THIRTY ; FROM THE ASHES

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     BODY-SHAKING SOBS consume Eleanor whole after she screams with an intensity brought forth by every atom of her being.

Tears stream down her cheeks as she wails, gasps for air that simply isn't there, and wails again. Everything burns — her throat, her eyes, her chest, her gunshot wounds. 

Is crying supposed to feel like this?

Eleanor always thought it would be relieving, but the raw pain inside of her is simply too much to handle.

In the moment, Eleanor feels as though she could cry for the rest of her days. She can't imagine a life after, anyway — a life without the pain clawing at her heart. She can't imagine ever being able to bear the deaths of Ray and Zuko.

No — Thomas. His name was Thomas.

A pair of arms wrap around her torso and tries to lift her to her feet. However, she is much too weak, and despite being relatively light her company quickly gives up and instead just hugs her, resting their cheek against her good shoulder.

Eleanor is too distressed to find out who it is, but she doesn't need to; a familiar voice says through their own tears, "It's okay, Elle. It's okay."

Robbie.

He had been frantically searching through the dead bodies for his sister when he heard her scream. He had already found Ray; Mary Ann was reduced to a mess as soon as she saw him, leaving Tim to comfort her. They had all made it out, and Robbie was deadset on finding Eleanor, no matter how much Mary Ann begged him to stop — it was driving him insane.

And so the two siblings cry on the ground, Robbie hugging her torso and Eleanor clutching his arm. Tim helps Mary Ann over, who drops down next to them and wraps her arms around her children.

☁

The constant murmur in the camp was one of the first things Eleanor noticed when she came to stay. Even at night, when everyone was asleep, and outside where the world was supposed to be desolate, there seemed to be some sort of presence surrounding the camp. The survivors never heard complete silence, but after a while, they all got used to it.

But the day troubled Ray, who was trying so hard to be good to his family; handsome Thomas, who just wanted to love someone with his whole heart again; and the others who had been killed in the midst of chaos were buried in the ground was much different.

The murmurs were gone when Robbie and Tim buried Ray. Mary Ann stood nearby with a hand covering her trembling lips and Eleanor sat on the ground, a cross resting in her lap as she busied herself by carving her father's name into the wood it had been fashioned from. She got her chance to apologize to him; though they had grown closer than they had ever been over the past few months, she still felt the need to.

The odd presence had departed when Eleanor walked away from the burial site with what was left of her family, debating whether or not she should find Thomas's grave. A mixture of guilt from his death and the fear of facing the boys, especially Bender, managed to push her away. The thought made her nauseous.

All was silent in the arena as Eleanor sat in between Robbie and Mary Ann, the lot of them in shock. Their eyes were swollen from crying.

The silence continues well into the night. Most have fallen asleep, including Mary Ann and Tim, but Eleanor is afraid to close her eyes.

"You can call me Zuko."

The memories seem to become more vivid when she does.

"Think of it this way: I could be, say, a famous artist that lives in one of those studio apartments and listens to Bon Iver and Alt-J, if you'd like."

Eleanor clasps her hands over her ears, as if that could help.

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

Eleanor sits up, squinting her eyes shut and wincing at the image of his smiling face on the back of her eyelids. She suddenly feels nauseous again.

"Whoa, you alright?"

Eleanor drops her hands and opens her eyes, looking at Robbie, who just sat up, too. She nods. She has yet to tell them about Thomas, and she isn't sure when she will.

"Nightmare?" Robbie asks.

"I wish it was," Eleanor replies.

Robbie looks at her for a few moments before saying, "Dad loved you, even if he couldn't show it." Eleanor closes her eyes and nods. "When we were waiting for you and Taron to come back, he told me his biggest regret was making you hate him so much."

Holding her hand to her forehead, Eleanor shakes her head slightly to tell him to stop talking. Bringing them up wasn't helping.

"Elle, I know it sucks, but we're gonna have to talk about it at some point — " Robbie starts through watery eyes.

