ο½’ XXIX ; fault is mine ο½£

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TWENTY-NINE ; FAULT IS MINE

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Β  Β  Β "PROMISE MEΒ you'll see him this time."

Eleanor looks at her mother from the passenger seat of her car, pushing back her bleach blonde hair and giving Mary Ann a dramatic glare.Β 

Eleanor is fifteen, too young to have a license; Mary Ann has to drive her across town to Taron's house when they feel so inclined to hang out there. Taron has a license, but both of them find it counter-productive for him to drive all the way to the suburbs, pick her up, and drive her all the way back to his house. He usually just takes her back home.

"Don't give me that look," Mary Ann says.

Eleanor relaxes her face and unbuckles her seatbelt.

"I'm not going to see him," Eleanor declares.

"He'd be thrilled!"

"No, he wouldn't!"

"Eleanor." She stops opening the door to look at her mom. "I'll give you ten bucks if you at least say hi."

"You're bribing me to talk to my deadbeat father?" Eleanor questions with raised eyebrows, before grinning and saying, "Twenty bucks."

"Deal."

Eleanor extends her hand as Mary Ann retrieves her purse from the backseat, digs out her wallet, and hands a twenty dollar bill to Eleanor.

"Thank you," Eleanor says, examining it gleefully.

"Now, don't tell him I gave you that!"

"If he's even there, that is," Eleanor replies as she shoves the money in her pocket and pushes open the car door, grabbing her backpack from the floor.

"Tell Taron I said hello!"

"I will," she says, getting out of the car.

"I love you!"

Eleanor replies with a mumble, shutting the door. Mary Ann says goodbye before driving off, leaving Eleanor to stand in front of her father's house. She slings the strap of her backpack on her shoulder and sighs.

She hadn't spoken to her dad in weeks, and now she is walking up his steps.

Eleanor cringes as she knocks on the front door. However, the dread quickly passes, for no one answers. Eleanor knocks again after fifteen seconds or so just to make her twenty bucks worthwhile.

"Brilliant," she sighs, gazing at the peeling paint on the door. "Called it. Asshole."

Eleanor shakes her head, turning around and going down a step or two, embarrassed that she even tried. But before she could storm down the rest of the staircase, the door opens behind her and a groggy Ray says, "Eleanor? What, what are you doing here?"

She turns around to look at her dad. He appears as though he just woke up.

"'What are you doing here?' That's the first thing you thought of?" Eleanor questions.

"I just didn't know you were coming. Did your mother call?"

"No. I'm going to Taron's, but she paid me to come talk to you."

"She did, did she?"

Eleanor nods, crossing her arms.Β 

Ray looks tremendously awkward as he looks at her for a few seconds, looks around, then says, "Uh, does this count as talking?"

Eleanor blinks.

"It's just that, uh, I have to get to work."

"Oh," Eleanor says with a nod, going down a step. "Okay. Yeah."

Ray looks at her with slightly furrowed eyebrows, noticing the hint of disappointment on her face but unsure of what to do about it.

"Yeah," he starts, scratching his head. "But if you want to stop by next weekendΒ β€”Β "

"Not really," Eleanor says with a shake of her head as she turns around and walks down the steps.

"Hey, Eleanor! Don't be mad!"

"Not mad," Eleanor replies with a strained voice.

"You can't expect me just to drop everythingΒ β€”Β "

"I got it, Ray," Eleanor says, walking backward to face him once she reaches the bottom of the staircase. "Appointments only. Was that in the fine print when you became a father, or did you just make that up by yourself?"

"EleanorΒ β€” " Ray starts.

"No, it's cool. You gotta go to work. See you in a few more weeks, or whatever."

With that, Eleanor turns around and storms across the street, to Taron's house. Ray doesn't try to apologize; he closes the door after a few seconds, making Eleanor clench her jaw.

She jogs up the steps of Taron's house and knocks on the front door, her fingers drumming against her thigh and her lips tightly pressed together.

The door opens and Eleanor looks up to find Taron's mom, Tina, giving her a warm smile.

"Hello, Eleanor," Tina says in her distinct accent. Her smile fades when she sees the look on Eleanor's face. "What's wrong, hun?"

