it was her fault. Consumed by guilt and self-loathing, suicide seemed like the best solution to everything that plagued her.

But she wouldn't kill herself. Maybe out of fear, or cowardice, or even the nagging thought that Bounce was still there for her. No, she would do the same thing she'd been doing for the last week and a half. That included, but wasn't limited to, crying on the couch, crying in the bedroom, or even crying on the floor. She didn't sleep very much, and when she did eventually nod off, she was tormented by nightmares. She ate even less. The apartment, constantly darkened by a lack of any real light sources, was rapidly growing more and more covered by dust from disuse and lack of anything resembling cleaning. Alice herself looked as if she was struck by some wasting disease. Skinnier than ever, heavy bags under her eyes, disheveled and unkempt hair, all matched with a deathly pallor, gave her a corpse-like appearance. If she was too much of a coward to actively kill herself, it seemed that she was taking the slower and more drawn out route of wasting away instead.

People visited occasionally. The media, eager to interview anyone from Survival of the Fittest. Her grandparents, worried about her safety. Bounce, worried about much the same. Alice never made much of an effort to meet them. Her grandparents, occasionally, and that was only because they had a key to get in. Anyone else, Alice simply waited until they left.

Which was where Alice found herself as someone rapped on the door, several tight and close together knocks. She could hear Bounce calling her name, sounding as worried as she always did when Alice didn't answer the door. For whatever reason, this time Alice struggled to her feet and stumbled through the darkened apartment to open the door.

Bounce shouldn't have made it out of the game. Everything she knew about the game, all past track records, all the hours of watching and reading and rewatching, told her that somebody like her should have been an 'easy out'.

An easy out.

How many times had Bounce seen those words? How many times had she typed them herself in debates and discussions on the SOTF fansites? Few friends often made for an 'easy out'. Unathletic, or a poor draw, lacking size. That was an 'easy out'. Lacking the ruthless streak needed to take the opportunities to thin the field. 'Easy out'.

And that was her, that was Bounce every day of the week. If she hadn't fluked out and ran into Vic, leading to them fluking out and running into Alice, then she wouldn't have had a hope - and considering what went down with Victoria, had those boats not come along, there was only so much longer that going under the radar would have worked. They would have run into something - someone, and an injured and unarmed Alice wouldn't have been enough to keep them at bay. And that would have been that. Another pair for the highlight reel - or more likely a forgettable, typo-ridden summary on the SOTF wiki and a slew of comments about how boring she was and how that if they were on SOTF, they would've blown people up with gasoline, or used their expert knowledge to play people against each other or a million and one other things.

Then they'd have been easy outs too.

--

Bounce had felt guilty at the hospital, being waited on, being treated with the utmost of care even amongst all the others. She knew - rationally - that she wasn't getting any more attention than anybody else, that in fact she was most likely getting seen the least, but that didn't stop her from wanting to tell the doctors to tend to the others. The people that needed it.

All Bounce had was a few cuts and scrapes, minor things. Whilst she'd collapsed from exhaustion at one point, she wasn't in any immediate danger - it was nothing that a few day's rest wouldn't fix. Their concern aggravated her. Yeah she was skinny, yeah she'd lost weight on the island - but who hadn't?, she didn't have some kind of eating disorder or whatever syndromes and conditions they kept on trying to suggest she'd developed. But no, they kept on fussing, kept on hovering over her to make sure she was eating all her meals.

Stupid stupid... just because after so long of frugal meals of stale (and in one case, mouldy) bread, eating REAL food had made her throw up, all of a sudden she was bulimic. Freaking awesome. Not being able to keep her food down didn't mean that she was doing it on purpose, but that hadn't mattered to the doctors and nurses. Constant supervision! Encouraging, coaxing therapists who took her telling them that there was no problem as her being in denial of said 'problem'.

It took her longer to get clear than some of the people that were legitimately hurt. Bounce was still tipping the scales at only 90 lbs or so, but once she'd grown used to actually eating again, she'd managed to start preventing herself from heaving. It was hard at times, like her body was doing it just to spite her, to make her protestations that it wasn't deliberate ring hollow. Eventually though, she'd managed it, and having seen her wolf down an entire pizza with something akin to disbelief, one of the doctors had finally pronounced her free to leave.