"I think I'm going to throw up," Eleanor replies, quickly scrambling to her feet and making a beeline toward the bathroom, which they were thankfully close to.

"Eleanor!" Robbie loudly whispers, not wanting to wake the others but unsure if he should go after her.

The urge gone, Eleanor stops at the sinks, bending over and splashing water on her face. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath.

"I'll be okay," she whispers to herself. "I loved them, and now they are gone, and I'll be okay."

☁

The next week passes slowly.

Those who aren't injured have begun to leave, realizing that without enough food, the camp is bound to go to shit. Rumors have spread that the camps in New York City have already bounced back from the loss, and with not much else to look forward to, a hopeful journey was what many needed.

The injured and their families have been advised to stay until they are sure they no longer need medical help. Eleanor can tell that Robbie and Tim are antsy to leave, but she doesn't know how they could; Ray is here, after all, and Thomas. She doesn't want to leave.

And she knows that Atticus, Bender, Indiana, and Robin haven't, either — not only because Robin is injured and they wouldn't abandon him, but because on Sunday morning, boxes of cereal and a mound of canned food appeared in the supply corner. Even with the loss of their friend, they have stayed to help everyone else.

"How are you feeling, Eleanor?"

She looks at the blonde woman tending to her gunshot wounds and says, "Fine, I guess."

Seated in an uncomfortable metal chair, Eleanor glances at the uncovered wound before immediately grimacing and looking away. She had gotten used to the pain and it was thankfully healing, but it still looked awful.

"You guess?" the woman asks.

"Yeah," Eleanor says distractedly, watching as she replaces the bandage on her chest before looking away again. "I mean, lately everything makes me nauseous, but I think that's normal what with everything going on."

"Have you been drinking water?"

"My mom's been making sure," she replies with a small smile.

"Have you noticed a fever? Stomach cramps?"

"No," she says, pulling her bra strap and shirt sleeve back onto her shoulder as the woman takes off her gloves.

Helping Eleanor back in the sling, she asks, "Have you noticed any changes in your breasts?"

"Well, they have been a bit sore, but I don't know what that has to do with — "

"Have you missed a period?"

Realization suddenly hits her and Eleanor immediately says, "I'm not pregnant, if that's what you think."

"Are you a virgin?"

Deflating slightly, Eleanor says, "No."

"Have you missed a period, Eleanor?"

"Alright, yeah, it's a bit late, but what do you know? You're not a doctor — "

"I was a nurse, actually. Think that's close enough."

Eleanor looks at her with worried eyes, taking a moment to exhale.

"I don't think we have any pregnancy tests, but we could do a blood test — "

"I'm not pregnant!" Eleanor exclaims, gripping the arms of the chair.

"It'll be alright — "

"No, you don't understand. I can't be. I'm only sixteen. I can't have a... a thing live inside me.... It freaks me out! It fucking terrifies me!" Eleanor shouts. The woman attempts to calm her down, but she ignores her. "I can't be pregnant. I can't. He's gone — he's fucking dead — and I can't do it on my own, I can't — "

She gets cut off by her own sobs, curling into herself as the woman wraps a comforting arm around her back.

☁

There is a profound beauty in the clouds today.

Eleanor has been looking at them for hours, trying to process the fact that she is pregnant with Thomas's child. A handsome, kind, dead boy's child.

It's not fair, she told herself at first, ultimately sounding like a broken record. None of it is fair.

How were we so stupid? she went on to ask herself, scolding their past selves for forgetting to use a condom and, of course, for allowing themselves to go so far in the first place.

How is it going to survive? she questioned, grimacing at the use of 'it.' She is too scared to get an abortion, and even more scared by the thought of raising a child in a post-apocalyptic world. What if nothing changes? What if things will be just as dangerous in nine months as they are now?

I could give it to a family who lost their child. It seemed like the best choice. She is only sixteen years old; if everything does go back to normal, she has things to do. She has plans. She can't raise a child on her own.

What would Taron think?

