Archive of Our Own

The last thing she remembered was the tearing agony in her stomach. No, that wasn’t quite right. She remembered the fire. Lying on the roof, unable to move because she’d lost far too much blood already, surrounded by ashes and smoke. The pain was still there, though.

It had numbed when the blackness she’d fallen into receded, but not entirely. A touch moving up and down her cheek distracted her from the soreness in her stomach, and a shushing voice drowned out the lingering memories of the gunshot.

She remembered kissing him.

“They’ve almost got the tents set up,” someone said. “We can move her to there until we’ve got a medical shack or something like that. Just make sure the wound stays clean.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she heard Thomas’s hum. They’d spoken the last time they saw each other, but he hadn’t hummed. Not as a response, and certainly not in a tune, but as the footsteps belonging to the stranger’s voice left, Thomas’s hum came closer.

She broke through whatever force had kept her under. She held on to the sight of his eyes as the rest of the world came into focus around them.

“Hey.” Thomas smiled and cupped her cheek as the corners of his mouth tilted into a grin. “We have to stop meeting like this.”

Teresa tilted her head to see him fully. Exhaustion kept her from speaking, so she settled for a smile to reciprocate his. She lay in his lap, though he gently lifted her higher so she rested with her side against his chest.

“We made it.” A kiss settles on her skin just above her temple. “And you’re gonna be all right.”

Her stomach hurts when she moves, and it tears a sob out of her as every memory comes flooding back. They pool under her bandages, itch, burn, and for a moment, it’s as if she’ll never be able to think about anything else as her body wakes up along with the rest of her, to scars and injury.

“Hey, hey, c’mere.” Thomas’s voice is soothing, clear yet cracking the slightest bit, fresh against the uncomfortable heat under her skin. He guides her head to his shoulder and rests his cheek on top as he holds her, takes her hand to keep it from plucking at the bandage. He squeezes her hands together in one of his and brings them to her chest as he distracts her senses by grazing her shoulders with a light, careful touch.

“You’re all right now. Everything is going to be okay.”