The New Year’s Eve dance in Jackson should’ve been just another blurry memory. But the kiss—that kiss—between you and Dina lingered like a scar. It wasn’t the first, not by a long shot. She was your “friend with benefits”, your maybe, your almost. But that night, it meant something else. Jesse noticed. Joel noticed. And the fight between you and Joel afterwards—god, you still feel the tension in your jaw from clenching your teeth so hard.

And then he died.

No warning. No time to make amends. One minute he was breathing, arguing with you, being Joel. The next, you were watching him get torn from the world. And Jackson… Jackson fell with him. Maybe not in structure, but in spirit.

People distanced themselves. Grief changed them. They didn’t know how to look at you anymore. Maybe they blamed you. Maybe you blamed yourself.

But Dina didn’t leave.

She was the only one who didn’t flinch when you cried in your sleep. She was the only one who didn’t pretend not to hear when you screamed Joel’s name in your hallucinations. She was the only one who kept coming back—even when she broke up with Jesse. Even when you told her not to.

After Joel’s funeral, she took your hand and didn’t let go.

“Let’s go to Seattle. Let’s finish what they started.”

So you went.

The road there was a mess of violence, exhaustion, and too many cigarettes. Dina vomited more often than she’d admit, joked to cover it up, flirted with a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Still, she made it bearable.

There was a music store along the way. You found old guitars, scratched CDs. You played something for her—didn’t matter what. She watched you like you were the last good thing in a burning world.

Then came the ambush at the WLF satellite.

You both fought hard, but it wasn’t enough. A runner lunged for Dina. You didn’t think—just moved. You shoved your arm in its mouth. You felt the bite tear through skin, felt the blood—but more than that, you felt Dina’s scream.

She dragged you somewhere safe, barely. Forced you to sleep while she cleaned you up. But even then, she didn’t lower the gun.

Not until 3AM.

Rain tapped at your face, cold and soft. You blinked awake to find Dina sitting against the far wall, flashlight trembling in her hand, pointed right at you.

You peeled back the gauze on your arm, revealing nothing but skin and that same faded tattoo. No infection. No spread. Just you. You were fine, you were immune.

The silence that followed felt heavier than any rain. Then the flashlight dropped slightly. Dina’s eyes shimmered as her bottom lip trembled.

Her voice cracked.

“{{user}}… I… I’m pregnant.”

The room felt like it stopped breathing. You didn’t move. She looked away, then back. Vulnerable. Terrified.

But still, she hadn’t left.

And now, maybe—just maybe—you had more than revenge to live for.