--

Returning home didn't feel real. People stopped to look at her in the street. Others called out - encouragement, questions, sometimes even abuse. Reporters ran up to her with microphones in their hands and cameramen trailing after them, demanding to know 'her story'. Bounce blanked all of these, the last with 'encouragement' from the escort that an uncle she barely knew had helpfully 'provided' for her. Dmitri was supposedly a cousin of hers, but Bounce had never met him before in her life. He was a big bear of a man, although he was only a year Bounce's senior. He was kind enough to her, but almost too much so - he treated her like she was made of porcelain, set to shatter to pieces at any moment. Besides, sometimes, Bounce just REALLY needed some time to herself...

But with Dmitri staying in the guest bedroom at her home to attend to her near every time she left the house, that wasn't coming any time soon. Even what had once been her sole refuge - the computer - now held no solace. Opening the internet, only to find every last tab she'd been using still saved - the SOTF homepage, a forum discussion on weapon draws (now long dead), an unrelated music video - Bounce had burst into tears. The computer lay untouched since then, gathering dust. Maybe sometime in the future she would find the strength to write AGAINST what was once her favourite show, instead of simply discussing it dispassionately, but... not now. It was too raw.

Her parents handled her awkwardly. They were overjoyed that she had lived, but at the same time, they were no closer to her. In fact, if anything Bounce had drawn even further away from her family. They held little affection from her any longer, and even though they had never been particularly attached, Bounce could not explain why. There was an invisible barrier between them, between everything that had not gone through the same experiences that Bounce had, and even then, making it through the island had not made Bounce more sociable. She had no idea how to contact anybody who had lived, how to speak to them, share the comfort of mutual suffering.

Well, save one...

--

It grew worse and worse every time. Sometimes, Alice just plain ignored Bounce. Sometimes, she came to the door, but their conversation was apathetic at best. Her friend was tearing herself to pieces, and she didn't know how to help her. Words never came easily to Bounce - not kind ones, anyway. She was no therapist.

And frankly? She wasn't Vic, either. It didn't matter what the other girl had done, that she'd ran out on them. Alice had still loved her, and she blamed herself for what had happened. Nothing Bounce could do or say was going to change that. Perhaps she would overcome the guilt by herself in time... but that was rapidly becoming time that Alice didn't have.

She was killing herself.

Bounce had given Dmitri the slip this time around. Friendly though he was, he wasn't too hard to fool, and Bounce had simply asked him to run an errand for her before sneaking out the front door and driving all the way to Alice's place. She'd be missed before too long, but that didn't matter - she had left a message, lest her parents combust with worry.

Standing on the doorstep, Bounce shifted anxiously from foot to foot. She'd been dressing brighter since making it home. Dark colours were a reminder. Plus, almost every SOTF shirt was dark, and there was no way in hell she'd wear any of those ever again. She looked a little different all over, she supposed. She wore her hair longer now, she actually bothered with make-up. Bounce still hadn't grown a sense of fashion, but the alterations... they were almost ways of disassociating herself from-

The door opened.

"...Alice, you need to stop doing this to yourself. I am absolutely serious. Right now."

Alice started blankly at her one remaining friend, her expression blank. She wanted to snap, something caustic or biting. It was a hell of a greeting, and she wasn't sure she deserved it. Who had Bounce lost? Who would she never see again? Alice was her only friend, the only one she had. Bounce hadn't lost anyone. Alice had lost nearly everything. Nearly everyone that mattered to her. The one who mattered most. Who was Bounce to be giving her orders, demanding that she get over her grief and move on. It was inexcusable. After all, who else did Bounce have? Alice was her only friend.

But, Alice caught herself before she said anything. Bounce didn't deserve that, any of that. It was true, Alice was her only friend. That meant that Bounce had to look out for her. She was just being a good friend. The only friend Alice had left.

It was her own fault, like everything else that had happened in the last few months. Her mood swings had been erratic since retuning home. Ranging from suicidal depression to irrational anger. Bounce was just caught up in the storm. Or she would have been, if Alice didn't hold her tongue. Like she said, Bounce was all she had left. Vic was gone, she wouldn't lose Bounce.