The thought of him made her blood run cold. She had planned to wait for him, but he had took too long — she still didn't know why. She missed him, but she needed to get over him. She began to fall for someone else. She had sex with someone else. Someone else tried to save her, and died in her arms. Someone else's child was now in her stomach.

Eleanor never wanted kids, and constantly brought it up to Taron whenever he aww'd over a baby at a grocery store or a toddler at a park. Taron only laughed, saying he couldn't wait to grow up and become a father — keyword being grow up — and that he expected Eleanor would change her mind. She always slugged him in the arm.

What would he think of her now? He had always been worried about her reputation and what could become of her, but at the same time, he was aware of her brilliant potential. And now she was going to be a teenage mom, destined to a life of diapers and debt. But maybe it wouldn't be just like the movies.

Now is the time that she needs him most. Her mother is a wreck, Robbie is nagging for her to open up, she's afraid to speak to her friends, and both Ray and the father of her child are dead.

But she is on her own. She has to figure things out for herself.

Eleanor sits up, slowly looking around the patch of dead grass beyond the arena's parking lot that she had escaped to. She can't hide away from everyone forever. She can't keep this a secret.

She sighs, pushing herself onto her feet and trudging across the asphalt. She considers the many ways she could tell her family — she could lead with how great of a person she has been in the past, but that wouldn't be entirely truthful. She could bring up how much her shoulder hurt to make them feel bad for her.

But none of her considerations mattered. As soon as her eyes landed on Mary Ann, who was knitting, the various scripts she had thought of were wiped clean from her mind.

"Hi, sweetheart," Mary Ann says in an exhausted, sympathetic voice when Eleanor sits beside her.

"Hi," Eleanor mumbles. 

She sits in silence for a while, watching her mother's needles as they weaved through the blue yarn. She wonders where she managed to find it.

"Mom," Eleanor says, her voice breaking and eyebrows furrowing as she turns to completely face the tired woman. Mary Ann looks at her with obvious concern. "I'm pregnant."

Mary Ann doesn't have any time to respond, for Robbie — who had just walked up to them with Tim — nearly shouts, "What?"

Eleanor winces, closing her eyes in order to shield her feelings from the looks of utter shock on all three of their faces. Whether they were mixed with disappointment, she didn't want to know.

"You're pregnant?" Robbie repeats. She opens to find an accusing stare on his face — a sharp contrast from the desperate pleading he had expressed when attempting to talk to his sister about the death of Ray. "How could you even think about... about doing that with someone, what with everything going on?"

"Well, it's not like I have a habit of making good decisions when it comes to cute guys," Eleanor replies. The look on Robbie's face breaks her heart more than anything else — that of utter disappointment, and a hit of betrayal. Maybe he didn't know about her reputation, after all.

Mary Ann and Tim certainly didn't. Tim looks extremely uncomfortable, and Mary Ann appears as though she is about to cry.

Eleanor wants nothing more than to run away, to escape all over again. But she can't. She needs to get this over with.

"Who's the father?" Robbie questions.

"It doesn't matter."

"Eleanor, who's the fucking father?"

"Zuko! It's Zuko!"

Robbie boils with anger.

"I told you not to hang around them," he says.

"It's not like it was completely his fault!"

"What, so you're saying that little baby just popped up in your stomach like an ad or something?" Robbie questions.

"Shut up, Robbie," Eleanor replies, standing up. Mary Ann follows, looking for a way to diffuse the tension.

"Man, I miss Taron," Robbie says as he shakes his head out of disbelief.

Taken aback, Eleanor stares at him with glossy eyes.

"Fuck you."

"Hey, all I'm saying is that he would've put on a damn condom," Robbie continues.

"Back off, Rob," Tim says.

Shaking his head again, Robbie says, "I'll fucking kill that Zuko kid. Where is he?"

"Six feet under the ground!" Eleanor tells him, tears brimming her waterlines. "He's already dead, Robbie! He was shot trying to save me and died in my fucking arms!"

Complete silence falls over the four of them. Eleanor's heart pounds in her chest as she tries her best not to cry. Robbie's eyes gradually soften as he stares at her. Mary Ann covers her mouth out of shock. Tim hangs his head with a silent sigh.