"Nothing. It's okay, I'm fine," Eleanor replies, forcing a smile.

"Well, come in, you can tell Taron all about it," Tina says, beckoning Eleanor inside. Eleanor gives Tina a thankful smile and Tina returns it with a knowing wink.

Taron comes down the stairs wearing basketball shorts, a sweatshirt, and a huge grin, as always.

"Hello, Rigby," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking toward her.

"Hello, Teddy," Eleanor replies with a smile.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," Tina tells them.

"Thanks, Tina," Eleanor says. Tina gives her a sweet smile before walking out of the room.

Eleanor looks back at Taron to find that his smile has gone, and he is narrowing his eyes at her.

"What?" Eleanor asks.

"What's wrong?"

Eleanor sighs, saying, "Come on, I'll tell you in a minute."

She walks past him and jogs up the staircase, Taron following. Eleanor shrugs off her backpack once inside his room and flops down on his bed, Taron sitting next to her with his back against the wall.

They sit in silence for a few moments, Taron picking a fuzz off her sockΒ β€” her feet were right next to him, anyway, and he just happened to notice oneΒ β€” before Eleanor delves into an explanation.

"Mom paid me to go say hi to Ray, and don't even ask me how it went because you already know."

"That bad?" Taron asks with a grimace.

Quickly sitting up, Eleanor exclaims, "He obviously didn't want me there! He told me he had to go to work! He didn't have any time for me, like usual, but I bet you the twenty bucks I got from my mom that he hasn't even left yet. We could have at least had an uncomfortable conversation until I escaped. That way I wouldn't feel shitty and hate him even more than I did before I knocked on his fucking door."

"Oh, you don't hate him, Rigby."

"I do," Eleanor says with a firm nod, shifting her body so that she is sitting next to him with her back against the wall. "I hate him. And you can't sway me otherwise."

"Alright, I won't," Taron replies, no matter how much he wants to. Eleanor nods again, looking down at her lap. Taron puts his arm around her shoulders and she gladly rests her head on his shoulder.


Conversations like thisΒ β€” the many times that Eleanor has told Taron about her hatred for her fatherΒ β€” are what linger in Eleanor's mind as she sits on the floor in the medical section of the arena.

The men in uniforms had taken their supplies, killed those who resisted or were simply in the way, and left. The injured had been assisted by the healthy. The dead had been lined up outside, covered with sheets and blankets until they are buried.

Everything had been taken care of, and Eleanor is still alone.

She has already been tended to; the bullet missed anything vital and came out through her shoulder blade. Though she was unconscious for most of the time that a kind man patched up her wounds, Eleanor felt the extent of the pain when she wokeΒ β€” the men took most of the painkillers, leaving the rest for those that reallyΒ needed it, and certainly not allowing enough for her.

But it doesn't hurt as much when she stays still, and now she sits on the floor with a curtain behind her, bandages covering her gunshot wounds and her arm in a sling.

All this, and no one has come.Β 

She has already begged to leave, to look for her family and the boys, but she had been forced to the floor and told to rest. She is almost thankfulΒ β€” she rather not move.

Her mouth in a straight line, her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes dull, Eleanor continues staring off in the distance, replaying the same moment over and over in her head: seeing the apologetic expression on her dad's face after he got shot, as if he was telling her sorry.

She should have forced herself off the ground and gone to him, but she didn't, and now she is stuck in this metal chair surrounded by curtains and other injured people, unable to go find him and tell him she's sorry, too.

She knows he is dead. She saw the light leave his eyes. She isn't holding onto false hope by wanting to go apologize to him; she just thinks that maybe if she says it to him, his soulΒ β€” wherever it may have goneΒ β€” will hear her.

She knows he is dead.

What if she's all alone? What if that's why no one else has come for her?

The thought makes her nauseous, but maybe it was just the pain.

Eleanor looks down at her lap. She doesn't know what to do.

"I'm fine! Let me go, I said I'm fine!"

Eleanor lifts her head up, her eyes moving toward the source of the commotion. A boy with shaggy brown hair is being carried by two men to the spot on the floor next to her.

Robin.