The expression on her face softened and she stood aside, letting Bounce inside. "Sorry," She mumbled, her voice a dry croak from disuse. The door closed, perhaps harder than she'd have liked, before she followed Bounce to the couch, taking up her seat on the far right end. Absently, she took a picture of Vic from the side table and cradled it carefully in her lap.

This was really the first time that the two of them had interacted since returning. Alice was busy wasting away and wishing for death, Bounce was...doing something else. Undergoing a makeover from the looks of things. Brighter clothes and make-up, at the least. Maybe she was humoring the throngs of people interested in the Bayview survivors. It was a different tack than the one Alice was taking. Tank top and jeans that hadn't been changed in days summarized the outfit nicely. The change suited Bounce. The change suited Alice.

The two of them sat in an awkward silence, perpetuated by Alice not having a clue of what to say. Bounce wanted Alice to move on, rouse herself from this stupor that she was in. Alice couldn't see herself doing that. That would require strength that she didn't have. This was her way of punishing herself, for everything that she'd done wrong. To do anything but would be like she shirked the guilt that was rightly hers. For Ash, for Vic, for everything. If she died, wasted away, it would be her penance. It would be right.

Alice started at the root of the problem.

"I let Vic down. Should have gone after her. Should have been there for her. Should have saved her."

Tears stung her eyes, and she ducked her head so that Bounce wouldn't see. Guilt and shame, mixed with searing regret that she wasn't quite good enough. She had promised Vic that she would protect her or die trying, and now Alice was the one sitting at home while Vic rotted on some Goddamn island halfway across the world. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right, and it tore Alice up inside. Her voice dropped to a whisper, hoarse and scratchy.

"Should have died with her."

That Bounce was at least trying to save Alice was touching and appreciated. Misguided, but touching. Factoring into account that Alice didn't deserve to be saved, didn't want to be saved, Bounce was wasting her time. Alice was scarred, emotionally and physically, and a pep talk wouldn't change that.

It was funny. She barely noticed the gunshot any more. It had healed, mostly, but she still felt pains some of the time. Not often enough. It was just another reminder now, as if the pictures and belongings around the room weren't enough. Looking around the apartment, Alice didn't even know when it stopped being a home and started being a mausoleum. Aside from the picture of Vic that never seemed far from hand, nothing had been touched. Alice wanted nothing more then to leave the apartment exactly as it had been left when two people still lived inside.

Alice risked a short glance up at the woman sitting next to her on the couch, then quickly turned her eyes back to the picture on her lap.

"Wasting your time, Bounce. Sorry."

Stepping past a nonplussed Alice, Bounce walked into the apartment proper. Her heart immediately dropped. The place looked abandoned, not like somebody was actually living there, like Alice was some kind of pining ghost. Which, by the looks of her this time, seemed like it wasn't too far from the truth. Bounce felt a pang. She couldn't let this keep happening, she should never have let it get to this point. Should've camped out on Alice's doorstep until she let her in, dragged her out of the house completely if she'd had to. There were too many memories in this place for the other girl, and being around them constantly wasn't going to help. Especially because it seemed like Alice was trying to make the apartment some kind of damn museum for the dead.

Bounce sat on Alice's couch with folded arms and did her best not to launch into a tirade. Firmness was one thing, but the last thing her friend needed right now was to be bitched at. Selfish, Bounce wanted to call her, having no consideration for the problems of others and the concerns of those that cared about her. Yet... on Bounce's part, would that not too simply be selfish? Bounce had lost a couple of friends on the island, but the person to which she had the closest relationship was alive and well. Bounce's losses were nothing compared to Alice's, and much as she hated to admit it, Bounce knew that Alice's grief for Vic outweighed her affection for Bounce.

Could she really blame the other girl for that? Vic had been witty, streetwise, beautiful... Bounce wasn't any of those things. She wasn't pretty, she barely had a figure to speak of, she was awkward around other people and having an acid tongue was not exactly an endearing trait. Bounce couldn't match up to that. However, as Alice continued to speak, Bounce felt rage bubbling up inside of her. This wasn't right. There was no possible way that a person like Alice should have had to die for Victoria, because for all her positive traits, Alice's girlfriend had abandoned them when it mattered most. If they'd all stuck together, then they would have all made it out - simple as that. Bounce appreciated that Victoria had accompanied her early on in the game, but she now realised that when the other girl had thought there was any danger... she'd hidden. Behind Bounce, who was hardly intimidating.