A tear falling down her cheek, Eleanor relaxes her shoulders, saying, "And his name was Thomas."

☁

Eleanor lays on her good side, her head resting on her mother's lap and her swollen eyes gazing at nothing. Mary Ann softly combs her fingers through her daughter's hair, gathering it away from her face. Robbie sits next to the both of them, his arms draped around his bent knees and his eyes unfocused.

They didn't know what to say, but they understood. The shock of it had thrown them into silence. But Robbie apologized, and the two of them tried their best to comfort Eleanor, who was almost inconsolable.

"E-Eleanor," a voice says. She, Mary Ann, and Robbie all look up at a young man with dirty blond hair and scruff along his jawline.

Bender.

Eleanor sits up, blinking in order to re-focus her eyes.

"Nice to see you again," Robbie tells the older punk in a bland voice. Bender jumps, having failed to notice his old friend.

Distracted from the reason why he came, Bender says, "You two... know each other?"

"She's my little sister," Robbie declares.

The look on Bender's face makes Eleanor wonder how tough Robbie really was around them — even compared to Bender. Bender appears as though he would have never even talked to Eleanor if he knew she was related to his former "colleague."

"Uh," Bender stutters, blinking before returning his oddly nervous gaze to Eleanor. "Can we talk?"

Eleanor nods without question, standing from her place on the floor and giving the other two a small, grateful smile. They merely watch as she walks away with Bender.

The two of them walk in silence, Bender leading her outside. As soon as he stepped out of the doors, Eleanor knew exactly where he was taking her: Thomas's grave.

She feels sick when her feet stop in front of the recently upturned earth, but the feeling ultimately passes. Nonetheless, she feels as though she can't bear to look at his grave — that she'll collapse on the spot if she lifts her eyes to the wooden cross. But she does anyway.

Thomas "Zuko" Wellner
August 1988 - July 2006

It was a lot of information to take in. The others new his name — his full name — and the month in which he was born. It made her feel sick.

"I didn't know his last name was Wellner," Eleanor declares.

"You didn't know a lot of things," Bender replies bluntly, the nervous state that Robbie inflicted upon him long gone.

Looking at him, Eleanor asks, "Why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you," he says with a sigh. "I'm jealous of you."

"Jealous? Why in the world would you be — "

"Because I loved him."

Eleanor tries to keep her jaw from dropping. Bender is gay? Man, these guys are really good at breaking stereotypes.

"Did, did you ever tell him?" she questions, attempting to keep the surprise out of her tone.

"No. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway. He only saw you," Bender tells her, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"I'm sorry — "

"You don't have to be."

"I do. He died because of me. You said it yourself."

"I was just angry," Bender says with a shrug. "I didn't mean it."

"Yeah, I've been trying to convince myself that no matter what, he would have found a reason to go out there and try to save someone."

Bender looks at her for a moment before saying, "You don't really believe that, do you? He was brave, but he was smart, too. He would have only gone after one of us, and the rest of us were staying put." Eleanor's heart sinks. "You were the only reason he would have risked his life."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, it's not really working."

"I'm not," he replies. "It sucks ass. We just have to accept it for what it is. He liked you a lot, Eleanor. That's all you gotta know."

Eleanor nods. And for a long while, the two of them stare at the wooden cross, content the way they are.

Her voice soft, Eleanor finally says, "I'm pregnant."

"And it's his?" Bender asks without looking at her.

"Yes."

Bender turns his head, feeling a bit more than sympathy for her.

"We'll be with you every step of the way," he tells her, referring to Atticus, Robin, Indiana, and himself.

Eleanor nods again. He surprises her by stepping closer and wrapping an arm carefully around her shoulders.

And in that moment, she knew she wasn't alone at all: she had Mary Ann, and Robbie, and Tim, and the boys. She had Ray and Thomas, too.

Maybe having Thomas's child wouldn't be so bad. From the ashes rose life, and she would be bringing apart of him into the world.

She would never be alone