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WHAT ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO SAY?
It's a question that's spiralled in Rory's head about a million times since they'd come out into the clear from Ghostface's wrath this time.
Well, all except one.
And that's the current problem.
Because what the fuck is she supposed to say to Mindy between the morning chill and dying screams echoed between the heavy silence and mutters of medical professionals? Hey, how are you doing? I'm so sorry that you just watched your girlfriend plummet to her grisly, bloody death. Don't you feel stupid about that 'never trust the love interest' thing now? Anyway, what are our boundaries right now? Because I realised that I'm still in love with you because of seeing you with said girlfriend. And said girlfriend is now gone because of asshole Ghostface. So what now?
Yeah, Rory is fucking awful at this. But she can't hold herself back for much longer. Selfishly, she aches to hold Mindy in her arms as tangible proof that she's alive, breathing, and okay as she can be after crawling across that ladder. Her shoulders are already stiff from hugging Sam and Ellie. Her hands haven't stopped trembling, knuckles bruised like violets. They're morbidly decorated from banging desperation against doors she's never been strong enough to break through. She's seen this film before. It never ends well. There's that very real fear that it could've been Mindy, dead on the floor. Rory's glad it's not. She feels awful in every way for thanking whatever God might exist. Because Mindy's the closest she's ever gotten to believing in any higher power. She can't imagine a world with her gone.
Her heart aches and skips and sighs at the sight of Mindy staring at nothing. Chad has stepped away for the first time since they reunited. If Rory's gonna go in, it has to be now.
She flinches under a sudden touch on her shoulder, turning to see Sam with an apologetic gaze. Her eyes soften, and Rory finds her jaw clenching under the older girl's nod of reassurance. Dammit, this bitch knows. Sam always notices. Was Rory really looking at her that obviously? Ew. The blonde resists the urge to roll her eyes, which is easier under the emotional exhaustion. Footsteps begin to carry her away from Sam. She's walking toward Mindy and there's no other option except to go in.
Selfishly, Rory's lungs constrict with the urge to know if Mindy does still need her after all this. It's not even charmingly selfish, her girlfriend just died, for fuck's sake.
An exhale alerts Mindy from her dissociation, and Rory's brow creases immediately with an apologetic downturn. "Honey, I'm sorry..."
The pet name is already out before she can catch it. Suddenly hyper-aware of the burning tension between them, Rory has to shut her eyes for a moment and remember the screams she heard from the other side of the door. In that second or so, she's caught off-guard by the weight pressed against her.
Mindy's hugging her.
It's hard to hold back her gasp, but lucky that it can be excused by all of their shot nerves after the horror scene they'd just endured. Slowly, Rory accepts the contact and allows her arms to engulf the girl. She doesn't like how broken she seems. The aching wish she has to reverse time and save Anika herself proves every fucking thing about still being in love with Mindy. Because she was so fucking willing to watch her be happy with Anika again if it would bring back the mischief in her eye, the admirable nerve to put her feet up on Rory's car dash, the endlessly annoying rambles about movies and tropes and whatever else.
But you never know what you've got until it's gone.
She was incriminating herself over and over again, her own heart betraying her in its thumping as Mindy lays her head against Rory's chest like it's home to her. It's not. Rory scolds herself for entertaining this. Fighting a battle against her own heart to provide whatever Mindy needs from her. No strings and no attachment, just like how Rory ruined all this in the first place. Is she just another one of Mindy's problems? That spiral can wait, too.
The rasp in Rory's voice is tentative in cutting through their silent embrace. "What do you need from me right now, honey?"
"Stay." Mindy's answer is quick, arms tightening around Rory's middle the second that her hoarse voice communicates the vulnerable truth. Stay. That's the one thing Rory was never able to do. She knows she's not that strong.
She has to be, this time. The way Mindy shakes while she continues to beg proves that. Could it be easy this once? "Stay. Don't... leave me. I can't lose you, too. I can't."
"Shhh, you're not going to. You're not, I'm here," Rory whispers, lowering her voice as her lips twitch with the urge to plant a kiss on Mindy's head like she never burned them down. She could ruin it over and over again, the fool for Mindy Meeks-Martin that she truly is. The girl has Rory Hicks wrapped around her finger, prepared to be anything she needs at a mere exhale. "I've got you, baby."
Mindy falls silent again, and Rory tilts her head until her cheek comes to rest atop the other's head. It's stunningly, hauntingly reminiscent of the silent midnights they spent in each other's arms in hotel rooms. Between chaos and demons, silence and screaming, there's always gonna be need between them.
"Whatever you need. 'S not your fault, baby." Rory knows her words won't bring anything except denial and guilt, so she leaves no space for Mindy to contend. Let her fucking back break if it'll offer the chance of life coming back to the brown eyes that had become her secret muse.
"Fuck this franchise."
Mindy's head quirks at the uncharacteristically categorised comment from Rory. There's no regret or eye-roll from the blonde. Only a quiet, relieved sigh when Mindy's lips twitch, close to breaking into a smile.
"You called it a franchise."
Rory's lips press together, but she can hardly find the energy to feign her annoyance. "I am already regretting it. I need you to say it with me, baby, c'mon. Fuck-"
"-this franchise." Their unison dissipates into weak chuckles like the fadeout melodies of the songs Rory has written. The moment only lasts for a short time, but Rory feels Mindy's shoulders droop from their tensity. It's a fleeting freedom from the heaviness that settles back into their weary bones when Mindy's head falls to rest against Rory's chest once again. Despite everything, there's still not an ounce of casual in the way they cling to each other now. This war wasn't fair, but there was no room for Rory's confusion over comforting Mindy. There was nothing to be confused about, in the end. Being the down bad bitch that she is, she knew she was in so deep. In the wake of this unfair war and tragedy of bloodshed, Mindy and Rory were both holding on.
"I've got you, honey." It was a reiterated promise much more subtle than the I love you caught between shallow breaths. It was ruining Rory's life. But Mindy's love was in a bodybag that Rory had consciously blocked from the girl's view with her own frame.
Loss and love both linger. And she had no choice but to let it.