Vic was a coward. She didn't deserve Alice pining like this.

Bounce rose from the couch, marched over the window and ripped the curtains open, wincing as light flooded into the dim confines of the apartment. The illumination put into even starker relief the awful state of Alice's home. Bounce wheeled.

"This is ridiculous. Come on Alice, please just look around you. This doesn't look like an apartment, it looks like a drugs den. You're better than this... you made it. You can't let that place beat you, not now you're home. Please..."

A slightly desperate edge came into Bounce's voice at that last. If anything were to happen to Alice, then where would that leave her? Friendless. Isolated. Guilt-ridden. She couldn't let this continue. There had to be some way of snapping her out of it.

Alice sat quietly after she was done speaking, hunched inward, almost afraid of what Bounce would say. Why couldn't she just accept that this was how it had to be?

There was no legal reprisal for what she'd done, no one waiting to exact justice upon her return. Not even an angry parent hammering at her door. No one else was going to punish her, so it was something she had to do herself. It was only what she deserved. She had let one person die, personally killed another. People don't forget, nothing is forgiven. And this was something that Alice couldn't possibly forgive herself for, no matter how much Bounce wanted otherwise. Bounce was only wasting her time. Alice wished that she understood that. It would be better for everyone if she did.

Bounce looked angry. Once glace up at her made that plain to see. Brow furrowed, lips pursed. She looked like she desperately wanted to throw something in, but was holding her tongue. Only by great force of will, obviously. Knowing Bounce, whatever she wanted to say was either biting, scathing, vitriolic, or some combination of the above. Bounce, expressing her disappointment and anger with Alice. But she wouldn't say anything, because Alice was her friend, or because she was already suffering, or maybe she was just done starting arguments.

What could she say that Alice hadn't already said about herself?

Sunlight flooded the room as Bounce finally started to speak. Alice's eyes drifted to the picture in her hands, trying not to listen to what Bounce said. In it, Vic was smiling, happy, alive. Taken a few months before, back before her life was ruined. Vic had brought her out on the town, and they'd ended up at an ice skating rink. Vic, smiling and laughing, easing her along, had led her around the rink, coaxing and guiding her. Her flushed cheeks, her easy smile, the good humor that never left her eyes the whole night. Alice had insisted on taking the picture, much to Victoria's amusement. Vic, leaning against the railing, a broad smile on her face. They had gone home, curled up on the couch with some blankets, falling asleep together watching some mushy romance movie Vic suggested. A perfect night.

Now this picture and the others like it were all that was left of Vic. Around them were echoes of happier times, when Alice had a future and someone to share it with. When the apartment, now darkened and funereal, was full of life and laughter, full of happiness. Now Alice was alone, just like she'd been when her parents had died. Because she hadn't been able to protect the woman she loved. She was alone.

But she wasn't, was she? Bounce was by her side, trying to save her. Her persistence was proof enough that she wasn't alone. Vic was gone, but Alice still had someone to watch over her. Bounce was still there for her. But the things she was saying were all wrong. Alice wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough to beat this. If she was strong enough, if she was good enough, Vic would still be alive. But Vic was dead, because Alice would never be good enough.

She hugged the picture to her chest, holding the frame tight enough that her hands trembled.

"Wrong, Bounce. Wrong. Just...just leave me alone. 'M not better then this. Not worth it."

Alice looked back blankly, despondent, uninterested in anything Bounce had to tell her. Still holding that damn photo close to her. Victoria, Victoria, always Victoria. She wanted badly to lash out at that moment, tear the other girl down and remind Alice of what she had done - but Bounce once again resisted with a willpower and tact that she would not have possessed before the island. Alice knew the score already and she didn't care. She'd loved Vic, that meant logic was kicked to the curb.

Something broke, and Bounce let out a little sob.