Eleanor sits up straighter, watching as he attempts to fight them, saying, "Please, my friend's really hurt and I need to be with himΒ β€” "

"Robin!" Eleanor finally says. He meets her eye, obviously surprised.

"Scully?" he says, only looking away from her when the men set him on the floor. He has been shot in the thigh. "Shit, are you okay? We thought you.... We thought you were...."

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's not me they should be worrying about," Robin declares, glaring at the men.

"Who's hurt?"

Robin sighs, his eyes filling with tears as he says, "It's Zuko." Eleanor's heart drops. "It's bad, Scully. He's been asking for you but we had no idea where you wereΒ β€” "

"Where is he?" Eleanor asks as she stands up, swaying only slightly and wincing at the pain.

"Go down that way, take a left, and you'll find him," Robin says, wiping his eyes before pointing. "I would be there right now but these douchebags spotted the blood on my leg and took me out." Eleanor hesitates. "It's okay! Go, go. He needs you."

Eleanor nods, saying, "Thank you, Robin," before she quickly walks away, pushing past the lady who attempts to get her back on the ground. A trace of a smile lingers on his face before he starts telling off the man gathering the proper tools to fix his leg.

Eleanor follows his directions, her eyes searching for familiar faces.

And finally, she sees one. Bender. He's standing outside a curtain, his arms crossed and his head hung low. Eleanor's stomach churns, wondering if she's too late.

"Bender," she says in a shaky voice, walking to him. He looks up, obviously trying his best not to cry.

"You made it," he declares with a biting tone. "Of course. He'll be thrilled."

Eleanor doesn't have the motivation to tell him off. Instead, she pulls back the curtain and steps inside, immediately greeted by two pairs of eyes.

"Scully," Atticus sighs in relief, both him and Indiana standing up upon her arrival. "We didn't know if youΒ β€” "

"I'm glad you're okay, too," Eleanor says, trying to be as sincere as possible while her eyes continuously flicker to Zuko, who is laying on the floor with a bunched up jacket serving as a pillow. A monstrous blood stain covers most of his shirt, and Eleanor can see the outline of a large bandage on his side. His eyes are closed and a thin layer of sweat coats his forehead.

Noticing her gaze, Atticus says, "He's been in a lot of pain, but he's been asking for you."

"Why haven't they given him anything? He obviously needs it!"

"They don't want to waste it," Indiana says in a hushed voice. Eleanor looks at him with wide eyes.

"So he's... he's not gonna make it?" Eleanor asks, wincing at the break in her voice.

Atticus looks at Indiana before shaking his head.

"We've all said goodbye already," Indiana declares, a tear immediately falling down his cheek.

"We'll give you some time alone," Atticus adds.

Eleanor faintly nods, her eyes trained on Zuko as Atticus pats her shoulder before the two of them walk out of the makeshift room.

For a moment, Eleanor is tremendously scared to say anything, to get closer. But she does, sitting on her calves next to him and looking at his peaceful expression.

She timidly holds his hand in hers and whispers, "I'm here, Zuko," unwilling to wake him but desperate for him to know that she came.

Zuko stirs slightly, his eyebrows furrowing from the pain before he finally opens his eyes, looks at her, and relaxes.

"Sally," he says in a hoarse voice, giving her a weak smile.

"Hey," Eleanor replies.

"I've been waiting for you."

Eleanor leans forward and holds his hand a bit tighter. He gives hers a squeeze.

Zuko looks at her for a few moments before noticing the bandage on her chest and the sling.

"You're hurt," he says, concern apparent in his voice.

"It's not that bad," Eleanor assures him.

"Did you find your family?"

Eleanor looks down for a moment before saying, "I found my dad."

"Good, good," Zuko says.Β 

She doesn't have the heart to tell him what happened, not after seeing the peaceful expression on his face.

"Are you in any pain?" Eleanor asks him.

"A bit, but it's alright."

"They could have at least given you a bed."

"They're using them as stretchers," Zuko says with a faint smile. "But I'm not complaining. I'll be dead soon, anyway."

"Don't say that."

Zuko merely gives her a sympathetic expression.

"Are you, are you uncomfortable?" Eleanor asks him, her voice wavering.

