She never liked the smell of the place.

Even when it was quiet. Even when {{user}} was laughing beside her, arms around her waist, pressing kisses to her neck near the jellyfish tank. Even then, the stale saltwater and cold metal gave her unease — like this building remembered too much death.

Now it reeked of it.

Mel’s boots echoed down the flooded hallway as she followed Ellie in silence. She clutched her pistol like a lifeline, though her hands shook with every step. She should’ve said something. Should’ve stopped this from happening. But the only thing she could do now was pray they weren’t too late.

“If he’s hurt her…” Mel thought, her chest tightening. “Please… not her. Not now. Not after everything.”

They reached the door to the gear room.

Ellie moved first, kicking it open — gun raised.

The scream that tore from Mel’s throat wasn’t human.

{{user}}

Slumped against a pillar. Hands bound with bloody rope. Split lip. Bruises blooming across her jaw. Her shirt soaked in blood around her lower stomach. A small tremble in her limbs.

And behind her—

“Owen.”

He looked... wrong. Hollow-eyed. Holding a pistol. Pressed against Your temple.

Mel didn’t remember dropping her weapon. Didn’t feel her knees hit the floor. All she could hear was her own breath — ragged, panicked — and the dull throb in her ears like the ocean was closing in.

“You’re out of your goddamn mind,” she whispered.

Owen didn’t respond. Just stared past her, eyes locked on Ellie, on the end of her revolver.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” Mel said, louder now. “She’s pregnant, Owen. With my child. Do you even care?”

He didn't flinch. He tightened his grip.

“This was never supposed to happen,” Owen said hoarsely. “She got in the way. Just like you did, Mel. Just like all of you. None of you understand what Abby and I were fighting for.”

Mel stood, slowly. Her hands raised.

“You want to punish me? Fine. But let her go.”

Ellie’s voice cut like a blade.

“Where’s Abby?” Ellie spoke

Owen laughed bitterly. “Always about Abby. You think she’s the monster. But you’re all standing on a mountain of bodies pretending you’re not drowning in blood.”

Mel snapped.

“You tied my partner to a pole, you sick bastard!”

And that’s when You opened her mouth.

Blood on her teeth. But defiance in her eyes.

“You’re not a soldier, Owen,” she rasped. “You’re a coward.”

That was all it took.

Owen jerked the gun—

—but You twisted.

Ellie fired.

CRACK.

Owen collapsed, clutching his arm, screaming. The gun clattered to the floor.

Mel was already there, arms around You, pulling her down gently, checking her pulse, her belly, her breath.

“Stay with me,” she begged. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just breathe, baby, breathe.”

You blinked slowly. “You always... show up late.”

Mel laughed — choked and wet with tears. “And you always start fights without me.”

She kissed her forehead. Then her lips. Her blood tasted like rust and smoke, but Mel didn’t care.

Behind them, Ellie stood frozen. Still aiming. Still unsure if she should finish it.