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19 working for the knife
Mercy is still sleeping when Gansey takes the Pig to pick Dr. Malory up from the airport. He took one look at the purple smudges underneath her eyes and her hands curling into the sheets before stepping out the room and closing the door to Monmouth behind him. But the redhead is none-the-wiser, surrounded by grass and trees, wretched greenery. She rests on the cliffside looking down upon where her mother once sat and lets her feet hang dangerously over the edge. Warm air brushes against the redness of her cheeks, and Mercy tips her chin to the sky to feel the sun. Sand doesn't crunch behind her, but she can feel Berlin's presence shift closer as they appear behind her. Her eyes fall closed, she's accepted her fate.
When their grey-pale hand reaches out, Mercy expects it to wrap around the skin of her neck, but instead it hangs, waiting for her to take it. She opens her eyes and takes their hand. They pull her up, sand crunching beneath her boots. Lead towards the open beach, Mercy recognises where Circe King kneeled in the shells and sand with an erratic disposition. Her heart pangs but she continues. A multicoloured pile of pills have been left behind in her death.
"I see," Mercy says with her eyes closed, nodding slowly.
Something faintly familiar is pressed into her palm.
"You're the last one." Berlin's breath tickles her ear, leaning close. "You are your own only hope."
Mercy peels open her eyes, pressing her fingers into the sand and watching it pool in the palm of her empty hand. A white pill bottle occupies her other hand. She pops open the cap and it's empty. Berlin's eyes flicker between the pills and the empty bottle as Mercy presses a finger to her nose. It's wet, black ichor inking the tips of her fingers. Delicately, she pulls her hand away and wipes it on the sand. The substance clings to her skin and Mercy's nose furrows. She's an echo of her mother: knelt on the beach with a myriad of pills before her. The same red hair, freely curling around the tops of her shoulders. The same emerald eyes, keenly focused on the multiple colours and the bottle in her hand. Mercy's head snaps to the side as a seagull calls the wind.