"It doesn't matter, Scully."

"Yes, it does," Eleanor replies, letting go of his hand and moving forward to gently lift his shoulders.Β 

He winces from the pain, which Eleanor quickly apologizes for, but is ultimately relieved when he rests his upper back on her thighs and his head in the crook of her elbow.

"Is that better?" Eleanor asks him, managing to use the hand in her sling to hold one of his comfortably close to her.

Zuko gives her a soft smile as he says, "You care too much, Scully."

"I really don't, actually."

"You care too much, but you try to hide it," Zuko continues. Eleanor narrows her eyes at him. "I can read you like a book."

The corner of Eleanor's mouth twitches upward as she looks at her fingers, which have begun to gently comb through his hair. The sight reminds her of last night, making her stomach churn once again.

"Why didn't you leave?" Eleanor asks him. "Why didn't you get out when you could?"

"You know I couldn't have left you behind."

"And I hate you for it."

"Please don't," Zuko says with an airy chuckle. "I'll come and haunt you if you do."

Eleanor smiles at him, finally meeting his eye.

"You should find your guy, the one you told me about last night," he tells her.

"What are you β€” "

"No, hear me out. You said you weren't sure if he is dead, and I think you should try to find him." Eleanor continues looking at him. "I told you the guy I love was dead, but the truth is I don't know. I don't know for sure. I didn't see it happen, I just assumed. And I kept running. And I regret not finding him, not knowing. I don't want that to happen to you."

Eleanor just nods. She doesn't want to think about how hard it would be to find him if she actually decided to try.

They look at each other in silence for a few moments until Zuko coughs, curling forward slightly and wincing from the pain. Eleanor starts to stand but he waves it off, tightly holding her hand. She looks at him, tremendously worried, until he lays back down and briefly closes his eyes.

He opens them just barely enough to look at her.

"Oh shit," he says in an amused, hoarse whisper. "I'm kind of scared, Scully."

"It's alright," Eleanor tells him, brushing her thumb over his cheek. "It's alright. It's gonna be okay."

He continues looking up at her with his bright blue eyes.

"Please don't close your eyes," he tells her. "I've got nowhere to look without them."

Eleanor tightly presses her lips together once she feels the familiar stinging in the back of her throat.

"I don't want you to go," Eleanor chokes out.

"I get to see my family, Scully," he tells her with a faint smile. "And I'll meet you there. But only after a few decades, yeah? After old age."

"Okay," Eleanor says with a nod.

"Hey, Scully," Zuko says, his voice just more than a whisper. "My name's Thomas, by the way."

"Thomas," Eleanor says with a smile.Β 

A content sigh escapes Zuko's lips β€” a sound that will haunt Eleanor to the end of her says, a rattling breath that distinctly resembles a soul leaving its body.

The smile gone from her face, Eleanor hopelessly says, "Mine's Eleanor."

The light has left his eyes. Eleanor suddenly realizes that the shallow breaths he had been taking had ceased, and that she is squeezing his hand but he isn't squeezing hers back.

"Thomas?" she starts, her voice weak. "My, my name's Eleanor."

She sits in silence for a few moments, unable to comprehend the fact that he has just died in her arms. The once vibrant, handsome boy was now laying limp against her, destined for a physical existence in the ground instead of with her.

And just like that, all of the men she loves have gone.

Eleanor lets go of his hand, placing it carefully on his chest. She gently closes his eyes, lifts his shoulders up, and sets him on the floor. She looks at him for a moment longer, kisses his forehead, and forces herself to leave the room before she completely loses it.

The other three look at her.

"He's gone," she tells them, her eyes brimmed with tears.

Indiana bursts into tears, Atticus puts his hands on his head and looks away, and Bender glares at her with hatred in his eyes, appearing as though he wants to strangle her.

"You're really crying right now? Are you kidding me?" he spits out.

"Bender," Atticus warns in a weak voice.

"You knew nothing about him, and you have the audacity to cry?" Bender continues, stepping toward her.

"And you did?" Eleanor asks him.

"I was there for him when he was alone! I was the only one!"

"Well, that's brilliant! I was there when he fucking died in my arms!"

Bender pauses for only a moment before he

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