She couldn't handle this. She couldn't deal with Alice in such a state. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was never going to be easy, coming home, but after the massive good fortune of actually being busted out of the island, things were supposed to pick up. Start bad, get better. Overcome. You weren't supposed to come home and keep suffering! That wasn't how these things worked! Bounce slammed two diminutive fists onto the arm of Alice's couch, the impact jarring her all the way to her shoulders.

If it weren't for this girl, then Bounce would be dead, one way or another. She'd have been lucky to even have lasted long enough to hear the signal from the boats, and even had she been alive, she would have been too exhausted to get there by herself. Bounce had been on her last legs at that stage. Alice had practically had to drag her. All but carried her in places. This wasn't just about concern and compassion, it was about Bounce's own needs and emotions. There was nothing for her in Bayview, nothing but Alice. She couldn't make it home by herself. She couldn't handle home by herself.

Bright tears were sparkling as Bounce looked up to meet Alice's eyes.

"Alice I need you. I need you to be okay. You're worth it, you're worth it to me."

She didn't know exactly what she was doing until it was already done.

Bounce climbed onto the couch, perched in Alice's lap... then leaned in and pressed her lips to those of the other girl.

Alice wasn't naive, wasn't delusional. She knew that Vic had abandoned the group when they were all together on the island. That she'd abandoned Alice. Ran off, leaving Alice and Bounce to fend for themselves, taking the gun with her. When it had come down to it, Vic worried more about herself than Alice. Looked out for number one, as it were. Alice had promised her the world, that she would keep Vic safe or die trying. In the end, Vic must not have believed her. Maybe it was because Alice had been shot, maybe Vic didn't care about Alice as much as she had thought. Whatever the reason, Vic hadn't trusted her, and it cost Vic her life. Alice couldn't have done anything to change that, once Vic had made her decision.

Alice knew that, but it did nothing to assuage her guilt. She should have looked for her, should have tried to find. She should have done something, should have at least tried. Instead, she just accepted that Vic was gone, hadn't done anything to find her. Maybe that cost Vic her life. Maybe.

Next to her, Bounce started to cry. Alice felt a pang of guilt, completely unrelated to anything she'd been feeling before. Was she being selfish? Wasn't she allowed to grieve how she wanted? If she wanted to tear herself apart, wasn't that her decision? She had lost the love of her life, wasn't she entitled to this? But Bounce, seeing her like this made her have second thoughts. Ever since coming home to this empty apartment, her first thought had been that she was going to be alone from now on. Bounce would move on, once she saw that Alice wasn't worth saving.

"Alice I need you. I need you to be okay. You're worth it, you're worth it to me."

But Bounce was still here, and she wasn't giving up. If Alice was thinking straight, it wouldn't have come as a surprise. Best friends. Bounce had been true to her from the start. On the island, since coming back. Obstinate, unyielding, refusing to give up on Alice. Even if that was exactly what Alice wanted. Maybe she was being selfish. If Bounce wasn't going to give up on her, maybe Alice could at least try to pull herself together. For Bounce.

She'd never thought about Bounce, how coming back to civilization would affect her. Alice had to look at it from her point of view. Bounce had lost people too. Maybe not someone of the same level of importance as Vic had to Alice, but she'd lost people. Friends. Each one dearly lost. And the one person she had left, her best and now only friend, was killing herself. It would be enough to drive any shell-shocked teenager to tears. Alice was callous, unthinking, to have never considered Bounce before.

Wincing, Alice tried to look away from Bounce. Not because her eyes were accusing, but because they weren't. Her friend was moving towards her, crawling across the couch. Alice wanted to apologize, for everything, just to say something other then reminding Bounce that she didn't want to be saved. Then Bounce was kissing her, climbing onto her lap and kissing her. Alice didn't know what to do. Part of her was happy for the contact, the acceptance. Part of her reeled, the scars of Vic's passing too fresh to even consider someone else.

Above all else, it confirmed what she should have already known:That Bounce still cared about her, and nothing would change that.

For a few tender moments, Alice returned the kiss. Her arms wrapped around Bounce, holding her close. For those few moments, she didn't think of Vic, or Ash, or anything but Bounce. Then she pushed Bounce away, gently but firmly. On her face was a smile, weak, hesitant, and trembling, but a smile all the same. If Bounce wouldn't give up on her, and Alice firmly believed that she wouldn't, she could at least put up an effort.

