#even though abby wasn't spared by joel the extension of living to ellie was supposed to help her sleep

[dissonantdreamer]

“We let you both live...”

Abby lowers the gun in her hand. For all that she went through, all the pain of losing her father that killing Joel didn’t mitigate. The anguish of waking up and knowing that the blood on her hands didn’t cancel out her father’s drying blood on the hospital floor. To walk away from Jackson to go back to the same life as before, this time with the weight of the heinous act she committed added on to the weight of grief and loss. Lev and Yara, they lightened the load. Brought her direction after years of focusing every waking moment honing her mind and body to complete an ultimately fruitless goal that she lost not only herself in but her friends and loved ones too. What she wouldn’t give for a chance to walk away the second she found out Joel’s name. To keep her burden to herself. Yet here these two are, they came here from Jackson and killed everyone she has ever cared about. After she spared them? Spared them from the torment she suffered and her they went and sought it out themselves. Abby levels the gun at this ungrateful woman before her.

“... And you wasted it.” 

The girl runs and remorse leaves Abby with the pull of the trigger as her bullet pierces Tommy’s skull. He took more from her than Joel ever did and this girl, she helped him, why else would she be here hundreds of miles from Jackson threatening her all throughout their twisted, deadly game of hide and seek.

Blood is shed, and it coats more than just her skin and clothes. Finally after getting the upper hand, Abby heaves the unconscious body of the pregnant girl who rushed her to protect her stupid friend, who sliced open Abby’s arms and cheek open, to face her limp body towards this girl, this Ellie. Bleeding... begging and pleading, on the ground front of her.

This girl’s mouth moves but she hears none of it, not with the rush of her own blood crashing in her ears like waves against the shore drowning out everything but the droning rage in her limbs.  Abby stares as her blood and blood of any of her friends’ Ellie helped Tommy kill stains her blue shirt. After all this girl said she’d fucking kill Abby, screamed the words at her as she brought down the 9 iron one final time. What she mistook for anguish had clearly become a promise.

Abby knows this blood between them will seep into this girl’s soul, where it will weigh her down. Late at night if, she’s exhausted herself enough to fall asleep, this endless cycle of guilt and hatred, will wake her up. Lingering on the razors edge that separates her dreams from reality; and it will haunt her every waking moment in between. Abby recognizes the anger, watches it ebb away to fear, to helplessness.  The same  despondent stare she saw in her own reflection when she washed Joel’s blood off her face, before smashing the mirror in the chalet bathroom.

It’s Abby’s survival instinct that disarmed and subdued this girl in her arms. It’s Abby’s own grief, built up, into a thin armor, a second skin, over the hours, the days, the months, the years, that revels at the thought of an eye for an eye. It’s her own rage, molten in her veins, that picked up the discarded knife, and sets to dig it into this unconscious girls throat, draw blood.  A final payment for their transgressions.

How foolish, Abby thinks, to make the same mistakes. You followed my path and now we both suffer for your arrogance. She clenches her jaw, it’s good, they won’t have to suffer much longer.

Lev calls her name and saves her from becoming this husk again. He keeps Abby from twisting her own arm until it pops out its socket and hangs limply at her side. From crippling herself until she’s once again flitting around aimlessly, a bird with a clipped wing.

She stands. Sparing this broken shell of a person one last glance.

“Don’t ever let me see you again.”

Abby walks past Lev and up the stairs. His quiet footsteps follow her out.

Back through the theater.

Past the dead.

She turns to Lev, he's still with her.

They push out into the storm.

The rain cleanses her wounds, washes her clean.

And she’s gone.