"Okay, Bounce. Okay. You win."

Alice's lips were warm. Alice's body was warm. Arms around her back, pulling her tightly...

Bounce had never been this close to somebody else in her whole life. She'd never dated, had never even experimented, not even been kissed until that day back... there. But this... this felt right. This felt safe. Comforting. Like they were two interlocking pieces of a puzzle, finally connected.

Strange emotions that Bounce couldn't place washed over her. Not for a moment did she fear that Alice would push her away. The surprise of her own actions faded swiftly into nothingness. Apprehension and concern vanished as if carried away on a soft breeze. Was this... did this... were all kisses like this one? Bounce was reeling even as Alice broke away - feeling an indescribable pang of loss as their lips were parted from one another.

Alice was smiling at her. Bounce hadn't seen Alice smile in...

Much too long.

She spoke, and Bounce hesitated.

The name. That name. Why was she still using it? She'd taken an insult and made it her own, once. But... it had become a moniker to use, more often than not, when she was online. Miss Bounce, that was the name. She'd used it in chat rooms, on forums... everywhere. That's what it meant now. It was a memento from before, and one that she... wasn't entirely sure she still wanted to carry with her. Miss Bounce was a moderator on three different SOTF boards, an avid editor of the official SOTF wiki, a caustic reviewer of SOTF fanfiction...

Yelizaveta Volkova was no longer any of those things.

"Alice..." she breathed into the other girl's ear. "Call me Lizzie. Elizabeth. Beth. Anything... just not that. Not anymore..."

Her hands trailed down Alice's sides, tucked behind her back. Embraced her closely.

She never wanted to let go.

Even as Bounce, Lizzie leaned away, Alice still felt conflicted, having second-thoughts. This almost felt like a betrayal to Vic. Even more so than on the island, where the kiss was the result of a combination of adrenaline and frayed nerves. Here, this...Did it make her unfeeling, insensitive? As much as she needed Bounce, Lizzie, as much as she needed Lizzie, Vic had only been gone for a month or two. And here she was, her arms wrapped around another woman. It made her look like she didn't care about Vic at all.

But wouldn't Vic want her to be happy? Maybe Vic was a coward, maybe she made the wrong decision. But she had loved Alice, of that she was certain. Eleven months together, happy and carefree. That meant something, and it wasn't something Alice would forget. But Alice had to move on eventually, and if it was on to someone that already cared deeply about her, perfect. Vic wouldn't want Alice to waste away over her death. She would want Alice to be happy, to find someone who needed her as much as Alice needed them.

And Yelizaveta Volkova needed her. To be strong, to be there for her. That was noble, wasn't it? Not callous or cold, but considerate. It was, it was the right thing to do, wasn't it? Alice had failed Vic, but now she had a second chance. This time, she could do better, would do better. She could make things right. This could be her chance at redeeming herself.

Lizzie cared about her. If anything was true, it was that. The fact that she was here at all was a testament to that. She had always been there for Alice, through thick and thin. It was time Alice repaid her. Besides, what Alice needed was someone who made her feel like things were going to okay, like she was okay. In Lizzie's arms, she felt safe, accepted, wanted, needed.

Before today, Alice had wished that she was dead. Now, she had something to hold onto. A reason to keep going.

In her hand was the picture of Vic, still smiling, a still-frame from seemed like a thousand years before. Alice looked at the picture for a long few seconds, wanting to cry, wanting to apologize, something. She still wished that Vic was by her side, but she knew that was never going to happen. But it wasn't as bad as she had thought, not by a long shot. She wasn't alone, and she wouldn't be while Lizzie was still around.

Slender arms pulled her close, bringing Alice back to reality. Alice took one last look at the picture before setting it on the end table.

Vic was gone. Lizzie wasn't. That was something she could accept, as painful as it was.

Alice leaned back before placing a hand on Lizzie's chin, guiding her eyes to Alice's. A whispered offer of thanks, a ghost of a smile that somehow managed to reach her eyes, and a tender, passionate kiss.

Alice had failed before. This time, she wouldn't let go.